Loose Ends: Part 1

Author's Note: Loose Ends takes place approximately three months after the final epilogue in Mistress & Mage. It references events and outcomes from the novel, which I recommend reading first. 

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Lady Maude L’Mont relaxed on the settee in her private room of Sayledon Manor. She did not mind spending the odd week in Rockhaven, but the older she grew, the more she preferred the peace of the country. She felt quite old indeed tonight, and restless in a way she hadn’t felt for months, not since the first aura-ripped victims were discovered in Rockhaven’s streets.

The shadow elementals had been dealt with by Varrick, and the man who had summoned them had been stripped of his anima. There was no more threat at present, but the restless unease crept over her shoulders, leaving her cold despite the small fire in her grate.

Maude had too much experience to ignore a gut feeling like this. In her youth, she would have attributed it to the impeding summer storm. Not a drop had fallen, but thunder rolled, and the winds keened like something undead. She looked to the window wards. Not a glimmer. Nothing had tripped them. Still, she felt watched.

She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the window to peer out. Her rooms overlooked the back gardens of Sayldon; in the flashes of lightning, the trees whipped violently, leaves torn away. At the far end of the garden, where iron gates kept trespassers out, golden light shimmered and winked out. Had she seen it or imagined it?

Maude concentrated on the path between that spot and the house. In the next flash, a figure in a long captain’s coat and three-cornered hat was halfway to the house. In the next flash, he was gone.

Ah. She pulled the drapes closed and rang for her butler, Morrow. She’d expected this guest months earlier.

The click of the door announced Morrow.

“There is a man in Lord L’Monte’s quarters,” she said. “His clothing is in the red oak chest. Assist him, then fetch the Istalian wine, the one without a label.”

Morrow hesitated. “My Lady? I didn’t know anyone was expected. I could have prepared.”

Maude smiled at the mock grievance in his tone. He played the dignified butler well, and did his duties impeccably, but she appreciated having someone who was also skilled in more dangerous arts on hand. “Hurry. Our guest is an impatient sort. And of course, no questions.”

“Who do you take me for?” This time the aggrieved tone was real.

“Someone who is too nosy for his own good.” She returned to the settee, reclining with a sigh. She had no way to guess Uncle Cae’s mood. He was rarely angry, but one of his children—specifically, one of his children’s granddaughters—had been involved, and Maude had made mistakes.

Morrow would be discreet and professional. He’d worked for dangerous men before she hired him. He understood the value of a blank face and closed mouth.

Quiet, muffled voices came through the wall. She ought to have had Morrow bring the wine first. A little liquid calm would be welcome.

A door opened and closed. Morrow’s footsteps trod down the hall and stairs. She chafed her fingers together, telling herself it was because of the storm, not nerves. When she was younger, she’d known better than to lie to herself. It was a bad habit, caused by too much time in Rockhaven society.

A draft stirred the wisps of white hair that had escaped her braid. She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. “Hello, Uncle Cae.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Evening, Maudie darling.” He crossed between her and fire and sat in the opposite corner of the settee, as elegant and graceful as any trained dancer.

“It is terribly unfair, you know, that you never age,” she said. In the firelight, his purple hair looked almost black, spangled with goldenwood beads and golden pearls woven into small braids. He’d changed from whatever clothes he’d worn for the journey from the ship to Sayldon and looked at ease in gentlemen’s trousers and a loose shirt. No new lines marred his dark brown face, no silver in the hair. He looked no older than he had seventy years ago when he’d helped retrieve her from the colonies in Alladoon.

“Time will catch even me, no matter how long the race.” He studied her, concern creasing his face. “I’ve been gone too long. I’m sorry.”

“The seas are wide; your responsibilities are many.” It was what Uncle Emil had always said when she’d asked about Cae as a child.

“It’s been over five years. Far too long.” He glanced at the door. “You’ve replaced your butler.”

“Wilson was older than I am now. His heart gave out.” The memory struck her more sharply than expected. She’d known the old butler most of her life. Sitting up straighter, she pushed it away. “Morrow is extremely capable and a quick study.” Along with having several talents that hand nothing to do with butlering. She hadn’t needed him to hide a body, but one never knew.

“He obviously disapproves of me.” Cae smiled cheerfully. “I rather like him.”

Maude relaxed. He might not be happy with last fall’s events, but he wasn’t angry with her. “You’re here about Florian’s granddaughter.”

“Delphine. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her or her magus yet, but I am glad you sent her home safely.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Tene brought her through the blockade, with a little help from Marahu and Ahua.”

“I had to send them to Mossy Cove first to meet Tenebrith.” She ducked her head. She had never quite broken her youthful crush on Cae’s first mate. “I would have liked to see him again.”

