In Shade and Shadow

Wynn's mouth dangled open. "How much longer?"

Il'Sänke arched one thick eyebrow.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just taken so long, but I'm grateful for your effort and faith in me."

Domin il'Sänke rewrapped the crystal and slipped it inside his robe. "Then as repayment, you will come out among your peers. Play at cards, discuss local politics, drink tea, anything besides this self-imposed cloister."

Wynn quickly shook her head. "No, no, I'm… I have things to work on privately."

"No, you do not!" he answered sharply. "Not without my supervision. If only I could find a way to remove your… talent."

At that Wynn turned narrow-eyed herself.

He was the only one here who knew of her malady, and she noticed the glistening of his brow. Shutting off her mantic sight hadn't been easy on him, even as an adept mage. Not as it had been for Chap, with his Fay nature.

When she'd first told il'Sänke, he'd seemed anxious and angry, immediately suggesting he try to «cure» her. She'd hesitated, and then refused. That didn't please him, and he insisted she not tamper with her sight except under his supervision.

He'd said «could» and not «should» concerning removing her mantic sight. Had he been trying something behind her back?

Il'Sänke placed a hand behind her shoulder and propelled her toward the door.

"Your work can wait. Come."

Annoyed at being forced from privacy, Wynn couldn't think of a polite refusal. Not after all his efforts on her behalf. She allowed herself to be escorted into the outer stone passage.

Along the hallway they passed other doors to small chambers of other apprentice and journeyor sages. They headed down the far narrow stairs and out an old oak door. Entering the castle's inner courtyard, il'Sänke herded her to the same double doors she'd watched from her window. When the domin pulled one door wide, warm air with a thin taint of smoke, and the sounds of voices, spilled out around Wynn.

Even in her hesitation, il'Sänke waited patiently until she stepped into the entryway. She followed as he headed left down the passage leading into what had once been half of the castle's old great hall.

In spite of everything since Wynn's return, she loved this place—this old fortress. Over four centuries past, the first rulers of Malourné had resided here, when Calm Seatt had barely been a city. But they'd embarked upon plans for a new and greater castle. The royal court moved in, and this first castle became a barracks for the country's armed forces.

Two centuries later, Queen Âlfwine II saw a need for something more. Several scholars of history thought she desired a more lavish residence, while others claimed that—like her descendants—she wanted a place where she could view the sea. Those of the royal bloodline had always shown a strange attraction to the open waters, even unto tragedy. To this day no one knew why the sea called to the family of Âreskynna. Even their name meant "kin of the ocean waves."

Âlfwine II oversaw designs of an elaborate castle closer to Beranlômr Bay. The nation's armed forces, including a newly established city guard to augment the constabularies, moved to the vacated second castle. The first castle—by far the oldest and smallest—was given over to the early beginnings of the Guild of Sagecraft.

And since that time, with the help of the dwarves across the bay in Dhredze Seatt, who had lent their legendary stonecraft to the building of all three fortifications, the first castle was modified to meet the sages' needs. New buildings were attached to the main keep's exterior in its inner bailey.

The keep of the guiled p of thd's castle was a hollowed square, its inner courtyard surrounded by the outer walls, with inner buildings flush against them. The round corner towers were now used for the offices and studies of domins and premins. Wynn's room was located on the second floor of the old barracks to the courtyard's southeast side.

"Perhaps some cinnamon bread is left over from this morning?" il'Sänke mused, stepping ahead of her.

Wynn almost smiled. The Suman sage had a fondness for spiced cakes and breads, perhaps missing his homeland more than he acknowledged. Down the passage, they rounded a main archway into a great hall.

Here the royals of Malourné once entertained guests of high birth and visiting dignitaries. But the space was now the guild's common hall, filled with a variety of mismatched tables and chairs, stools and benches. It was used for everything from off-hour meals and light studies to leisure pursuits and social gatherings. As a child Wynn had spent happy evenings here, with the enormous hearth in the back wall blazing with piled logs. The royal family was generous in increasing the guild's yearly budget.