he rain lashed the front of the Shrine Tavern and poured over the eaves of the old building.  It soaked into the roads and bare fields of Cannaghdown, and covered the town in a fresh layer of thick mud. We stood outside, under the eaves, chewing candied firebulb rinds as evening set. The rinds burned our tongues with their spicy sweetness.

“I’ve never been farther than the Breah.  Sad, isn’t it? I’ve spent my whole life within two day’s walk of the castle.  It will be good to see someplace new,” I said. “How long will we be gone?” A few weeks previous, Goran had asked me to travel with him to his master’s mine outside of Fogreach. At first I wasn’t very interested in joining him, but meeting my father has changed that.

“More than a week.” He spit out a tough bit of rind into the mud with a splat. For all the respect I had for him, he could never make it at court.

“Mmm. Yes, that could be just the thing,” I said.  I’m sure my father wouldn’t agree.  But it would be a good trial for a future leave-taking.

“What do you mean?” said Goran.

his morning I spoke with Ivar.  He came by the forge to ask me to make the new gears.  (I know Kean sent him, but I don’t mind.)  I promised to mend the teeth, although it is not very easy.  Kean will have his mechanical contrivance in a few days.

Some time ago, I had mentioned to Ivar that I would be traveling soon to one of the Duke’s mines. Today, when I brought it up again, his face lit up, and Ivar begged eagerly to join me.  I think he would have left with me today if he could have.

“We have to wait for Mossvar’s caravan,” I told him.

“What need?” Ivar asked.  “Is he expected soon?”

“It’s not safe to travel alone.”  Poor Ivar.  He has no knowledge of the world outside the castle, for all he has read more books and scrolls than I have counted stars.

“Oh,” he said, and he seemed disappointed.  “Well, when is Mossvar coming?”

I shrugged.  “He’s never been this late.  Roads are bad.”

Tonight is Gorvannen’s Night.  The old people whisper that it is a night of ill omen, but I do not believe such things.  Mossvar will surely come soon.

he magical incantation wormed its way around my mind as I crept to Fina’s door in the early morning darkness. I realized it was the time of skullduggery, the time of thieves. If seen and recognized, my night travel would raise suspicions.

I arrived at Fina’s door. I reached into my cloak and removed a small pouch of pollen, and measured a pinch of it into my hand. To this I added the extra powdered ingredients that the book had recommended for my purpose: ground rose petals for romantic association, and ashes of a page covered in my own confessions. Over it I whispered my desire for persuasion in the secret language Kean had taught me, followed by the singsong phrases of the spell.

The enchantment on the carrier pollen was set. For a moment, I was struck by a sense of foreboding, so I paused, listening for footsteps, and peered down the hall. Only a muffled wind haunted the darkness, so I laid down on the cold flagstones. I felt for the crack under the door and quietly blew the dust into it. Surely, some of it was caught by the light breeze in the hall, but I was confident that enough had found its way into her room. It would carry the enchantment to her by morning. I imagined it floating up into the air around her sleeping form, thousands of tiny motes carrying a suggestion, a hint, that she should give me the knowledge I sought.

Later that morning, I knocked on Fina’s door. The sun had just crested the far hills, but she routinely rises early to write letters and read in the quiet of the castle solarium. I gulped, and prepared to ask her to walk with me, running the words over and over in my head.

A thunk sounded as she drew the bolt aside, and the door creaked open a crack. One green eye peeked out at me, framed by the half of her face that I could see.

“Ivar?” she said.

“Good morning,” I said. I caught a glimpse of her nightgown. Bloody hell! Too early! Idiot! “Uh, ah—I apologize. I thought you would be ready to walk down. I’m so sorry.” I bowed meekly, not knowing what else to do, and left.

Or I would have left, had I been a moment faster. Her hand reached out and clasped mine, and she reeled me back into the room.

ying to Kean was easier than I expected. He just nodded sagely and said, “Escaping the grave. Your father always had interesting ideas. Often unfeasible, but that rarely stopped him.” He also agreed to begin teaching me scientific studies, which he admitted to being lax about.

Another issue concerns me, however. If I leave the castle, I will leave Fina behind. I’ve decided to find out what she thinks of me before I leave.

Tomorrow in the early morning hours, I will lay the persuasion enchantment at her doorstep. Then, I will “chance” upon her in the hallway and we will engage in pleasant conversation. I’ll tell her that I’m leaving Cannaghdown. At that point, she should tell me her feelings, assuming the enchantment works as planned.

If it does not work, I can wait a few more days and try the enchantment again. I’ll worry about the rest of the details later.

The book from Badger is very interesting. It contains at least a few bits of lore and ritual that Kean either does not know, or has not seen fit to teach me. I’ll have to think of a good gift to give Badger in return. Such a friend deserves no less.