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“Please,” Perl says, “that is not the point. The point is, he saw you. I have disguised the way you look.”
“No you haven’t,” Kerik says. “You said you did not need to as I am already a pleasing specimen that a fae would select for a thrall.”
“My changes were small. But I changed your eyes. The glittering in your eyes. The sign of your fae blood. Did he look at your eyes?”
Kerik shrugs. “I suppose. He was peering at me in that unnerving way you creatures look at me. Do you think he desires me?”
Perl ignores this. “If he saw the glitter in your eyes, he may know what you are. Who you are. And if he tells anyone that you have fae blood… I have explained how the fae feel about mixing our blood with lesser creatures. If it became known you were related to the Hevelikar.”
“I am no Hevelikar,” Kerik spits back. “The Hevelikar are traitors.”
“Still,” Perl stands from the bed. “Even if he knows it is likely that Vane will not tell anyone immediately. He will keep the information and decide the best way he can use it for himself. If I can move fast, we can be gone before he chooses to reveal it. Revealing who you are would get us both killed, but that matters not if we are long gone.”
“Then perhaps we should leave.”
Perl shakes his head. “We cannot. I do not have enough magic yet for us to leave. Creating another salt door needs a lot of power. It took me five years to amass enough in Ismagaar.”
“Five years?” Kerik’s mouth drops open in shock. “We have to remain here five years before you can get us back? Surely Vane will have us both killed before then.”
“Of course not,” Perl waves a hand. “That would be quite ridiculous. No, it will take around a day to gain enough power here in Vylenor. Enough time to get the sword and leave. And I know Vane. He will wait. He enjoys playing games more than anything. So long as we are careful around him.”
Kerik looks at Perl. His brown eyes look strangely large. He bites his full bottom lip. “Very well, Master. I will do as I am bid. What do you require of me now?” He says making his last offer with a suggestive wink.
Perl scowls back, snapping, “Sleep. Sleep and do not wander again. Do not even wander in your dreams. On the morrow, at the Silver Ball I will ask Exeinil for a boon and when she grants it I will ask for Iceheart, the sword and we will leave this place and nothing here will be of importance to us.”
“Are you sure she will give you this sword if you ask for it? If it is such a great magical weapon?”
“She does not know the truth of the sword. It’s true purpose was never known to her or any of the fae here.”
“Very well,” says Kerik. “But will the sword help me to do magic?”
“I believe it will. It will focus your power. I did not expect your magic to awaken without it.”
“But it has,” Kerik preens.
“Yes. I believe that is clear. At least something good has come from your disobedience tonight.”
“Can you teach me more magic?”
Perl leans forward. “Kerik Darekul, have you any idea what would be done to us if it were discovered that I were teaching my mortal thrall to do magic. Bad enough that Vane thinks I granted you a magical token. Now, please, it’s the middle of the night. Let us sleep.”
Perl waves a hand to turn down the ice light.
He lies back on the bed. Leaving Kerik to take the one on the floor.
“Will you though?” says Kerik in the dark. “Will you teach me?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Master.”
When Perl wakes it takes him a moment to remember where he is.
He is home. He is in Vylenor. The worst place in the world.
Nevertheless he feels good for having slept in its rich energy. He stretches. It’s been a long time since he felt the comfort of having a surplus of magical power in his body.
He notices he is in his own bed. He rolls over to find Kerik is lying in the thrall bed on the floor. Did they decide to switch places or was he merely so tired that he climbed unthinking into his own bed to sleep?
