The Innocence of Teacups

As they stood on Freyr’s drive for once Sasha seemed stuck for words so just squeezed him on the shoulder and said, “I hope you achieve what you came here for.”

He’d come here for answers and blood. Assassin instincts kicked in as Sasha rode away to Haycroft Village. The plan in his mind on the way here had been to simply knock on the door and see what Freyr wanted to see him about. Whisperings. He’d a feeling Freyr already knew who he actually was. Even still he put up his mask. Until he knew exact reasons for this meeting he would remain Alexander. Walking up to the front door as himself wouldn’t be very satisfying no matter what reaction he got given. Walking up to the front door at all would be quite a letdown. Instead he crept round the side of the house and ended up finding a window which wasn’t locked and let himself in. At least Freyr had found time to fix up the doors and windows.

What a handsome room. He sat on the windowsill admiring white painted walls with gold borders and a lush cream rug lining the floor. Such a dramatic difference to when he’d last visited as a demon. He swallowed away that thought and slipped off the windowsill and went to seat himself in a chair full of golden cushions. While waiting for Freyr to make an appearance he took some calming deep breaths as though meditating. He’d no idea how he was going to react to seeing the sleaze.

After only a few minutes he got bored of waiting and tapped his hand against the chair arm. His tapping grew gradually louder and louder until the door opened and he sat straight faced as Freyr glared at him.

His initial reaction turned out to be: Game on.

“How dare you sneak into my home?”

“If you rather I didn’t let myself in you should have kept your windows all locked up tight.”

“How long have you been sat there?”

“Only a few minutes.” He leant back in the chair all casual and held out his fists. “So are you going to wrap me on the knuckles for stepping on your toes?”

“Yes that is an issue but isn’t the reason I invited you here today. Are the whisperings true?”

“What whisperings? People say a lot about me.” Nerves were bubbling away threatening to show on the outside.

“Dark magic, do you use it?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s a simple yes or no answer. I need the truth. I’ve heard whisperings that you converse with strange creatures and your carvings aren’t exactly natural.”

Phew it didn’t sound like Freyr had the slightest inclination that he was Eagle. Nerves wobbled away. He gave a tut. “Bringing dark magic to Kazara what a preposterous thing to imply.”

“Well you are a preposterous brat employing prostitutes and showing them off in order to influence people to buy your wares. You have poor tastes Pelevin.”

“They are exotic dancers these days,” he corrected.

“You haven’t answered my question yet. Are you apt in dark magic?”

“Tell me why you need to know first.”

“It’s a personal matter nothing to do with your tacky show if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

A personal matter; wanting to know more he caught hold of a shadow and looked to a charming oak door. It would be a shame to make graffiti but hey it wasn’t his door. Much to Freyr’s disgust he craved: YES IS THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION SLEAZEY GIT.

“Who taught you to do that?”

“Does it matter? Now are you going to tell me what you want help with or shall I jump out the window and rejoin my troupe?”

Freyr swept a hand through his black hair which was no longer host to streaks of grey. Did that mean Freyr had magically changed himself or was he putting up an illusion? “I need help.”

He flexed hands on his knives ready to pounce if Freyr told him to leave. This was ending. He certainly wasn’t here to help him with anything.

“I need to get to Nocta Umbra but don’t know how. I’ve tried every which way you could possibly imagine. I thought you might be able to help me work out how. I wouldn’t ask but I am desperate.”

“For what reason would you possibly want to go to Nocta Umbra?”

Freyr leant against the door frame. “It is strictly a personal matter. All you need to know is it is vital I reach my destination no matter the cost.”

“Why?” he got up from his chair and took short steps over to Freyr not daring to get too close in case he stabbed him prematurely. A quick flick wasn’t enough. “I can’t help you very effectively if I’ve no idea why you want to do something, can I?”

“My plans didn’t go to plan. He wasn’t supposed to leave through a void. It was a disaster.”

A disaster. Oh wow that was rich real rich. He had to control himself not to reveal himself. “Who went through a void?”

“It’d be best if I showed you.”

He followed Freyr out into the hallway and crossed to a lounge where there were books laid out open on the floor, surrounded by rolls upon rolls of parchment. In fact there was no visible floor. “Don’t step on anything,” Freyr all but growled. “That’s three years of work.”

“It looks like three years of madness.”

