Capítulo 14: A Change of Clothes and a Visitor (2/2)
As Rowan was preparing a cup of tea before tending to the souls that were his oath-bound duty, the back of his neck prickled. The sensation, which happened only rarely but was unmistakable, meant he had a visitor attempting to cross the bridge from the real world to the secluded magic of his garden. The bridge, like his vision, was part of the liminal, that space between the worlds where Order and Disorder brushed against each other. The magic was potent, and while it would not be impossible for a member of the Order to dip into that gray realm, they would never dream of doing so.
The shadows were contaminated, just like Rowan.
Rowan waved his hand as he crossed the bridge, lowering the veil between one side and the other. One of the benefits of his magic being part of the fabric of the liminal was that he could see through the veil, but the person on the other side could not.
Alaric stood with his horse on the far side of the bridge, arms folded across his chest and the reins gripped in one fist. Rowan brought the veil down abruptly, so that from Alaric's perspective, he would have appeared out of thin air directly in front of him. Alaric scowled, but not before a look of surprise crossed his face.
"Brother," Rowan said cheerfully. "I don't think I've ever been lucky enough for you to visit. Don't tell me you're worried about my well-being."
"Of course not. Ciprian sent me to see if you've had luck with the souls."
Rowan maintained his cheerful tone when he responded. "You know my magic isn't up to luck. Why didn't he just ask himself?"
By ask, Rowan meant that Ciprian could have communicated in his usual way, through an energetically charged thought that would needle its way into Rowan's awareness.
"In light of what happened, the Master is going to cease any magic that toes the gray line, and so must the rest of the members. It's been decreed."
"So here you are, in the flesh. This truly is my lucky week." Rowan rubbed at the smudge of dirt left on his shirt by the jewel that was once a soul. "The souls are fine. Sprouted yesterday morning."
"Master Ciprian will be pleased."
Rowan nodded. "Okay, then. Thanks for visiting."
Alaric sighed. A look of pure exhaustion passed over his face. "I've been sent to see how they are growing. That means I need to look at them."
"You want to visit my garden?"
"No."
"Don't take him so literally. I'm sure he didn't mean you had to look at them with your own eyes." Rowan preferred to keep people out. Hence the near impenetrable magic of the bridge. The only one who could cross by force was Ciprian, though looking at Alaric with his straight back and his I'm-destined-for-greatness aura, he could probably cross over as well if he put his mind to it. His power had to be close to Ciprian's level, or he wouldn't be viewed as Ciprian's successor.
"What…do you think I'm lying?" Rowan said.
"What's the big deal? Maybe Ciprian didn't mean for me to see them for myself, but after the other night…I know you took some damage. I just—"
There was no big deal, unless you counted the young man he'd grown from a seed who was now out cold in his bed. "So you're worried, and you don't have faith in my abilities."
"Stop being ridiculous and just show me. You have been alone in there for how long? I simply want to see your living conditions with my own eyes." Alaric looked away.
Now it was Rowan's turn to sigh. He started back across the bridge, motioning for Alaric to follow. When they were across, Rowan waved his hand and raised the veil once more. "Tell me the truth. Master Ciprian didn't send you at all."
Alaric ignored him, walking in silence as Rowan led him to the garden. They left the horse to nibble on some grass as Rowan showed him the newly sprouted souls.
"That thing better not trample my flowers." Rowan glanced sideways at the chestnut stallion. Really. Why did anyone need to ride a horse that large? "Here they are, six souls. Well-tended, as promised."
Alaric stood the entire time with his arms pressed against his side as if he was afraid the very air of Rowan's home would rub off on him and make him impure. Combined with his typically rod-straight back, the effect was to make man appear to be carved out of granite. "How long until they are ready?"
Rowan shrugged. "Hard to say. A few months, maybe more. What does it matter? Even if they were ready tomorrow, it would be at least 15 years before they will be of any real use to the Order." It's not like they could be transplanted into a full-grown man, ready to do the Order's bidding. His thoughts drifted to the young man inside.
"Ciprian said he wanted them as soon as possible. I can only assume he has a plan," Alaric said.
"He always does."
Rowan walked him back through the garden, past the black pond and as far from the hut as possible. He didn't want Alaric to get any ideas about going inside. Alaric collected his horse, and the two men headed back to the bridge.
Alaric cleared his throat. "About what you saw the other day…"
On a whim, Rowan reached up to pat the horse's shoulder. It swiveled its head and eyed his fingers as if they were carrots. "I didn't see anything."
"It was a mistake. She was upset."
"Okay."
"There's nothing more to it."
"I understand." The sound of their boots on the wood planks of the bridge mingled with the slow clatter of the horse's hooves. "Though if I'd seen her face—which I didn't—I'd venture to guess that she thinks there is something more to it. And so do you."
Alaric stopped and turned to face Rowan on the far side of the bridge. "I have no right to ask this…but please…Ciprian can't know."
Rowan laughed. "Well, that's obvious. Don't worry about me, and learn to lock your doors."
"I think you're hiding something," Alaric said abruptly.
Rowan met his gaze. "I think you have your own problems to worry about."
Alaric opened his mouth to say something else but was cut short by a boy crashing through the trees at an angle to the main path. He almost ran straight into them, but Alaric caught him and held him steady. The boy's eyes darted between the two men to settle on Rowan.
"Master Caretaker. I can't believe I found you. I've been trying all morning to cross this bridge, but I couldn't." He broke free of Alaric's grip and stood before Rowan. "Every time I try to find another way in, I end up back here."
Rowan frowned. He'd been so distracted with the man in his bed, he hadn't felt the boy's presence at all. Either that or Alaric's presence was excessively demanding.
"Master Caretaker? What's going on here?" Alaric's brown eyes flashed at Rowan.
Rowan shook his head, just as confused as Alaric was.
"Please, come with me. I'm from the village that you visited the other day. We need your help. Mara said to find you, and you wouldn't deny us."
Rowan squatted in front of the boy. "What's wrong?"
"There's a monster in the graveyard. It's all black with no body. It told us to bring it what it wanted, or it would unravel us all." The boy swallowed, his eyes growing wide.
"What does it want?" Alaric said.
All the heat drained from Rowan's body when the boy answered.
"It said it wanted the Prince of Illusions."
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
LivChanin
LivChanin Wait...was that concern coming from Alaric? I will confess to you right now and get it out of the way. I have a soft spot for him, even when he is extra grumpy and difficult. Phew. I'm glad that's out in the open. And Prince of Illusions? Who could that possibly be?
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