Chapter Seven

Detlif listened carefully to the reports from his men who patrolled the borders of their enclave. Strangers in the area were always a concern, but this particular group of strangers posed a puzzle as well.

Fighting men, the reports said, who were kept busy repairing a manor house that had fallen into disrepair when the old owner had decided to move south with all his people, to more hospitable climes. This new group had shown up a few weeks ago and were busy chopping down trees and making the walls of the dilapidated house sound again. Smoke from their fireplaces and chimneys had been seen easily enough. They weren't trying to hide their presence. Far from it. It looked like they were moving in and setting up house, intending to stay.

Det didn't like it. He'd been happy when the old lord had packed up and left with his retainers. He'd thought he'd seen the last of men trying to make a go of it in that small sheltered valley surrounded by snowy peaks. It wasn't a great place to live, even though it didn't get the full brunt of most storms. It didn't have the protections of the enclave, and it was much, much smaller.

Detlif had flown out with Grennulf, his snow dragon heartmate, to do some reconnaissance of their own. He wanted to get a good look at the place, so he and his white dragon had landed on a snowy peak overlooking the house. Det couldn't see much detail from this distance, but Gren's eyes were much better.

"A wagon train comes through the pass from the south," Grennulf said into his mind. All dragons had much keener eyesight than their two-legged partners.

"More men?" Detlif spat. "I thought this bunch was it."

"Maybe this bunch was just setting things up for their master's arrival. The new wagons are much fancier than the ones that brought the supplies for this group. According to the scouts, this group all rode their own horses. The wagons were just for their gear and supplies. The wagons that are coming are more luxurious and probably set up for passengers," the dragon reported.

"Can we fly closer to see more? Or would we be too easily seen?" Det wondered.

"I suggest we stay here. One of those wagons has arcane markings on it. There's a possibility it carries a mage. In which case, we would do better not to draw any attention," Gren said.

"A mage?" Det shook his head. "This is not good."

"No, it is not," Gren agreed. "We will have to get someone from the mage's circle to come out and take a look to know for certain what we're dealing with, if what I suspect is true."

Nodding in agreement, though his dragon partner could not see it, Det sat quietly on Gren's back, waiting for the wagon train to reach its destination. They would learn more from watching how the newcomers were greeted by the advance team. Det and Gren would both be making note of everything they could observe.

*

Several weeks later, Detlif had a much better picture of what was going on in the refurbished manor house. There was definitely a mage in residence. The mages of the enclave were confused as to the new man's level of ability. They were getting conflicting messages from the energies put out near the manor house.

Careful probing had the mages of the enclave scratching their heads. The new man gave the overall impression of being a human mage of moderate power, but also of someone with knowledge of ancient magic. That part didn't really fit with the overall image. Which was why everybody was so confused. Was he immensely powerful or not? Nobody seemed able to answer that question with any reasonable certainty.

Det had elements of both his Guard and the Scouts running patrols high above the old manor and doing reconnaissance from a distance, keeping watch on any further developments. So far, nothing was happening. At least, nothing that they could see.

Det had a feeling—a gut instinct, more than anything else—that the new occupants of the manor meant to cause trouble. Only he didn't know what form that trouble might take. The mages in the enclave were preparing for magical attack. The warriors were preparing for a more mundane campaign. Det wasn't sure if it would be one or the other—or both.

So far, the seers hadn't been able to tell him anything. That, in itself, was odd. The seers in the enclave had been blocked once before, and it wasn't a good sign that they seemed to be blocked again, just as this confusing mage presence showed up practically on their doorstep. They should at least be able to see something about the new mage in the area.

Det and Gren were up on the mountain peak again, even though night was falling. They were watching from far away, hoping to puzzle out what was going on below. They'd come out this way a lot over the past weeks, but today, they were here looking for another magical presence that the mages had sensed, just briefly. If the mage in the manor house was gathering magical allies to himself, Det needed to know.

"Do you feel anything?" Det asked his dragon partner, who was much better at sensing magic. It was about time to head back to the enclave, but they would do one last sweep before leaving.

"Nothing new," Grennulf replied, then craned his neck slowly from side to side, covering the entire arc of the valley. He paused near the end of his sweep and seemed to focus on something. Det sat up straighter, ready for anything. "Something…"

Gren trailed off as Det waited impatiently to hear what his heartmate might say. Had they finally caught a break? He knew not to rush Grennulf, but his curiosity was making Det crazy.