“Hold your tongue Zotican. You’ve no idea.” Freyr sat down amongst all his books and started scanning through one of them while he hopped round the mess trying not to step on anything. “Some of these books are written in Nocta Umbrian so I’d have to translate for you and see if you can make any sense. Not that I expect you will be able to.”

“Actually I am fluent in Nocta Umbrian,” he said in the Nocta Umbrian tongue.

This gained a long shocked stare from Freyr.

“I am well educated.” He pushed a stack of books off a stool, much to Freyr’s disdain, and took a seat. He sat with hands clasped in his lap then quickly folded his arms knowing the former gesture was too Eagle-like. A book got tossed at his head.

“If you are so well educated you’ll be able to make sense of this. See if you can find anything about opening voids.”

“I thought you were showing me who went through a void. I’ve not agreed to help you yet.”

“Does it matter who? The point is I want him back.”

“Great so we’ve gathered it’s a him. What did you do?”

Freyr ignored him and took to leafing through books with a scowl. He looked thin as though he’d not been eating properly. He might not be as vented up as he seemed seen as he’d managed to reconstruct his house; he was probably having one of his mega mad days. The old him would have made a pot of tea and left it out for the ungrateful bastard then busied himself elsewhere. No one was there to make sure he ate and drank anymore. He smirked glad his ex-master was suffering without him.

“What are you smirking about? I’ve been searching for answers. I bet the answer is in a book I dropped over The Sunfoam. I must have Eagle back.”

“Eagle.” He leant forward on the stool. “In Azure they say he is a tongue-less demon. Is it true?”

“He is demon yes or wasn’t until... You have to help me find him.”

“What did you do?”

“Moonlight it... I exposed him to moonlight . He turned demon. Satisfied?”

Definitely not satisfied far from it. “Let’s say you got this Eagle back then what would you do? I mean demons are wild animals. You couldn’t control one.”

“I don’t know what I’d do. Maybe he still has human characteristics. Doubtful but I need to know. If he’s fully demon then yes I’ve killed him but even so I promised never to leave him. Promised.”

The best way to punish Freyr would be to get up and simply leave. Then again this could be one of his mad days the guy could easily switch to obsessing over something else in a couple of days. Looking at this room a huge part of him doubted it and he stay seated.

“There is a way to Nocta Umbra but unless you’re a spirit or vampyre you’re not getting there because you lack a sixth sense.”

Freyr sat up straight eyes all aglow. “I know magic so can get there if you tell me how.”

“I can’t because only vampyres and spirits know how.”

“Nonsense if a spirit can use a portal then so can I.”

“You can’t. Our magic is like a chicken, they have wings but are incapable of flying, like we can tap into magic but are incapable of opening portals.”

“Shut up. I will find a way.”

“If you say so.” He flicked through the book Freyr had thrown at him. Lignum would like this book; Sophos would blanch at it seen as the pages were coated with dark magic. Only a few days ago Alaric had taken him to Nocta Umbra to visit his two scholar friends at their house. Of course he’d been blind there but Sophos and Lignum were always accommodating and in return he spoke to them in their language. Freyr was staring at him. Did he look like Eagle the way he read through this book? “What?”

“Are you helping me?”

He shrugged. Not helping, thinking up what his next move would be. Part of him was surging to attack head on while another part of him wanted to give Freyr lots of false hope then take it all away, watch him hurt, then show him who he was and slit his throat. Which avenue to take? There he was sitting uncertain of what would best accommodate his thirst for vengeance.

From within the book the mad look in Freyr’s eyes played out on the pages as moonlight blasted into him. Sick sick sick. “Do you think turning into a demon would be painful?”

“What kind of question is that to ask? Are you trying to make me lose concentration? We need to be reading books on spirits. Vampyres will never do seen as they’re extinct. ”

He was sat ages trying to think up what to do next. So long the sun was sinking. Freyr didn’t notice time passing he was too busy looking up spirits, not being able to because his books had no order. When the sun had totally sunk Freyr got up and went inside a cabinet where he took out some candles and a tinderbox.

“Where are you going?”

No answer. It looked as though he would have to find out by tagging along. They went outside and a quiver ran through him. The moons were full. The sensible option would be to go back inside because keeping up his mask would be a strain. He’d kept it up all day so was already becoming trying to keep in place. Going indoors might seem suspicious so he kept following Freyr through the trees, wanting a cloak to cover himself up. Heck there came a tremble. Breathing was key. Just keep calm and breathe in deep not too deep or he might come across as weird.

