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| Chapter 54. The Message | |
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aeve awakened disoriented, the phantom of a dream fading as she blinked into the pre-dawn darkness of her room. Instinctively she felt the cool sheets beside her, certain that Mog lay there, that she could hear his voice calling for her across time and distance. Unsettled by a sense of wrongness, she rose and swung her long legs over the side of the bed. There were voices outside her shuttered window and the mealy odor of cooking buckwheat cakes flowed down the narrow hallway from the kitchen. Slipping a loose gown over her shift, she pushed past the bedroom door and padded silently toward the kitchen in her heavy woolen stockings. The air within the stone cottage was barely above freezing, indicating the hearth fire had gone out during the night. As she neared the parlor she saw Armand and Brigit were busy trying to rekindle the flames. Near the front door she could hear Anluan’s booming voice thanking Glomir for a delivery. “Oh, there you are!” he chuckled as Maeve arrived at the entrance. He pressed a battered leather messenger satchel into her hands, “It arrived last night at Yak’s Bend. One of the Ironfasts brought it here.” “Thank you,” she replied evenly, as ever concealing her true feelings from those around her. She took the frigid satchel and withdrew to her room despite sensing Anluan’s curiosity as he followed her hopefully for a few steps. Once the bedroom door was closed, she lit the lamp on her bedside table and unbuckled the clasp on the bag. Immediately she saw the familiar red wax emblazoned with the open palm symbol of Master Bei’s guild. He must have paid someone to deliver it via portal. She tipped out the papers, seeing that, as promised, he had furnished her with the magical instructions for preparing the foundations of the guild hall. Before the Celestial Sigil could be placed, she had to acquire the right types of stone and ensure they were aligned just so to the sun and moon. She was grateful she had befriended the dwarves, for while she could perform the measurements and prepare the ritual, she was at a loss when it came to something as simple as stone. Her eyes fell immediately upon a small, elegantly folded missive addressed specifically to her in Master Bei’s flowing script. Her heart skipped a beat and she carefully drew it open, wondering if this was his response to her request for help finding Mog. Dear Ms. Binnech, A mixture of disappointment and despair swirled within her. She needed help now, and not from a mere apprentice. She paced for a moment within the cramped confines of the tiny room, unable to shake the sense that Mog was in grave danger. Finally she resigned herself to the fact that there was little she could do in that moment and went through the motions of washing her face with freezing water and getting dressed. If all went well there would soon be a simple way to cover the distance between their two guilds. She would have a word with Master Bei in person then. Her hand rested upon the latch of her bedroom door and she closed her eyes, finding Mog in her mind’s eye, remembering him tall and svelte in the doorway of her cottage on the last day she had laid eyes upon him. “Please hold on to life, my love. I will come to you, I will find you. I swear it before Lyssa and all of the gods.” Sighing, Maeve opened her eyes and straightened her shoulders, determined to carry on. Master Bei’s delegation was less than a week away. If the weather held, if the pass was clear, they might arrive even sooner. That meant she must have the foundations ready. She must focus upon the things over which she had control. |
