Eric closed the kitchen door behind him and kicked off his damp running shoes, hanging his jacket on the hook on the wall. It was just shy of April. Sooner or later spring would get here, and the walk down the driveway to the mailbox would immediately become less of a chore.
Hmm, all the usual, addressed to Margaret: letters from a couple of witches she corresponded with regularly, a bill or two... and a rather official-looking envelope addressed to him, with the printed logo of a university?
Eric left the bills on the kitchen table, tucked the letters under one arm, and ripped the last one open. He made his way to his grandmother’s sitting room without ever looking away from the computer-printed letter in his hand. This had to be Jade's handiwork; he wondered whether his grandmother had known about it.
He tapped lightly on the open door, and entered.
Jade was nowhere to be seen; Margaret was oblivious to his presence. The table usually at her side was in front of her, bare of everything save a wide shallow glass bowl with a mirrored inner surface, into which she gazed, all her attention focused on it.
Eric knew better than to interrupt. He chose a comfortable chair and settled down to wait, reading and re-reading the letter, leaving the sealed letters on the long table.
Margaret shifted in her chair, stretching carefully. Eric filled a glass from the pitcher of ice and water on the longer table, took a homemade cookie out of its jar, and brought both to her.
“Thank you, Eric, I didn't realize you were here.”
“What were you checking on?”
“Oh, this and that, just taking a look around. Nadine's sister has a new apprentice who just might be one to worry about when he gets older, but he doesn't come from a witch family and has quite a lot of learning to do. I have to grant the Batistas that, they're generally very good at spotting potential. Philomena and Den Hassell are negotiating in secret, which could have some interesting consequences. That woodland Avery bought is thriving.”
“That's good to hear, especially given that most of the family contributed money towards it, efforts to cleanse the crud that got dumped there, or both.”
“Definitely, but it appears to have been worth it. With enough wards against hunting, the local wildlife will have a sanctuary in any season. There's enough land there to keep at least a few black bears safe from the annual slaughter. To say nothing of the wolves and such. As for other matters, I think we'll soon see what Christian Terevan is made of.”
“The Fellowship is going to move?”
“He's been flinging around quite a lot of power in the course of the housecleaning he's been doing, and he's flinging it in interesting ways. I’ve heard a rumour that I can’t confirm, that the reason Garrett Pascalle was on an absolute rampage for a while over the early winter was because someone stole a very powerful liminal from him and he couldn’t claim damages, so not a Fellowship witch. It wasn’t a Lyndell, and I don’t know of anyone more probable than Christian. It wouldn’t surprise me if stole translates more properly as freed, given Seth’s approach. Unless he has a teacher no one knows about, he's even more clever than his mother at finding new uses for his abilities. He's clearly stronger.”
“Could he have a teacher? Other than his family by long distance?”
“His grandfather and mother are both experts at summoning and befriending liminals and, less so, elementals. It's a mystery to me why no one else seems to recognize the significance of that, although I suppose the belief that liminals are inferior and their only role is as tools and slaves might be influencing their ability to reach conclusions that contradict that. I think the odds of Seth and Rosa going overseas and leaving him without some sort of powerful and intelligent teacher or protector or both are very low. Whatever it is, though, it's staying surprisingly well-hidden.”
“Should be interesting to see what happens when the Fellowship tries to drag him in, then.”
Margaret shrugged. “It depends entirely on what he has as a companion and what choices he makes. He might decide to join the Fellowship, out of ambition or loneliness or simply because he doesn't realize what they really are, although I'm certain at least Ruth would have given him some warning. I really hope that at the very least he keeps the Fellowship out of that library, because there are some singular materials in there that the Fellowship really does not need to have and would not make responsible use of and might very well decide to destroy in the name of their rules. His companion may not be capable of recognizing threats, or may not recognize them in anything but the most literal terms. We shall see. So, what brings you here?”
“I just got an acceptance letter from a university, and I know damned well I didn't apply to any. I'm going to assume a certain sneaky vixen had a couple of paws in this, but were you involved?”
“She applied to university for you?” Margaret laughed. “Oh, she's incorrigible. No, I knew nothing at all about it.” She held out a hand, and he passed her the letter and accompanying information.
“Would you like to tell her not to do such things, or shall I?”
Margaret sobered. “I'm not certain it was a bad idea.”
“What? I'm not going to leave you! You need me here. I thought we already established this, ages ago.”