Walking through these trees was tense enough without adding the moons. Almost the same path they’d walked three years ago; the path to their ruin. When they got to the altar he lingered away but managed to keep up his confidence. Being here was different this time round. All the power belonged to him.

“Whenever the moons are full I light candles for Eagle.” Freyr arranged his candles on the altar.

Deep calm breaths. “That’s a sacrificial altar.”

“Obviously.”

“A wicked act happened here. I can feel a weight in the air.” Wanting to come across as curious he forced himself to step over to the altar where candles danced away. “A memorial?” he asked.

“No. I live in hope Eagle might see them and come home.”

“I doubt anyone in Nocta Umbra could see these candles.” He placed a hand against the altar and a round of shivers surged through his body. His real face was paling. His insides clenched as he fought to keep his mask in place.

“Deep down I know that of course I do. However if you don’t know if someone is completely dead you can give yourself hope.”

“Fool yourself you mean. Does lighting some measly candles make you feel better about yourself?” He was battling not to raise his voice. “From what you’ve told me I gather you turned someone demon.” His hands curled round his knives. Definitely time he couldn’t drag this out any longer. He was all set to take the plunge when the sleaze opened his mouth.

“He’s gone but keeps haunting me.” Freyr smacked his own head. “Don’t you think I’ve tried to get on with my life? But always come back here looking for answers which is why I demand you help me by getting me to Nocta Umbra so I can have closure.”

As his mask shimmered he turned his back on Freyr as a bat flew across the altar. His grip pulsed on his knives but he couldn’t lift them. “Ever thought you deserve to be haunted?” He strode into the trees away from the altar with its pointless candles and crazed idiot. His mask completely shimmered away.

He ran right over to the house where Alaric was stood on the porch waiting for him. “Why can’t I do it?” He looked into those deep knowledgeable eyes of the vampyre prince. Urrh he wanted to throw his blades at something. Freyr. So why was it so hard? “I’m sinning.”

Alaric held onto his shoulders as trembles took over. “No you’ve been using magic too long and the moons are full. Come along inside and calm yourself down.”

That sounded like a grand idea. He went with Alaric into Valaire Manor and they occupied the room he’d first sat in that afternoon. He settled into the chair full of cushions as Alaric produced a bottle of red wine from within a satchel along with a couple of goblets too.

“I thought you could use a drink.” Alaric poured out the wine and handed him a goblet. “Come tell me what makes getting your revenge so difficult.”

“Him, playing the grieving party with his obnoxious candles.” As he took a mouthful of wine the trembles came to a stutter then stopped. “He deserves to die.”

“So he does however perhaps that isn’t the kind of revenge you really want.”

“Then what ought I to do?”

“Forget the route you planned, close your eyes and seek the answer from within. You don’t have to kill him to make sure you get what you need.”

He closed his eyes. Death was final. Their invisible web connected them. Something’s you couldn’t plan. This was time for personal reflection. He sipped more wine. If he killed former master that would make him a killer; back to being the child groomed by a dodgy merchant. A more attractive option would be to speak with Freyr and see where they ended up. Let his future thoughts decide their fate.

As they finished their wine they listened to Freyr banging about in the opposite room, huffing away to himself. Not that Freyr stayed in his room full of dark magic books. He came and flung open their door which meant Alaric had to make a dash into the shadows, and he gave a blink and put his mask in place.

“Is this a joke to you Zotican?” snarled Freyr on sighting his wine goblet and a half empty bottle. “My apprentice is lost in Nocta Umbra and all you can do is sit there all smug drinking wine. You are supposed to be helping.”

“Your apprentice is gone because you turned him demon. Why in the world should I help you?”

“You shouldn’t but ought to help Eagle.” Freyr flung himself into a vacant chair and his voice lowered in tone. “He was an intelligent youth alas lacked direction, needed telling what to do; a loyal apprentice save for the odd outburst. I expect that’s teenagers for you. I tried not to get attached to him I really did.” Freyr swept a hand though his hair. “His kindness wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to have gotten attached.”

“Why go through with your plans if you cared about him?”

“Because I fear I suffer from insanity. My decision was wrong and I regretted exposing him to those moons almost instantly”

“He’s gone. You have to let him go.”