“Arrange to meet him then. You’re not required to stay here. Go somewhere else. Go back to Istalia. You loved your time at the Scholarium.”

Maude stared at the fire. “You sound like Uncle Emil.”

“Good. He wanted you to be happy and free.”

“And you?” Their old quarrel shouldn’t mean anything after so long. She’d been young, grieving, and hurt that the man she thought of as a second father had other children and families in far flung places she’d never visited.

“Always the same. You know I could never stand to see you hurting.” He laid his arm across the back of the settee, almost touching her shoulder. “Don’t stay here in this miserable place. Go back to Istalia. I’ll take you myself, you only have to say the word.”

“Cae.” She let the name trail away. He understood human aging. “I am slowing down. Even on your ship, the trip around the horn to Istalia is long and difficult. I make mistakes. I forget things. If I had remembered that your Delphine was still here, I could have looked out for her. Things would have been different. I thought she’d gone back to Florian with her mother.”

She could have saved the young woman from losing some of her magic and nearly losing her life. She’d been angry at herself when she realized her mistake and was petty with Delphine because of it. She would make it up to both of the young couple.

Before Cae could respond, a tap at the door, followed by Morrow with the unlabeled wine, interrupted. The butler set the bottle and two wineglasses on the side table and poured.

Cae narrowed his eyes at the butler. “Do you usually do your duties armed, Mr. Morrow?”

Morrow, who had a perfect poker-face most of the time, looked even blander than usual. “That depends on the nature of the guest, Captain.”

“Cae means me no harm,” Maude said, although the butler’s preparations were touching. “And you aren’t capable of hurting him.”

“My lady! You wound me.” He offered Cae a glass.

“You must recognize when you’re out of your league.” Maude accepted her own glass. “It is the last bottle of this vintage.”

Cae inhaled the bouquet. “I brought it for Emil that last time.” His corona swirled in strands of deep blue sadness around his head, softened by blooming patches of nostalgia.

“Yes.” The elf had been days too late. Uncle Emil had passed away without him; Maude didn’t think he’d ever forgiven himself for it. She understood a little, now, how deep some failures cut. “That will be all for now, Morrow.”

Morrow left, his steps slower than usual, giving her an extra glance back before he closed the door.

“Does he know Rockhaven well?” Cae asked.

“He’s well acquainted with the less savory parts of the city. I’ve found his knowledge quite useful.” She sipped the wine, considering how much to tell him. Nothing about Morrow would put Cae off. If anything, he’d like her butler even more once he knew about this checkered past. “Morrow was slated to hang. I intervened. He was grateful for a second chance.”

“Very gracious of you.” A smile touched his lips but went no further. There would be no lighthearted conversation tonight. He set the wine down with a sigh. “If the distance to Istalia is too much, I could take you to Elethen. You’ve a long correspondence with the Red Baroness, and Florian would welcome you.”

I was tempting. Alora, Elethen’s Red Baroness, was an interesting woman. She’d sent Maude her lady’s maid, Gertrude, a move which saved the woman’s life. They’d traded letters over the years, but she’d never met the woman who ruled Elethen’s black market and assassins.

Maude refused to be the pitiable old relative, tolerated for Cae’s sake. Nor was she willing to give up the influence she wielded in Rockhaven. She still had work to do here. “I won’t intrude on your family there.”

“It’s not an intrusion. No more than Delphine being part of your little scheme here was an intrusion. They would welcome you very happily on her behalf.”

“This is my home. Sayledon is my home. Uncle Emil and Kasim are buried here. Were I younger, and sure I could return, if that damned blockade was finally broken, if King Albin would, for once be content with what he has, instead of grasping at every stray bit of land he takes a mind to—” She bit off the words as her heart galloped. How she hated Torlund’s king. “If I could see Torlund lose, I should be happy.”

“You stay so you can see Albin fail?” Cae ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “Not that I disapprove, but is it worthy of your last decade or two?”

“It could be my last year or two.” She wasn’t trying to hurt him, although the words did. “I want to feel that I’ve left something that will last here, even if you and I are the only ones who know about it.”

“I want to be here, at the end.” He drank the rest of the wine in one long gulp and rose. “I will be back as frequently as I can—more if Torlund finally leaves Maythem alone, but I don’t want to be too late again. Not for you.”

You could stay. But he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. He had his brothers, some of whom she’d met over the decades. Together they had the Tethered Tree Fleet, he had Florian in Elethen, and other children, fully elven children, somewhere else he refused to even name. He balanced his torn affections and obligations precariously; it meant he never stayed.

