Chapter 4

Avern Mordan watched as Mary headed off in the direction of her inn, wondering at her lack of resistance on the use of her inn. He turned back to Lloyd Marks, who's scowl suggested he was anything but pleased, but he gave Avern a nod and walked off with a wave of his hand, leaving Avern with a strong mind to send more people to Mary's inn than Lloyd's once The Surf and Sleep was full. Not that the sailors would mind being at Mary's, he knew, but the local residents might feel it was less appropriate to put them there intentionally. Certain members of the community disliked Mary and her inn more than others, and they tended to be those who were more vocal as well. His own views on Mary's business were skewed since an encounter of his own, but his gut feeling had always been that such things weren't appropriate in smaller towns. A larger city would be expected to turn a blind eye for such things happening in the back corners of its limits, but this town didn't get enough traffic to warrant it. He did, however, have to admit that there were more ships that chose to stop here over other towns up and down the coastline, because of Mary and the young women in her employ. It occurred to him that Lynna had likely been to visit the inn today already, and he suddenly had a moment of regret for giving her the task he had.

He headed inside the Surf and Sleep, his mind turning the events of the morning over and over in his head, when he saw Lynna talking to Agmar in one corner of the dining hall. He had hoped to limit her association with the man, as he had suspicions he'd not yet voiced to anyone, about the man's capabilities. Agmar had an air of confidence about him that bordered on arrogance, and it reminded Avern all too well of the way his wife had acted when he'd first met her. He'd worked reasonably hard to keep Lynna safe from the fate his wife, Lydia, had ultimately suffered only two weeks after giving birth to their daughter, making sure she learned as a child to keep anything she had learned to do a secret. No one in this town knew anything more than that her mother had died not long after Lynna was born. None knew that it hadn't been childbirth that had taken her. He only hoped that Lynna had stopped using her abilities altogether. The people of this town were no less superstitious and afraid of magicks than the last.

Avern was, however, very proud of how Lynna seemed to be handling herself today. He'd often worried whether it was appropriate for her to hear as much of the weekly meetings as she usually did, and he would have rather spared her from knowing as much as he did today. The girl had a strong will, like her mother had had, but fortunately she seemed to keep herself grounded instead of acting quite as impulsively. Although that had been part of the attraction Avern had seen in Lydia, it was also what ultimately had given her away to the townsfolk. His position as mayor of this town had helped him keep a lid on anything that might have slipped out about Lynna, but he'd rarely had to worry himself with it. She was a smart girl if nothing else, but he still found himself heading over to cut in on her conversation with this stranger. He didn't need him putting any ideas into her head.

Whatever it was they were talking about, they stopped before he could get close enough to hear. Her back straightened just a little, and that told Avern all he needed to know. She had felt him (or maybe just someone) coming closer. She had always been hard to surprise.

"Mayor Mordan," Agmar said, and Lynna turned. Lynna looked worried, and Avern did not like the expression on her face. He had already asked her to do something harder than a girl her age was supposed to have to do. She's a woman now, Avern, he reminded himself.

"Agmar, could I have a word with you?" Avern asked. "Lynna, would you excuse us?"

She looked to Agmar before saying anything, and Avern focused on keeping his face blank. "I'll go get some more," she said finally. Avern watched her walk out of the room, one hand fidgeting with the waistline of her skirt the way she sometimes did when she had to do something she did not like, or when she thought she was about to get into trouble. He could not help but wonder which it was.

Agmar tipped his head slightly, an expression of curiosity. They were already at the far end of the room from everyone else, but Avern still felt like they should step farther away.

"Look...Agmar...," he said quietly, still feeling reluctant to address the stranger by just his first name. "With everything going on, I need as few surprises as possible. You probably know how small towns are. People here can be a bit superstitious."

"What are you asking, Avern Mordan?" Agmar asked pointedly.