“I can’t!” bellowed Freyr and went storming off into the opposite room. He followed after him and watched from the doorway at books and scrolls getting kicked about. Watching Freyr freaking out on his account started to make guilt seep into his mind but he willed it away. There was nothing for him to be sorry about.

“You’re useless.” Zoom a book came whooshing towards his chest, he side stepped it. “I will bring you down. Get my customers back just you watch you showy wretch.”

“Let him go.” Might be best all around leaving Freyr to get on with life by himself. The guy was obviously feeling the guilt.

“No. He’s the only family I have left so won’t let him go even if he is demon.”

All his life he’d been waiting to hear this admittance. “Maybe you should have thought about what you just said when you were coaxing him onto your altar.”

Needing some space he went to find the kitchen where he ended up brewing up some tea to waste time before the hard part came. You couldn’t choose your family after all. He went searching through cupboards for Freyr’s favourite tea set while the water boiled over the fire.

Water all boiled he added tea leaves then held the tray tight. On with whatever this was. His emotions were all mixing together. How could he feel betrayed, angry and guilty all at once? “Don’t sin,” he mustered to himself as he went back to Freyr who was sat amongst his books with his head in his hands.

His mask was still up however he let his true expressions come through. “You look as though you could do with a drink to calm yourself down.” He uncovered the table by pushing books to the floor then managed to place the tray on it. “Ever thought your apprentice might have been capable of oh I don’t know having a mind of his own?” He poured tea into two cups although longed for the wine left in the other room.

“In ways of course,” murmured Freyr, “but not at finding his own way. I instructed that lad made sure he knew how to defend himself and brought him up I suppose.”

“Then betrayed him. How do you think he’d feel if he still possessed a human mindset?”

“That’s a stupid question then of course Zoticans are always asking the obvious. He’d be pissed at me.”

“How about murderous? If I were him I’d want to stick you.” He balanced a magically enhanced knife on his palm. “I’d constantly be looking above me for soaring demons.” He tossed his knife into the air and caught it, standing in attack mode. Blood pumped hard.

“Stop showing off.”

“How do you think he felt when you forced him onto your altar?”

“He was panicked. These questions aren’t helping us find Eagle.”

“Yes I expect he was panicked. How about humiliated? Getting turned into a great ugly monster how would that feel?”

“He wouldn’t know. His mind probably got taken over so was spared those emotions.”

With a sigh he let the chink disappear from his mask’s nose. “I reckon he never felt so embarrassed and upset.” As he watched Freyr pacing he slowly let his tanned skin show through. “If only you’d asked.” How a smile could be sad he did not know but was giving such a smile.

“Asked what?” snapped Freyr.

“Asked for help ridding your house of demons. There might have been another way.”

“Do you think I’d not tried to think of an alternate way? On the days leading up to the moon alignment I was trying to come up with a new option; there wasn’t one.”

His eyes faded to their normal dark brown and hair was itself again too. No more mask. “So you thought you’d go through with it anyway. Thought to ruin with Eagle he’ll be happy chained up in your woods as a demon thinking kill kill kill blood blood blood.”

Freyr kept pacing, trampling through scrolls, tearing them. “I didn’t think past changing him.” It looked as though Freyr was on the verge of literally yanking his hair out. “I want him out of my head! Leave leave leave. Why won’t his shriek get out of my head?”

He clapped. “Congratulations you’ve found your conscience.”

Freyr grabbed hold of the heaviest book to hand and swept back his arm. As he was taking aim he froze and stared. “What is this dark magic?”

“I pleaded with you to let me up,” he said in a sharp tone, “pleaded.”

Bang, Freyr dropped his book and ran at him. “Eagle! Thank fuck you’re here. Alive. Human.”

“Get off! I never said you could touch me.” He held a knife up against Freyr’s side and jabbed the hilt of its twin into his temple which caused Freyr to stumble into the table, upsetting the tea tray. All for show he imitated the smirk he’d been taught for when an opponent got tricky. The death smirk.

Trying to gather a cool composure Freyr actually smiled at him. “Are you alright? I’ve been fretting about you.”

“Someone once told me to never let my conscience get the better of me.” Shadow flowed into him then he released it, shaking the whole room. Parchment shivered and tea set rattled.

“What have you done to yourself?”

