Through the Darkness

Ilmarinen stood waiting on the platform when she got off. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, reaching for her carpetbag. “With any luck at all, we’ll blast the whole world to a cinder this time--and then we’ll teach the Lagoans how to do it, too.” His smile was wide and bright and full of vitriol.

“Would you rather have the Algarvians learn first?” Pekka replied. Her wave encompassed Yliharma. “Look what they did with the old magic. If the new is what we think it is, and if they learn it--”

Ilmarinen interrupted her: “We don’t know how close they are. We don’t know if they’re working on it at all. We do know the Lagoans will find some way to diddle us if they learn what we know.”

“No, we don’t know that,” Pekka replied in some exasperation. “We’ve been down this ley line before. And we don’t know enough to make the new magic work for us, not yet. Maybe the Lagoans will help us find the rest of what we need.”

“More likely they’ll steal it from us,” Ilmarinen said.

Instead of arguing any more, Pekka strode past him off the platform and toward the gateways leading out of the depot. That made him hurry after her and kept him too busy to complain. When he leaped into the street to wave down a cab, she smiled sweetly and said, “Thank you very much.”

“You’d have taken a whole bloody week before you got one,” Ilmarinen said--grumbling about one thing seemed to suit him as well as grumbling about another. He raised his voice to give the hackman an order: “The Principality.”

“Aye, sir,” the fellow said, and flicked the reins to get his horse going.

Workmen on scaffolds and in trenches still labored to repair the damage Yliharma had suffered in the sorcerous attack the winter before, but there were fewer of them than there had been on her latest visit. More and more Kuusamans went into the service of the Seven Princes every day. Pekka knew that all too well; every night she slept alone reminded her of it.

She slept alone in the Principality that night, in more luxury than she would have enjoyed back home. It failed to delight her. She would have traded all of it for Leino beside her, but knew she would have had to make the trip to Yliharma even if her husband had stayed at his Kajaani City College post.

In the morning, she ate smoked salmon and rings of red onion on a hard roll in the hotel dining room. Hot herb tea went well with the delicate fish. It also helped fortify her against the chilly drizzle that had started falling during the night.

As she was eating, Master Siuntio came into the dining room, accompanied by a tall, redheaded man who used a pair of crutches and one good leg to move himself along. The elderly theoretical sorcerer waved to Pekka. “Hello, my dear,” he said, hurrying toward her table. Then he switched from Kuusaman to classical Kaunian: “Mistress, I have the honor to introduce to you the first-rank mage, Fernao of Lagoas.”

“I am honored to meet you, Mistress Pekka.” As any first-rank mage would, Fernao spoke the universal tongue of scholarship well. He went on, “I know several languages, but I fear Kuusaman is not among them. I apologize for my ignorance.”

Pekka rose and extended her hand. A little awkwardly, Fernao shifted his crutch to free his own hand and clasp hers. He towered over her, but his injuries, his courteous speech, and his narrow, slanted eyes made him seem safer than he might have otherwise. She said, “No apologies needed. Everyone is ignorant of a great many things.”

He inclined his head. “You are kind. I should not be ignorant of the language of a kingdom I am visiting. Corresponding with you in classical Kaunian is well enough, but I ought to be able to use your tongue face-to-face.”

With a shrug, Pekka answered, “I read Lagoan well enough, but I would not care to try to speak it. And”--she smiled--”when we corresponded, we had little to say, no matter how long we took to say it. Will you both sit down and take breakfast with me?” Another thought occurred to her; she asked Fernao, “Can you sit down?”

“Carefully,” he answered. “Slowly. Otherwise I end up on the floor, without even the pleasure of getting drunk first.” Siuntio pulled out a chair for him. He sat exactly as he’d said he would, too. A waiter hurried over. The fellow proved to know Lagoan, which didn’t greatly surprise Pekka--travelers from many lands stayed at the Principality, and the hostel staff had to be able to meet their needs.

Siuntio said, “Fernao has already offered several suggestions I think good; our experiments will go forward better and faster because he is here.” He spoke classical Kaunian as if he were big and blond and snatched by sorcery from the heyday of the Empire. Pekka was sure he spoke fluent Lagoan, too, but he didn’t use it here.