Abaddon's Call

Chapter Fifteen

Graydon's proofing was done, and unlike Andle's botched attempt to clear a smuggling ring that ended in the deaths of four civilians unrelated to the matter, the Pan heir pulled it off flawlessly. Even when his father attempted to chastise him, he quipped back so quickly and was well within his rights to do so.

This, mostly, Trild found himself explaining to Alena, unable to tell if it were his own genuine desire to share with her or some magic ingrained as deeply as the spells woven into the salon.

When he finished his tale of astonishment, Alena looked like she wanted to say something, so he pushed her just a little. He didn't want a mute wife, and he knew she had the sense of mind to understand at least some of what he was saying.

With her experience, her insight could be beneficial.

Not something many men could say about their wives, if those wives were invited to speak their minds at such moments.

"Did she have pockets?" Alena asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" he countered.

"Well, the boys complained about small pockets," Alena said. "And Theon told them women aren't even allowed pockets because their husbands used to hide spells in there. So the wives would be mauled and stripped naked and such. The boys said they couldn't possibly fit anything in the pockets, not even their hands to warm them in winter, and Theon told them to spell their pockets."

Trild stood without quite realizing what he was doing.

"Excuse me," he said as he took his leave.

Naena had lived on the streets and had been worn thin but not starvation thin when she appeared in class. Street rats were always lean, but she hadn't looked completely starved. Those who didn't starve either whored themselves out or stole, or both, and Trild knew that Naena hit men who propositioned her.

Of course, the woman had pockets and light fingers to go along with them.

He found Theon's study, strapped on a backbone, and beat on the door. Theon answered with an arched eyebrow.

"Fuck off, Kaulu," Theon said before he attempted to close the door.

"I need to speak with your lord."

"Here," Luk called out, sighing into Lord Pan as he walked toward them from the direction of the salon. "Here, Trild Kaulu, whatever is the issue? Now, recall, Pan does not dabble with formal complaints regarding alarms waking people after bedtime."

"No, but I do believe this should be spoken in private."

Trild drew Luk to his study, causing Alena to flee to the bedroom from her place at his desk, writing her mother a letter from the look of it. The letter contained the usual woman things, and Alena began a paragraph with, "I know you think it wasted..."

He turned the letter over and stood behind his desk but did not sit at it as Lord Pan watched him.

"Your girl has pockets," Trild said. "And quick fingers. It cannot be discounted that this magic can be tragically dangerous—and your girl has pockets, quick fingers, and a curiosity that knows no limits."

Lord Pan muttered a curse, closed his eyes, then nodded twice.

The look was of a man who felt he should have thought of that, one who saw the wisdom in bringing something like that forward. Arch magic was craved, yes, but the Seven researchers knew what to avoid in an arch mage room. Many of the items they looked for would draw a mage to them, just begging to be taken home.

"She's most likely spelled her damned pockets, and Theon has sent them off. Otherwise, he would have called for you to enter rather than answer the door himself," Luk muttered.