“Realised you’re a betraying bastard and decided to do what I wanted from now on.”

“This isn’t you.”

“Yes Freyr, no Freyr, sorry Freyr, I’ll sweep the floors Freyr, kill a few more people for you Freyr, I’m so grateful you took me in master.” The room shook as though furious. “That foolish apprentice is gone. Deep inside I knew I never should have trusted you but ignored my instincts because I was besotted with gratitude because you took me in out the kindness of your heart. Ha more like through the pig headedness of your fat head.” Did that make any sense? Who cared?

“Okay I get it you’re angry at me. Please don’t use so much magic you’ll combust or something.”

A smack later his hilt whacked into Freyr’s chest making him fall over. “Why?”

“All this dark magic has distorted your soul.”

“By chaining me to that altar you may as well have ripped out my soul and hung it out for the crows to peck at that’s what it felt like; still feels like. If my soul is distorted the fault rests with you.” He crouched down and held a blade against Freyr’s throat.

“I’m sorry I should never... I fear I’m mad. I didn’t want to hurt you but couldn’t help myself. It was the plan. I have to see a plan through to the end. I’m a stark raving lunatic. I must be to hurt you.”

Look at him with those regretful eyes. He sighed.

“Kill me if you like. I deserve death. As long as I know you’re alright nothing else matters.”

Shaking his head he slid away Sorry and placed it on top of a book. Defence remained in his left hand just in case Freyr tried to pull some stunt which he doubted would happen however could never put his full trust in Freyr ever again.

Freyr kept staring at him. “I didn’t cause you any permanent damage did I?”

“I get shudders when outside if the moons are full, and the odd nightmare.”

“Is that why you ran inside earlier?”

“Yeah it was putting strains on my illusion.” This was too bizarre having what seemed like a regular conversation. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk to you when I came here to get revenge.”

Freyr picked up Sorry and held the tip against his heart. “All you would have to do is push. Simple.”

The offer wasn’t even tempting anymore. He concentrated on the mess in the room rather than Freyr. Mad indeed. There was probably a whole library piled up on the floor. What to do next? Especially when there was no forgiveness in his heart. Should you forgive and never forget, or forget and never forgive? Or were forgetting and forgiving both the same really seen as if you did one then the other must follow?

Long fingers tapped at his shoulder and a hand held a goblet out to him. His best friend always provided superlative answers. He gave a smile of thanks on taking the wine from Alaric.

“I do believe Freyr and my father are quite similar. Could we arrange a play date for them please?”

Trust Alaric to lighten the mood. He laughed then tilted wine into his mouth. “I’m afraid Freyr doesn’t play nice with others.”

Alaric grinned. “Neither does father.” As Freyr looked over at them that grin turned most sinister.

Freyr shot to his feet clutching at Sorry as Alaric strode over to him.

“Bright lights blind me. Eagle is the only bright light my eyes may see. If you try snubbing him out I will drain you in half a heartbeat.”

“Eagle, who is this?”

“That’s my good friend Prince Alaric. Without him I would still be flying round in Nocta Umbra.”

“This creature turned you back?”

“No I finished what you started. Eagle’s mind was never demon and he managed to will himself to transform back to his true self, that is after he cleansed your beastly house of its unwanted inhabitants.”

Freyr actually had the gall to shove past Alaric’s looming figure and clambered over books to stand with him. “You cleared my home even after...”

“Cleansing your house was my sole purpose in life. Why throw away fourteen years of scheming, manipulating, and grooming?” He rubbed at his shoulder. “I was nothing to you save a body to use.”

“That’s not true.”

“I thought on you as a father figure and all that time you were using me.” Here was the gritty truth which overwhelmed his whole being.

Seeing he was looking wobbly Freyr pushed books from a chair. “Here take a seat. I can fix this.”

“That’s just it Freyr you can’t. You ruined us as soon as you refused to let me up.”

“Let me try. I will do whatever you wish”

Lost for words all he could do was shake his head. There went Freyr smiling away as though nothing had ever happened. Crazy crazy crazy.

“I know what will cheer you up. There’s something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“A surprise.”

“I’m too wary of your surprises to come see.”

“Oh no this one is pleasant. It’s upstairs.”

Freyr swept off upstairs while Alaric inspected a book, snickering at what was written on the pages. Cautious and armed he followed Freyr upstairs. Whatever was upstairs would never make up for being deceived so cruelly but having a look must be a better option than mulling things over in a dilapidated lounge.