"Something new to the southwest. A tiny ember as if someone was trying to hide their magical light and mostly succeeded. I wouldn't have noticed it at all except that we're looking so closely for any change in the flow of energy in the area," Gren finally reported.

"Another mage?" Det asked.

"Possibly. But they're stationary. They are not traveling toward the manor. I'm not sure if this is one of the new mage's allies or someone watching him as we are." Gren unfurled his wings. "I propose we go closer and have a better look."

"Good idea," Det agreed, eager to find out just what his heartmate had sensed.

Their job was to protect the enclave and the secret it guarded. He was dedicated to his work and wanted only to nullify any possible threat as soon as possible.

It took only moments for Gren to glide down from the high peak they had been on to position himself much closer to the energy disturbance he'd sensed. He came in from behind, setting down as snow began to fall and the sky darkened quickly. A storm had been brewing all day, and Det had hoped to be back in the enclave before it let loose, but the situation had changed, and he had to find out as much as possible before he left, even if he had to work through a raging torrent of snow and wind.

"I think the energy is located in that crag. I don't think our arrival was spotted. You can sneak up and do some reconnaissance on foot, and I'll back you up. And besides, nobody will be moving about except you in weather like this," Gren observed. They'd done this many times before during their long partnership, but the storm was an added element that was a lot harder on Det than it was on his dragon friend.

Det slid off of Gren's back and crept forward as the wind picked up. He crouched, approaching the crag in the ice-covered rock with all the stealth he could manage. As he drew closer, he realized the crag was not a crag at all, but a cave with a narrow opening, camouflaging the true size and depth of the interior.

And…someone was camping inside.

*

Loralie circled the manor house where she'd finally run Gebel to ground for a few days before she stumbled on the incredibly well-camouflaged cave. The pacas left few, if any, hoofprints on the shifting snow, so nobody could follow her trail. They were also quiet animals that only occasionally made sort of subtle humming noises. They were good companions on her lonely trek, and they carried all the supplies and equipment she would need for the task she had in mind.

She was going to study Gebel's new fortress and find a way to burn it to the ground. Preferably with him inside. But she knew he had access to magics he should not even know about. She had to plan this carefully and do it right. To that end, she was resolved to camp out and keep surveillance on his position, trying to figure out what he was up to and how best to achieve her objectives.

She'd settled into the cave, surprised to find it had everything she could wish for. Plenty of clean ice and snow she could melt over her tiny fire. That was her water source. The depth of the crag and the narrowness of the passageway meant nobody could see her light at night, and the height of the crag meant that any smoke or food smells went up through nature's chimney far, far above. Nobody would find her, and she could study Gebel and his intentions at her leisure.

She was eating dinner when the pacas grew a little restless. A storm was just starting outside their protected niche, and the animals didn't like it. She didn't blame them. Tonight, they would sleep together for warmth, as they had done ever since entering the mountains. The pair she called Salt and Pepper were trained to let her sleep between them, their warm bodies and soft fur helping to keep her warm.

They were good traveling companions and very clean once she'd shown them where they could relieve themselves. They were smart beasts, easily trained to a number of useful behaviors. Their fur was soft and silky, and surprisingly clean. They happily ate the grain she had packed along and whatever scrubby grass they found on their way up the mountains. Up this high, there was precious little for them to forage, but they did well enough on small portions of grain for now.

Loralie finished her meager meal and began cleaning up. The storm was really picking up outside, but she was well protected inside the cave. The narrowness of the opening didn't allow any of the wind to really penetrate, though nothing could warm the place to really comfortable temperatures at night.

She was about to bank the small fire she'd cooked over when the pacas went on alert. Their furry ears swiveled and pointed toward the narrow passage leading to the outside. Loralie stood, gathering what weapons she had to hand. Her staff was leaning against the cave wall. Too far away. She grabbed a piece of firewood and faced what might be coming. If it was some kind of predator, she would use a tiny bit of her magic on it to make it go away. She dared not use too much of her power this close to Gebel's new stronghold, lest he detect her presence, but she could probably do enough scare away a snow bear or mountain cat. She hoped.

But the predator who finally showed his face in the narrow opening into the larger section of cave was no ordinary beast. No. She knew this one. Knew him better than any other, and…she knew him not at all.

Her heart breaking, she lowered the stick in her hand and fought back the tears that wanted to come.

Detlif had found her.