Hilda smiled and grasped his arm in warm greeting. “So good to see you. I trust you had sufficient time to recuperate this morning?” she asked.
“Mostly... I’m thinking I may need a bit of medicine, perhaps a Bloody Tatania?” The wizard asked, ushering her into his quarters.
“The perfect cure! Which one of us is the healer here?” Hilda asked with a laugh as she came into the chambers. She had only been here briefly previously. It was a decent suite — nothing to compare with Lenamare’s, of course, but still nice. Perhaps the main thing was the lack of personal items. There were numerous professional instruments and quite a few boxes, but overall the suite looked rather unlived in.
Trisfelt must have noticed her looking around. “You’ll have to forgive the bare nature of my quarters. They were just procured for me upon my arrival in Freehold, so I haven’t moved in.” He paused and a look of consternation settled on his face. “And Lenamare managed to vaporize-slash-disintegrate most of my personal possessions back at his school. Some of us didn’t get a lot of room for baggage.” He gave a small grin of mild exasperation.
Hilda grimaced. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m so sorry.”
Trisfelt shook his head, implying it was no big deal. “A great inconvenience, but nothing more. We thaumaturgists are known for being rather nomadic and living off the land, so to speak. Unlike many other wizards, most of our components and tools are readily found in nature.”
He gestured for her to sit down on the couch. “I also have a small cabin — really more of a sort of tree cabin, out in the woods, not that far from Tris.” He sat down himself. “That’s where many of my most personal things are kept. It’s my hideaway, where I go for a respite now and then.”
“A tree cabin?” Hilda asked, puzzled.
Trisfelt had begun mixing Bloody Tatanias from the ingredients and pitchers on the coffee table. He chuckled. “It’s basically a hut built inside the hollow of a very large tree.”
Hilda got a slightly puzzled look on her face. “It must be a very large tree. And I thought you were a thaumaturgist, not a druid,” Hilda joked.
Trisfelt laughed. “No, not a druid. There are a few druids nearby; it is not that far from a satyr encampment. I first encountered the region a decade or so back while researching satyr beer and wine.”
Hilda sat up a bit straighter. “Now you have my attention! Did you find satisfactory refreshment?”
Trisfelt chuckled. “Indeed, some of the best beers in all of Astlan, and I suspect the best non-alvaren wine to be found. Much more grounded with very rich, earthy overtones, and far cheaper but every bit as interesting for one looking for new experiences.”
Hilda looked quite excited. “Well then, I hate to impose, but once this current” — she gestured around, indicating the entire city and region — “whatever it is, is over, you must invite me for a visit!”
Trisfelt smiled brightly. “I would love to do that. It is quite gorgeous out there. Rustic, I fear, but very relaxing.”
“I grew up in a small village in deep woods at the base of the mountains; it was a bit of a backwater.” Hilda smiled. “So rustic is something I’m quite familiar with.” She got a wistful look in her eye as she remembered Rivenrock. She closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them and smiled, taking the glass Trisfelt offered her.
“Are you okay? You seem suddenly a bit distressed,” Trisfelt asked.
“I’m fine. Simple nostalgia for one’s youth. My village is no longer there, it’s been reclaimed by the forest, so I sometimes get a bit wistful.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did it just become too hard to make a living?” Trisfelt asked.
Hilda grimaced. “Unfortunately, a necromancer — well, it’s unpleasant and painful.”
Trisfelt was startled. “A necromancer! Oh my goddess, I’m so sorry, I should not have pried!”
Hilda waved him off. “No, no, it’s a perfectly natural question on your part. I’ve come to a small level of peace over it with time.”
“Well, let me change the topic. I have our brunch being served shortly.” He gestured to a dining table set for two. “Waffles with syrup from the region I was just telling you about, as well as ham and a potato-and-egg dish.”
“Mmm,” Hilda said. “Sounds delicious. We should talk more about the balling. Do you wish to do that before, during or after brunch?”
“My only thought would be to reserve discussion when the servants are here,” Trisfelt said.
Hilda nodded. “I agree. I assume they are general palace staff” — Trisfelt nodded — “and no telling who they might share information with.”
“Exactly.”
“I guess my big question is about this Rupert demon. Are you going to tell Lenamare?” Hilda asked.
Trisfelt shuddered. “I think not; at least, not yet. I still have trouble believing it is the same lad. I just do not see how we could have missed it. Telling Lenamare at this juncture would only serve to make him even more paranoid, and I cannot predict how he would react. Generally unpleasant, most likely with initial disbelief, possibly an insulting interrogation of Danyel and the two of us. So, until I can confirm personally, I think I would like that possibility to stay between the three of us.”
Hilda nodded. “I would agree. While I don’t know Lenamare that well, what I do know gives me pause before accusing him of allowing a third or lesser fourth-order demon to sleep under his roof undetected.”
Trisfelt chuckled darkly. “Then you know him as well as any. That is exactly my concern.”
A knock came at the door. “Valet service, My Lord,” a voice from the hall called.
“Come in, come in!” Trisfelt called as he stood and moved towards the door. He glanced back to Hilda. “I hope you brought your appetite; I can smell it already!”
“Tizzy, dear chap... you might have mentioned that this place is on the other side of the Abyss!” Boggy complained to Tizzy. “My wings are still regenerating from yesterday’s revelry!”
“What are you complaining about? I’m the one carrying the giant canned meat!” Tizzy retorted.
“It is a bit out there,” Antefalken noted.
“I’m getting more than a little tired, I have to admit. This flying business is still pretty new to me,” Reggie agreed.
Tom was fine, surprisingly; the prolonged flight was helping him keep his fidgetiness and even his indigestion in check. Sort of like a good workout. He kept thinking that his symptoms of mana overindulgence would subside at some point, but they had not yet. The massage at the spa had helped, as did today’s exercise.
“I’m good. It’s very scenic; I don’t generally venture this far out on my own,” Estrebrius put in happily.
The party had flown to the nearby boom tunnel, and Tizzy had set the coordinates and they had gone through. Tom had assumed a half hour or so of flying, but it ended up being nearly two hours, and then they ended up at another boom tunnel.
“It’s been nearly two hours since the last boom tunnel. I don’t think I’ve had to use two boom tunnels in more than two centuries,” Antefalken complained. “I know the tunnels all have maximum ranges; were you hitting the max on those two tunnels?”
Tizzy shrugged. “Probably. There’s another boom tunnel up ahead, but it’s been turned off for quite some time.”
“Turned off?” Boggy asked. “Why would anyone turn off a boom tunnel?”
“Save power?” Tizzy asked, shrugging.
“Save power?” Antefalken asked. “Who in the Abyss cares about conservation of anything?”
Tizzy just shrugged.
“So that’s the one we would have gone to if it had been on?” Tom asked.
“Nah, that’s the one we are going to try and turn on to get where we are going,” Tizzy answered. Talarius jostled in Tizzy’s hands, obviously perturbed.