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I turned and made my way to the door. I could sense Marc on his way up the stairs and something about his stride told me he had something important to discuss.

Chapter 21

I met Marc just outside the library, pretending to some surprise at finding him there. I did things like that often, pretending to be surprised when I met people, mostly to put them at ease. I had come to the conclusion early on that it only upset people when they knew I was aware of their every movement when they were near me. No one likes to feel as if they are continually being watched. It wasn’t as if I really watched people constantly, usually it was more like the background noise in a busy room. You hear the voices but you don’t know what they’re saying until you pay attention to one or another of them. My mage-sight was similar, I could focus upon an individual and see as much as I liked, up to about a mile away, but in practice I couldn’t possibly watch everyone. It would have driven me insane.

If they knew how much I could see I doubt anyone would have been comfortable living within Castle Cameron. In reality though, people’s lives are… for the most part, incredibly boring. Still I pretended to be as normal as possible, to avoid making everyone uncomfortable.

“Don’t act surprised to see me,” Marc said, as if he could read my thoughts.

I frowned, “What do you mean?”

“You always overdo your acting. Since it’s just me you don’t have to bother. I know you can see me from one end of the house to the other, so you don’t have to pretend to be surprised when I find you.”

I couldn’t fault his logic. Bastard knows me too well, I thought with a grin. “You’re too sharp for your own good. I hope you realize that?” I said.

He struck a pose of intense concentration, putting one hand on his chin and the other on his hip, “The thought had occurred to me,” he said smugly. “I try not to flaunt my gifts too much though; it might make others feel inadequate.”

I laughed. “Are you going to tell me what you found or spend all day congratulating yourself?” I asked.

He pretended to ponder my words seriously for a moment. “That’s a tough one,” he said at last, “but the real question is how do you know I found something?”

“Magic,” I answered immediately, “that and the fact you have a book tucked under your arm and you were looking for me with a certain air of urgency.”

He looked down at the book he held. “I guess you have me on that one.” He walked past me, into the library I had just left. “Here let me show you,” he said sitting down at the closest reading table. I followed him and sat down in a nearby chair. “I took a stack of promising books to my room last night, to look through before I fell asleep. I found this tucked inside one of them.” He pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper, yellow from age.

“Which book was it in?” I asked.

He held up the book he had been carrying, ‘An Illuminated Guide to the Birds of Lothion’, read the title.

“Why would you have even taken that one to search through?” I said curiously.

Marc smirked sheepishly. “Sometimes I get tired looking through so many serious tomes. This one has a lot of really lovely illustrations, all carefully hand painted. I was looking through it purely for enjoyment.” He shrugged helplessly.

I shook my head. Even though we’d been friends for nearly twenty years now I had never known he was interested in birds. Perhaps I wasn’t as observant as I thought. I opened the paper carefully, for it was brittle. Once it was unfolded I could see it was a letter, and the handwriting was familiar to me.

My Dear Friend,

I cannot say much here, for I fear this letter may never reach you. I must assume you received my last letter for I have not gotten a reply yet but that is not unusual these days. They watch my correspondences carefully, of that I am sure. Quite possibly they have stolen your replies to keep me from seeing them.

Vendraccus moves more freely now and I suspect he will attempt to unseat me soon. There are none left now that I can trust. I hate to sound morbid, but this may be my last letter. A source close to Vendraccus has given me information that I think may be of importance to you, though I do not understand its meaning. I cannot even be sure if it is the truth; my own spies are untrustworthy and may be feeding me misinformation.

I have been told that Vendraccus has been charged by his god to find something known as ‘Illeniel’s Doom’. My informant was unsure what ‘it’ might actually be, but he said that by the conversation he overheard it sounded like something living, such as a person or creature.

Whether this helps you or not, I do not know, but I assumed that the name would have some meaning to you.

Good luck. I cannot tell you how much your friendship has meant to me over the years, especially now that I find myself alone, surrounded by strangers.

V.

I had seen a letter similar to this one previously; in my father’s writing desk the first time I had explored the house. I was also sure it had been signed much the same way, with a simple initial. At the time I had been unsure who had sent the letter to him, but given the content of this one I was starting to believe it really had been Valerius, the last king of Gododdin. I had no idea how he had become friends with the man, but then my father’s life was still mostly a mystery to me.

I looked at Marc, “You know what this means?”

He shook his head negatively.

“Me either,” I admitted. “Although it really does seem that my father had some sort of on-going friendship with the king of Gododdin.”

Marc let out a deep sigh. “I had really hoped you might be able to make something of that.”

“It isn’t your fault,” I said. “So far my only sources of information about this thing have been from the gods themselves, and we know how reliable they are.”

My friend looked sharply at me as I spoke. “You’re absolutely right.”

I grinned, “I’ll need you to write that down and sign it for me. I can use it the next time you’re being stubborn.”

He shook his head again, “No, I really mean it. All the information you have about this ‘Doom’ comes from the gods, first from Celior, and now indirectly from Mal’goroth. I should be looking through the church archives, not this library.”

“I don’t think your search here is entirely a waste,” I told him. “After all this is the only known library of the Illeniel family, so it seems an obvious choice to search.”

“True,” he agreed, “and I have learned a lot of interesting tidbits while I was looking here. We’ll have to sit down for a week or two sometime. You would be surprised at some of the general information about wizardry, the gods, and even people like Dorian that can be found here.”

“Dorian?”

“Yes,” he said smugly. “Dorian is, as far as I can tell, what your ancestors called a ‘stoic’.” He folded his arms in front of him, waiting for me to ask the inevitable questions.

I waved a hand nonchalantly at him, “Oh yes, I knew that. I learned about them in Vestrius’ journal, but I would like to see what books you found the information in… I’m sure there’s a lot more I need to know.” I knew my phrasing would irritate him, but then, that’s what friends are for… right?

“Sometimes you really are a wet blanket. You know that?” he said with resignation. “You could at least pretend to be excited, just to make your friend feel better.”

I winked at him, “A friend told me recently that I ‘overdo’ my acting and I should just be honest. It seemed like good advice.”