The lead wizard had spent the last three days in bed thinking, and trying to regain his strength, before finally deciding to venture into Hartwick. The Minion litter and armed guard of winged warriors that had transported him and Celeste waited patiently just to the north. Wigg sighed. He had come because he knew in his heart he needed to see this person from his past-if indeed she still lived.
Celeste stirred, coming up on one elbow. "You still haven't told me why we're here," she said, smiling at him.
"We have come to see someone," he told her.
"Who?"
He pursed his lips. "Someone I knew a long time ago-someone Krassus referred to that day when he appeared to us in the game room. A woman I was… friendly with… just after the Sorceresses' War."
For several moments he explained to her the world of the partial adepts, just as Faegan had done for Tristan and Shailiha. He also went on to discuss how their kind had, for better or worse, been banished by the Directorate, both the women and the men. When he finished, Celeste's sapphire eyes were alight with curiosity.
"But why did you bring me with you, Father?" she asked. Sitting upright, she wrapped her hands around her raised knees and placed her chin upon them. "You know how much I love to be with you, but wouldn't you have preferred to see her alone? Especially after all these years?"
"If she still lives, I want her to meet you," he answered. "And truth be known, you and I have had precious little chance to be alone. Besides, if there is anyone in the world I would wish to share this encounter with, it is you."
Deciding to change the subject, Wigg selected another blade of grass to worry. "You care for Tristan very much, don't you?" he asked.
At her father's blunt, unexpected question, Celeste blushed. Then the rose of her cheeks faded, and her expression became more somber, perhaps even bordering on mild confusion.
"I care for all of you," she answered simply. "You know that."
Gently grasping her chin, Wigg turned her face to his. "But you care for the prince in a different way than you do for the rest of us, do you not?" he asked softly.
Celeste lowered her eyes. "I would like to," she said hesitantly.
She tilted her head slightly as if in pain, not knowing how much her next words would sear her father's heart. She was trembling, and tears came to her eyes. "Yes, I would like to care for him. But, you see, I really don't know how," she whispered, so softly he could barely hear her.
Grasping her shoulders, Wigg pulled her close. "I know," he answered.
For a long time they sat that way in the grass, simply holding each other: the father who had never known he had a daughter, and the daughter who had never learned how to love.
Finally, Celeste lifted her face. She looked across the glade, alert, head cocked. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "Tell me, Father, do you hear that?"
"Of course." He smiled. "I first heard it when we sat down. I have wizard's ears, remember?"
"What is it?"
Across the clearing, a swarm of bees anxiously tended a massive comb nested in the crook of a tree branch. Each of the bees was at least the size of a man's fist. As they swirled and danced in the air, the familiar green-and-purple striping upon their backs was highlighted by the climbing sun.
"They're Eutracian honeybees," he said, smiling again. "They're protecting their hive. They are usually not dangerous, so long as they are left alone."
"What's honey?" she asked.
Realizing anew just how many things Celeste had not experienced that the rest of the world took for granted, he leaned in conspiratorially. "Watch," he whispered. His right hand came up.
As she watched, an azure glow began to form around the comb, trapping the bees inside. They started buzzing even more furiously. Then a nearby dried branch on the grassy floor of the glade rose to penetrate one of the openings in the comb. It withdrew then, one end covered with a sticky, amber-colored substance that dripped lazily to the ground. Then the branch slowly coasted across the clearing, coming to rest patiently in the air before them.
The glow surrounding the comb slowly began to dissipate, finally vanishing altogether. The honeybees went about the business of repairing the rent in the comb.
Wigg grasped the clean end of the branch and held the sticky end out to her. "Taste it," he said with a smile.
"Really?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Is it good?"
Still holding the branch, Wigg made a mocking little bow and chuckled. "On my honor as lead wizard of the Directorate."
Celeste took the branch, and tentatively touched her tongue to the honey. Her face lit up.
"I have never tasted anything so wonderful!" she exclaimed brightly. Enjoying the moment, the lead wizard smiled.
But it was that single, innocent action that would cause Celeste's world, and the world of her father, to be changed forever.
Celeste dropped the branch and gripped her throat. Shaking violently, she convulsed into Wigg's arms, her hands reaching up to his face in a pitiful, beseeching gesture of helplessness.
The lead wizard was stunned, unsure of what to do or of what could be causing such a violent reaction. He narrowed his eyes, about to use the craft in an attempt to relieve her suffering.
But he never got the chance.
The sound of snapping branches startled him, and he looked up from the face of his struggling daughter to see the tall grasses across the glade gently, slowly part. Then a large, bulky form emerged from the woods. Wigg froze, and a shiver went down his spine. He heard a soft, menacing growl.
A large, sandy creature, walking on all fours, gracefully stepped from the edge of the clearing, not far from the swarming honeybees. It glared at Wigg with yellow eyes as he tried to quiet his stricken daughter. Lifting its head, the beast flared its nostrils, testing the air; then it leveled its deadly gaze once more at Wigg and Celeste and snarled again, this time more loudly.
It was a saber-toothed bear.
The vicious creatures had roamed Eutracia for centuries. They resembled an odd cross between a bear and a lion. Two long, upper fangs ran well down below the lower jaw. A bearlike face, snout, ears, and intense, yellow eyes made up the head. The leonine body had padded feet with long, pointed claws. The long, slim tail ended in a small ball of fur. The mottled tan-and-black hide had long been prized by Eutracian hunters-provided they lived to tell the tale. Few did.
Unlike many other creatures of these woods, many of the saber-tooths were man-eaters-an acquired, not natural, taste. Once one had devoured the meat of a human being-usually out of desperation-it rarely, if ever, returned to its previous feeding habits. Its heightened sense of smell and unusually keen eyesight were legendary. This one was clearly a male, by far the heavier but not necessarily the deadlier of the two sexes.
It seemed clear that this saber-tooth had already feasted upon humans at least once, and wished to do so again.
And then, quite unexpectedly, the saber-tooth's mate quietly, smoothly appeared at the opposite side of the glade. She padded silently to a spot just inside the circle, and crouched in the grass, her long muscles clenched. Her hungry, yellow eyes missed nothing.
Wigg held his breath, trying to remain as still as possible with the struggling Celeste in his lap. He had heard tales of unarmed woodsmen who had come upon these beasts, only to remain stock-still and have them blessedly saunter away. But now, with the female squarely at the opposite end of the clearing, Wigg knew that his luck had run out. He had heard enough about them to know that first the male would attack, grasping his victim in his jaws. Then the female would rush in from the opposite direction to deliver the deathblow-either with a powerful swipe of her claws, or by impaling the prey on her curved, white fangs. After that, their prize secure, the leisurely feasting would go on for a long time.