The stairs were all broken. He stepped over cracks and holes then continued a long a hallway which was patched up in places. The manor was a work in progress not as ruined as when demons dwelt here but still ruined in lots of places.

“I was doing up the whole house then ran out of funds because Fredrick and others were replacing me with you,” said Freyr from beside huge double doors. “Luckily I started on this room. I never stopped working until it was finished; even got rid of all the cobwebs myself. Wait here one moment. I want to make sure it is perfect.”

While Freyr slipped into this room he was harking on about, he stood still in a daze. Nothing could ever be perfect. They were over. Maybe he ought to take off downstairs and... oh great there was a beckoning finger. Creepy. Then Freyr pulled the doors fully open so he was looking into a charming bedroom with a fire blazing away in the fireplace. There was a four poster bed hung with ocean blue drapes. Freyr stepped aside, urging him to go inside. He took cautious steps into the room.

On a round table a book caught his eye. He ran a hand along the front cover. “My painting book.” There was a pot of beads and strands of wire on the table too.

“Yes where it belongs in your room.”

He shook his head and picked up a letter. “What’s this?”

“Read it if you wish.”

When my death comes to pass I Lord Freyr Valaire leave my house, land, title, and any other assets to Eagle Valaire.

“Your will seriously?”

“I want to do right by you. You asked if you would get a mention in my will and the answer is certainly. You’re the sole inheritor.”

Anger surged through his veins. “I’m not Eagle Valaire.” He threw the will into the fire.

“Not to worry I can rewrite it as Alexander Pelevin if you rather.”

“I have my own house in Zoticas. Why would I want this derelict building?”

“You can have it now if you like.”

“You’re not listening, you never listen. I don’t need you or your house. You chose your house over me so enjoy it. We are over, you ruined us ,we can never be repaired. I will not be bought off.”

Freyr skulked off out the room, leaving him to bump down on the bed. The nerve trying to buy him. Give him one moment to collect his thoughts then he was out of the mad world of Freyr Valaire, through the door, to normality.

One moment was up. He left the bedroom. His pupils expanded on seeing Freyr balancing on the banister. If he were to jump it would be a long drop to the ground floor. He looked away and went along the landing towards the stairs. When his foot reached the second step he couldn’t move any further, ended up sat on the stairs.

“Why do you have to make everything about yourself all the time?” he grumbled. “I came here to show you I’m not as pathetic as you thought and I get you debating wherever to throw yourself off a banister.”

Freyr leant slightly forwards as though he really was going to leap. This was ridiculous. He ran over to Freyr, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back. The sleaze was shaking. No not a sleaze, his disturbed former master. “Even if you did yourself in I still wouldn’t take this house so don’t bother.”

“What do you want?” rasped Freyr. “You won’t kill me, accept any inheritance, or allow me to end myself. Do you wish me to live with the guilt is that it? Because I don’t think I can.”

Darkness give him courage to put aside his bitterness. He pushed Freyr towards the wall. “Teacups.”

“What?”

“I want teacups and cherry blossom trees. Our good days. I hate what you did to me but don’t hate you at least not all of you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to forgive you but can’t.” They were in a mess. “What are we going to do?” He watched Freyr eying up the banister. “Perhaps I could get along with the sane part of you if you can drag him from the depths of your soul.”

“What is the sane part?” mustered Freyr. “I am not sure I have one.”

He smiled. “Admitting you have a problem is your starting point. What a sane thing to say.”

Freyr took a deep breath and went downstairs. “Do not take pity on me Alexander. You have no reason to stick around.”

“My name has always been Eagle. Alexander is a stage name.” He remained on the landing with his arms crossed on top the banister. “And I find I must stick around for a little while to make certain you don’t do anything stupid.” Wood cracked behind him as he carved an eagle onto his bedroom door.

“You scare me.” Freyr watched as his carving formed. “You shouldn’t be delving into dark magic.”

He clapped his hands. “I only ever clap my own tune these days. There is nothing sinister in darkness. Prince Alaric is un-dead proof of that.”

“No you really shouldn’t. Druids deep within the Violet Mountains mess around with dark magic all the time.”

“What have mountain druids got to do with me using magic?”

“Everything,” Freyr said on disappearing down a corridor.