Page 63 of Ryld's Shadows
“A good analogy, I think.” Dzev placed his hands flat on the floor, and Ryld nearly cried out when he pulled power into his fingers. But it was a small amount and the only thing Dzev did was to make a little horse out of fog and have it run in circles on the carpet in front of him. “Most, though not all, drow magic is pulled up from the earth. From the mother of us all. When we came to this place, drow mages also discovered a power in numbers and computers, but we still pull the power up from below. Yours lies within you. A great dam of power I sensed even as I climbed the stairs."
The words rang true. It did feel as if he held back the weight of a tremendous force within him.
“Why did you come?” Ryld asked again.
“I knew someone very like you. Before crossing. Lady Ksatha thought I might be able to help where the aelfe have failed.”
“Why did you not come before?”
Now Dzev smiled. “Diplomacy. The aelfe do like to, shall we say, do things their way. Lady Jessamine would very much like to have you in her court, I’m sure. It was better to wait to see if the aelfe could help you first.”
“I will not be a part of any court. Not ever.”
“A shame. Lady Ksatha would have gladly offered you a place in hers. One of prestige. A special place by her side.” Dzev held up a hand when Ryld started to speak. “But Kai has told her that your fear of drow runs deep, in painful, jagged canyons. It saddens me that you were treated so shamefully, but I will not push. These things take time. I offer myself as a teacher, a more appropriate one than any aelfe, and the offer will stand no matter what you say to me today.”
“I won’t go to the drow.”
“Understandable. If you agree, I will meet you wherever you wish. It is better to be outside than confined to a stuffy room anyway.”
“I will…think about it.”
“That is all I can ask. Send to me at the drow court if you wish to meet.” Dzev tucked his toes under and rose in one fluid motion. “An honor to meet you regardless, Ryld. Be well.”
With that, he leaned over to knock on the door. The goblin servant opened it, Dzev went through, and the door closed behind them, leaving Ryld to stare at the place the mage had knelt on the carpet. A court mage,kneelingon the carpet, just so he wouldn’t scare Ryld.
He had a lot to ponder while he waited for Hank and Kai to return. The making of patterns usually soothed and focused him, but even that could not hold his attention long. He began to pace, one room to the next and back again. The time for a midday meal came and went but he was not hungry. Could this drow mage really teach him anything? Could he know more than Kai? It didn’t seem possible. Kai was very powerful. But every time he thought back on the meeting he came to the same words. A great dam of power. He could feel the pressure pushing on him as he thought the words. And what of the other things he said? That Lady Jessamine would very much like him to join her court. Why? Why would she want that? Everyone he’d passed in the halls either eyed him warily or stared with barely concealed hostility. The aelfe held no love for the drow, and even here where the old wars and generations of conflicts were supposed to be left behind, there was still a deep mistrust. Her people did not want him here, why would she?
All these questions going around and around. He could barely contain himself when hours later the door finally opened, and Hank and Kai came through.
“I met a drow mage. Did you see there is a guard on the door? He’s pretending not to be, but that is his purpose. You don’t look well. Are you hurt?”
“We’re fine.” Hank gave his arm a squeeze. “That was, um, a lot. And we’ve heard things we wish we hadn’t.”
Kai still stood near the door, sniffing the air. “Mage, yes. He worked magic here. Ryld, areyouwell? Did he try to take you?”
“Take me? No. He made a horse run. Why would Lady Jessamine want me to stay in her court?”
“A…horse.” Kai’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Perhaps you could begin from the drow mage coming to your door and tell us what occurred. In the order of occurrence.”
“The goblin guard came first. He said a drow wished to see me. I almost sent him away, but I wanted to know why he had come. He…said things.” Ryld struggled to recall exactly what. “Earth magic, dams of power, he would teach me if I wanted, he made a horse to show me how he drew power, but his was very little compared to when you draw power.” Ryld sniffed in a very close approximation of one of Kai’s expressions. “His eyes were gray. He went away when I said I would think about meeting him again. He wanted to laugh when I said the aelfe mages were idiots.” Ryld paused. “That might not all be in order.”
“I’m sure it was fairly close,” Kai said in a distracted fashion. “A court mage. A diplomat.”
“Yes! He said diplomacy kept him from coming before now.”
“What is she playing at? Did he say that Lady Ksatha also would like you to join her court?”
Ryld nodded, his head turning to watch Kai pace.
“Telling you Lady Jessamine wants you for hers. Showing you… Ach. Drow politics. This is why I left Elvenhome in the first place.” Kai threw himself down onto the sofa to scowl at his boots. “His eyes were gray. I wonder if it was a ploy or if this one truly has seen something like your shadows before.”
“He said he had known one like me before the crossing. Kai Hiltas, why would Lady Jessamine want me to stay when all of her people want me to go?”
“She has offered to let you stay as long as you need.” Kai made a fluttering gesture. “She knows her court would rather you left, but she feels you would be safer here than in the city. That would be entirely up to you, of course. But I don’t think she realizes that a familiar environment would be safer for you. Her court can’t contain you.” He stopped muttering and glanced up at Ryld. “Have you really never seen me draw a trickle of power? Has it always been during great need?”
Ryld shifted from foot to foot. There was something important that seemed just out of his grasp, but Kai didn’t seem concerned the same way he was. Perhaps he misunderstood. It was not uncommon for him to get something wrong when he first met a person.
“What good is a trickle against an avalanche coming?”