“Jade has spoken to me a time or two. She's concerned that there's a limit as to what you can learn about computers without formal education. If nothing else, being self-taught is less likely to get you any job you'd actually want. We’re also both concerned that your social life consists almost entirely of Jade and I and the Internet. There's no one in the area even close to your age that you enjoy spending much time with. You haven't had a girlfriend since you graduated from high school. As enthusiastic as Jade may be, that isn't the same as relating to humans your own age. I will not have you wasting your entire youth here nursing me. Jade can do a great deal, and it's simple enough to hire someone to come in to do the laundry and such.”
“And then you have a stranger underfoot and have to be more careful! There’s no one else in the family who isn’t busy with other things and needs to be where they are!”
“That isn't such a dire thing as you seem to think.” Margaret studied the papers in her hand thoughtfully. “Money for tuition and living expenses is immaterial, we can cover that. We’ll need to discuss whether to look at a room in residence, or an apartment of your own, or sharing a house with other students, and which would be better for you, and then make arrangements. I know you’re resourceful and adaptable and make friends quickly, but you’ve never lived in a city and I admit to being a little worried about abandoning you in one with no friends. Which university is it, again?” Her expression changed as she paused, eyebrows rising fractionally, then she shrugged and handed the papers back to him. “We can look at that later.”
“I don't want to leave you,” Eric insisted, but he knew it was in vain. Margaret rarely made decisions for him, but this time she had, and there was no real point to arguing.
A part of him that he tried to ignore bounced up and down gleefully. He was going to go live in a city with lots of people and go to a university so he could learn more about his favourite subject!
Margaret gave him a gentle smile. “You can always come home, dear, you know that. But you need this. Now, go call your mother and tell her you're going to university.”
Eric nodded, conceding a battle he wasn't sure whether he'd lost or won. “Jade is still going to get it for this.”
Margaret tilted her head to one side, and grinned. “She's small enough I'm sure you could turn her over your knee and spank her.”
“Right, like she wouldn't enjoy it, the little wench. I'll think of something. Need anything?”
“Bring me my embroidery?”
“Sure. Spaghetti okay for supper?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, you have a couple of letters. One from Kester, one from Odette.”
“Wonderful!”
Eric set the table back in its proper spot at her side, and deposited the basket of her embroidery materials and her letters in place of the bowl. The bowl itself he took to the kitchen to empty and rinse and carefully dry and wrap in the white velvet that would keep it from getting scratched.
Only then did he phone his mother.
Eric closed the kitchen door behind him and kicked off his damp running shoes, hanging his jacket on the hook on the wall. It was just shy of April. Sooner or later spring would get here, and the walk down the driveway to the mailbox would immediately become less of a chore.
Hmm, all the usual, addressed to Margaret: letters from a couple of witches she corresponded with regularly, a bill or two... and a rather official-looking envelope addressed to him, with the printed logo of a university?
Eric left the bills on the kitchen table, tucked the letters under one arm, and ripped the last one open. He made his way to his grandmother’s sitting room without ever looking away from the computer-printed letter in his hand. This had to be Jade's handiwork; he wondered whether his grandmother had known about it.
He tapped lightly on the open door, and entered.
Jade was nowhere to be seen; Margaret was oblivious to his presence. The table usually at her side was in front of her, bare of everything save a wide shallow glass bowl with a mirrored inner surface, into which she gazed, all her attention focused on it.
Eric knew better than to interrupt. He chose a comfortable chair and settled down to wait, reading and re-reading the letter, leaving the sealed letters on the long table.
Margaret shifted in her chair, stretching carefully. Eric filled a glass from the pitcher of ice and water on the longer table, took a homemade cookie out of its jar, and brought both to her.
“Thank you, Eric, I didn't realize you were here.”
“What were you checking on?”
“Oh, this and that, just taking a look around. Nadine's sister has a new apprentice who just might be one to worry about when he gets older, but he doesn't come from a witch family and has quite a lot of learning to do. I have to grant the Batistas that, they're generally very good at spotting potential. Philomena and Den Hassell are negotiating in secret, which could have some interesting consequences. That woodland Avery bought is thriving.”
“That's good to hear, especially given that most of the family contributed money towards it, efforts to cleanse the crud that got dumped there, or both.”
“Definitely, but it appears to have been worth it. With enough wards against hunting, the local wildlife will have a sanctuary in any season. There's enough land there to keep at least a few black bears safe from the annual slaughter. To say nothing of the wolves and such. As for other matters, I think we'll soon see what Christian Terevan is made of.”
“The Fellowship is going to move?”