Sitting, looking up at him, she felt like the child she’d been the first time she’d seen him. She’d been too terrified to speak. Her family had all died of the green plague, and although she had closer relatives, it had been her father’s second cousin, Uncle Emil, who came and rescued her from the hot, oppressive loneliness of Alladoon and its memories of brutality and self-righteous cruelty. He and Emil had made her feel safe and precious. She wished she could grasp that feeling again, when the whole world felt so out of sorts, and neither her money nor her power could do anything to fix it.

She’d felt that way as her mother and father lay dying. Her siblings, some older, some younger, had gone before. Mother held on the longest, but in the end, the fever took her too. Hundreds of humans had died from it. She felt helpless, and she hated it.

“Why come back for me? You have so many people in your life who aren’t fading.” She’d done deathwatches for her parents, for Emil, and for her husband, Kasim. She didn’t wish the slow, grinding heartache of it on anyone.

He held out his hand to her and helped her stand. She didn’t even come to his chin. No wonder his great-granddaughter was so tall.

“Little Maudie.” He laid his hands on her shoulders, holding her gaze. “I never love my flowers less, even though you are a particularly thorny rose.”

She dropped her chin, looking down. Her memory was as worn as an old boot, full of holes, but that phrasing struck home. They were his ephemeral flowers, blooming and fading in a season, but no less loved for it.

He cradled her face and kissed her forehead as he had when she was a child. “Short years make you more dear to me, not less. If you and Kasim had children, I would have guarded them just as zealously as I guard Florentina. So, I will be here for you at the end.”

“And will you visit after?” He came to her uncle’s grave. She would pay her respects and there would be a bottle of wine or fine brandy, flowers enchanted to hold their bloom for a year, and other mementos. She left the flowers and gathered the other things in the red oak trunk.

“Of course. For as long as I can sail, I will come.”

Maude laid her head against his chest. When everyone who had ever known her was gone, when her name was just a note in books of gentry and lords, he would still lay flowers and fine wine on her grave, although she had no idea who would collect his offerings. Perhaps no one. Sayledon would go to someone else, some other family, and they would wonder at the graves and gifts but never receive an explanation.

"For as long as I can sail, I will come."

“Is that why you came now? To see if I am near death?” She didn’t think so, or he would have been more rushed. When he’d come to see Uncle Emil, hoping he would be in time, he’d come straight from the ship, smelling of fish and damp around the cuffs, frantic in a way that had terrified her.

“I came to see you, to thank you for helping Delphine, and to tidy up the mess her little adventure left.” He patted her back gently. “She and Varrick told Tenebrith the whole story—you know he’s a romantic at heart—and he told me when we crossed paths a few weeks later.”

“What mess do you think is left, then? The guilty were punished. Weber has no more anima. It is done.” It made her tired thinking about it. Morrow kept tabs on Weber. The sort of man who would summon dangerous creatures for profit would always be looking for a new opportunity, new ways to feed his greedy soul.

“The magus is still alive.” Cae stepped back. “He tore her aura, nearly sent her into a blank coma, took almost all of her anima, which she will never recover, and he’s still alive.” The last part came out in a snarl.

Of course. It was easy, when looking at the handsome man who adored giving gifts and, by his own admission, fell too easily in love, to imagine that was the whole of him. But he was a pirate. His gifts were all stolen. “Stolen presents mean more,” he said, and she and Emil had laughed, but that didn’t make them less stolen. When he said he guarded his children and their children zealously, that they were precious to him, it also meant he would be relentless and unforgiving in revenge. Rockhaven was lucky Maude had dealt with Weber and his creatures; Cae would have shed far more blood than Varrick did.

It seemed he planned to anyway.

“Only him. Morrow can tell you where to find him, but please, contain your violence to only the magus.” She could extract that much of a promise from him, and he would honor it.

“There was a woman. She runs a gambling den.” He didn’t ask a question, but it hung between them.

Maude shook her head. “No. There is no need. She was part of it, but they no longer associate.”

He narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Very well. Only the magus. But only because you ask.”

“I do ask.”

“If your butler knows where to find him, might I borrow the man? He seems handy.”

“Don’t pretend you need him.” Cae could wipe out a whole building—several buildings—if he took a mind to. Only the royal palace and university were well guarded and shielded enough to keep him out. King Albin had grown paranoid in his old age, increasing the security of the palace as each year went by. If he hadn’t, she might have paid Alora to eliminate the wretched man.

“My night will go more efficiently with a guide, and I’ll have time to join you for breakfast.”

“Very well. You have Morrow for the night. I can’t hope he’ll keep you out of trouble, but promise to keep him out of jail.”

“Darling Maudie, I thank you.” He bowed and kissed her hand. “As your venerable uncle, I now tell you to go to bed, have a good night’s sleep, and I will see you for breakfast.”

“Go.” She tried to sound stern, but failed.

He paused at the door. “Don’t worry. I shall clean up all my messes before dawn.”

Part 2 (coming soon)