frown. He’d vowed to join Lord Baronel’s investigation into nahual in memory of her, but had been side-tracked by Healing Craft. Not that his reason for taking up healing arts was frivolous. If there had been a healer on the survey team, they might have been able to save her. And knowing what he now knew about healing, he was sure of it. Even with all the blood loss.
“Ah! Gregor! My favorite customer.”
He laughed. “Master Malho, you say that to all your customers, I’m sure.”
“Not so, not so! You are my favorite customer.”
“My mother is your favorite customer. I send far fewer replies than she sends me letters.”
“Yes, yes, Lady Lora’s custom is most appreciated, that is true. But you did help me with my little . . . problem last year.”
“Well, I made suggestions for your diet, which not only helped with your problem, it made you healthier. How is your wife, anyway?”
“Much happier, thanks to you!”
Gregor chuckled. “Yes, well, she’ll be happy that you will live a longer, healthier life as well, I’m sure. Anything for me today?”
“Actually, I think . . . yes, yes. A letter. Though, not from Lady Lora, I don’t believe. Different handwriting.” He slid a thin envelope across the counter, through the window.
Gregor examined it. The handwriting of the person who’d written the delivery address was only vaguely familiar. Though, there was a seal on back—his fingers felt the blob—perhaps that would be a clue? Turning over the letter revealed his family crest pressed into the colored wax.
Was it his father? He twisted his mouth in a frown. Probably another request to join the company.
He looked at Master Malho, waved the letter, and said, “Thank you.”
“Any time, Journeyman. Any time.”
Gregor,
I have not written to you as much as I probably should have, for which I apologize. I get news of your life from your mother, so, perhaps that is why I tend to forget that you may wish to hear from me directly.
At any rate, from what Lora tells me, it sounds like you are doing well with your chosen craft, Healing, and I want you to know this makes me proud.
Lora also tells me that Baronel has a dragon. At first I thought your mother was playing some kind of joke on me, but I have heard this from other sources as well. I wonder if you could keep me apprised of anything you learn about this dragon. You may feel that this goes against loyalty to the lord of your caer, but I don’t think it is too much to ask. After all, Baronel does what he wants as long as it pleases him. Why shouldn’t we as well?
All my love,
Lord Eldin
+ + + + +
Millinith sat at a table in the investigation office, waiting for the others to arrive for the meeting. Her fingers drummed on its wooden surface as she stared at the letter she’d received this morning.
I should have anticipated this, she thought. The masters, too. Of course dragons would change things. How could they not? And when something new comes along, people used to the old ways panic.
When ether writers were first announced, paper producers formed an organization opposing them, fearing letters would stop being written if the ether writers went into wide use. Never mind that ether writers were expensive, requiring several dozen enchantments and at least four sorcerers to produce a single pair. She shook her head. Letters would be written for decades, if not centuries, to come. But change makes people uncomfortable.
And if you have a vested interest in the old way—
“Would you like some hot tea?”
Millinith’s entire body jerked. “Aeron! You startled me.”
He gave out an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I was distracted. I received some troubling news with the mail today. And, yes, thank you, hot tea would be wonderful.”
“News?” He handed the mug of tea to her, steam rising from its top.
“I’d prefer to wait until everyone was here
“Ah! Gregor! My favorite customer.”
He laughed. “Master Malho, you say that to all your customers, I’m sure.”
“Not so, not so! You are my favorite customer.”
“My mother is your favorite customer. I send far fewer replies than she sends me letters.”
“Yes, yes, Lady Lora’s custom is most appreciated, that is true. But you did help me with my little . . . problem last year.”
“Well, I made suggestions for your diet, which not only helped with your problem, it made you healthier. How is your wife, anyway?”
“Much happier, thanks to you!”
Gregor chuckled. “Yes, well, she’ll be happy that you will live a longer, healthier life as well, I’m sure. Anything for me today?”
“Actually, I think . . . yes, yes. A letter. Though, not from Lady Lora, I don’t believe. Different handwriting.” He slid a thin envelope across the counter, through the window.
Gregor examined it. The handwriting of the person who’d written the delivery address was only vaguely familiar. Though, there was a seal on back—his fingers felt the blob—perhaps that would be a clue? Turning over the letter revealed his family crest pressed into the colored wax.
Was it his father? He twisted his mouth in a frown. Probably another request to join the company.
He looked at Master Malho, waved the letter, and said, “Thank you.”
“Any time, Journeyman. Any time.”
Gregor,
I have not written to you as much as I probably should have, for which I apologize. I get news of your life from your mother, so, perhaps that is why I tend to forget that you may wish to hear from me directly.
At any rate, from what Lora tells me, it sounds like you are doing well with your chosen craft, Healing, and I want you to know this makes me proud.
Lora also tells me that Baronel has a dragon. At first I thought your mother was playing some kind of joke on me, but I have heard this from other sources as well. I wonder if you could keep me apprised of anything you learn about this dragon. You may feel that this goes against loyalty to the lord of your caer, but I don’t think it is too much to ask. After all, Baronel does what he wants as long as it pleases him. Why shouldn’t we as well?
All my love,
Lord Eldin
+ + + + +
Millinith sat at a table in the investigation office, waiting for the others to arrive for the meeting. Her fingers drummed on its wooden surface as she stared at the letter she’d received this morning.
I should have anticipated this, she thought. The masters, too. Of course dragons would change things. How could they not? And when something new comes along, people used to the old ways panic.
When ether writers were first announced, paper producers formed an organization opposing them, fearing letters would stop being written if the ether writers went into wide use. Never mind that ether writers were expensive, requiring several dozen enchantments and at least four sorcerers to produce a single pair. She shook her head. Letters would be written for decades, if not centuries, to come. But change makes people uncomfortable.
And if you have a vested interest in the old way—
“Would you like some hot tea?”
Millinith’s entire body jerked. “Aeron! You startled me.”
He gave out an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I was distracted. I received some troubling news with the mail today. And, yes, thank you, hot tea would be wonderful.”
“News?” He handed the mug of tea to her, steam rising from its top.
“I’d prefer to wait until everyone was here
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