“He's been flinging around quite a lot of power in the course of the housecleaning he's been doing, and he's flinging it in interesting ways. I’ve heard a rumour that I can’t confirm, that the reason Garrett Pascalle was on an absolute rampage for a while over the early winter was because someone stole a very powerful liminal from him and he couldn’t claim damages, so not a Fellowship witch. It wasn’t a Lyndell, and I don’t know of anyone more probable than Christian. It wouldn’t surprise me if stole translates more properly as freed, given Seth’s approach. Unless he has a teacher no one knows about, he's even more clever than his mother at finding new uses for his abilities. He's clearly stronger.”
“Could he have a teacher? Other than his family by long distance?”
“His grandfather and mother are both experts at summoning and befriending liminals and, less so, elementals. It's a mystery to me why no one else seems to recognize the significance of that, although I suppose the belief that liminals are inferior and their only role is as tools and slaves might be influencing their ability to reach conclusions that contradict that. I think the odds of Seth and Rosa going overseas and leaving him without some sort of powerful and intelligent teacher or protector or both are very low. Whatever it is, though, it's staying surprisingly well-hidden.”
“Should be interesting to see what happens when the Fellowship tries to drag him in, then.”
Margaret shrugged. “It depends entirely on what he has as a companion and what choices he makes. He might decide to join the Fellowship, out of ambition or loneliness or simply because he doesn't realize what they really are, although I'm certain at least Ruth would have given him some warning. I really hope that at the very least he keeps the Fellowship out of that library, because there are some singular materials in there that the Fellowship really does not need to have and would not make responsible use of and might very well decide to destroy in the name of their rules. His companion may not be capable of recognizing threats, or may not recognize them in anything but the most literal terms. We shall see. So, what brings you here?”
“I just got an acceptance letter from a university, and I know damned well I didn't apply to any. I'm going to assume a certain sneaky vixen had a couple of paws in this, but were you involved?”
“She applied to university for you?” Margaret laughed. “Oh, she's incorrigible. No, I knew nothing at all about it.” She held out a hand, and he passed her the letter and accompanying information.
“Would you like to tell her not to do such things, or shall I?”
Margaret sobered. “I'm not certain it was a bad idea.”
“What? I'm not going to leave you! You need me here. I thought we already established this, ages ago.”
“Jade has spoken to me a time or two. She's concerned that there's a limit as to what you can learn about computers without formal education. If nothing else, being self-taught is less likely to get you any job you'd actually want. We’re also both concerned that your social life consists almost entirely of Jade and I and the Internet. There's no one in the area even close to your age that you enjoy spending much time with. You haven't had a girlfriend since you graduated from high school. As enthusiastic as Jade may be, that isn't the same as relating to humans your own age. I will not have you wasting your entire youth here nursing me. Jade can do a great deal, and it's simple enough to hire someone to come in to do the laundry and such.”
“And then you have a stranger underfoot and have to be more careful! There’s no one else in the family who isn’t busy with other things and needs to be where they are!”
“That isn't such a dire thing as you seem to think.” Margaret studied the papers in her hand thoughtfully. “Money for tuition and living expenses is immaterial, we can cover that. We’ll need to discuss whether to look at a room in residence, or an apartment of your own, or sharing a house with other students, and which would be better for you, and then make arrangements. I know you’re resourceful and adaptable and make friends quickly, but you’ve never lived in a city and I admit to being a little worried about abandoning you in one with no friends. Which university is it, again?” Her expression changed as she paused, eyebrows rising fractionally, then she shrugged and handed the papers back to him. “We can look at that later.”
“I don't want to leave you,” Eric insisted, but he knew it was in vain. Margaret rarely made decisions for him, but this time she had, and there was no real point to arguing.
A part of him that he tried to ignore bounced up and down gleefully. He was going to go live in a city with lots of people and go to a university so he could learn more about his favourite subject!
Margaret gave him a gentle smile. “You can always come home, dear, you know that. But you need this. Now, go call your mother and tell her you're going to university.”
Eric nodded, conceding a battle he wasn't sure whether he'd lost or won. “Jade is still going to get it for this.”
Margaret tilted her head to one side, and grinned. “She's small enough I'm sure you could turn her over your knee and spank her.”
“Right, like she wouldn't enjoy it, the little wench. I'll think of something. Need anything?”
“Bring me my embroidery?”
“Sure. Spaghetti okay for supper?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, you have a couple of letters. One from Kester, one from Odette.”
“Wonderful!”
Eric set the table back in its proper spot at her side, and deposited the basket of her embroidery materials and her letters in place of the bowl. The bowl itself he took to the kitchen to empty and rinse and carefully dry and wrap in the white velvet that would keep it from getting scratched.
Only then did he phone his mother.