"Seeing as how you've only given us one name to work with, you might as well call me Avern from now on, Agmar." He stalled, looking around at the others in the room still. "And let's move this to somewhere more private before I continue?"

He saw Agmar nod silently, and moved out into the hallway heading further into the inn where he knew Allek Gannen had a small library that was likely to be empty at the moment. It was really only four shelves worth of books, collected over the years by Allek's father, but there were a couple of large overstuffed chairs set in front of a fireplace that was currently unlit. Avern closed the door behind them before sinking gratefully into one of the chairs. He gestured at the other, but Agmar just shook his head and remained standing.

"What is it you need to speak with me about, Avern?"

Avern had to marvel at the fact that it still seemed as if Agmar was addressing him formally, despite his use of the mayor's first name. He cleared his throat, taking a moment to collect his thoughts more cohesively.

"This town is no less superstitious than any other you may have visited. Outsiders often bring certain...mannerisms, cultures, and other 'ways' with them that are not easily... accepted here." He found himself picking at small pieces of lint that had caught onto the fabric of his pants. Realizing it was not much different from Lynna's fidgeting with her apron, he forced his hands into stillness, hoping Agmar hadn't noticed, although the man was giving him a look that gave no indication of what he was thinking in any way. Avern took a breath before continuing. "Most of the townsfolk, including myself, are generally concerned about how exposure to such 'ways' might effect the younger and more impressionable members of the community."

"Like Lynna?"

"Um, yes. Like Lynna, for example." It concerned Avern even more that the man immediately pinpointed Lynna, despite the fact that it was exactly the topic Avern wanted to be clear on.

"Lynna is a woman in her own right. I am sure she can make her own decisions on what she finds acceptable and what she does not." Agmar said.

"Lynna is only a year past marriable age, and still young enough to be impressionable. I am merely trying to protect her chances of finding a good husband, something that would be marred if she were to suddenly reveal she had an... affinity for strange customs from other lands, so to speak." Avern's eyes narrowed as he looked the man dead on, a chill racing up and down his spine as his stomach became that much more a stone inside him, plummeting downward in dread. He knows already. Agmar's face was still blank, as if the man had no emotion.

"Perhaps you should let me know just which of my 'ways' I should refrain from exposing your daughter to then, so that I do not mistakenly corrupt her while I busy myself with trying to save the people of this town." Despite his unassuming gaze, Agmar's voice had adopted a bitter and icy tone. Avern took another steadying breath before continuing.

"Of all the people of this town, only Lynna and I know what really happen to her mother, only two weeks after Lynna was born. It was not an easy birth for her, but it wasn't childbirth that killed her. It was what she ended up revealing about herself in her efforts to save both Lynna and herself from the complications they encountered during the labor. That she had certain 'abilities' that many people see as dangerous and evil..."

"Magic." Agmar cut him off abruptly with the one word statement. Avern swallowed hard, not having wanted the word to actually be said aloud. "Was she trained or merely one who discovered on her own?"

"Trained." He forced the admittance, the rock in his stomach splitting in two and dancing angrily about. His sudden fear for his daughter was far overshadowing his fear of the evil that was coming at this point. Agmar knew about Lynna already. He was sure of it now. What is he planning? he worried silently.

"So I take it there is no one here trained?"

"No," Avern said with a bit of a chuckle, "the last wizard through here couldn't even get an inn room...."

"Then the good news is that so far I do not feel any indications of others at additional risk--"

"What additional risk," Avern broke in, "isn't there enough going on already?"

"I wish I could say that there was, Avern. Your duties as mayor mean you have to hear the bad news that relates to your town. Your duties as a father make things more...personal."

"What are you saying?" Avern asked, glaring at the stranger who knew too much more than he said. Agmar's expression did not change.

"You know better than to stand in an open field during a thunderstorm, correct?" Agmar asked lightly.

"Of course. Lightning hits the tallest thing around."

"Yes. It takes the shortest, easiest path to the ground. What is coming is going to bring collossal amounts of magical energy. And like that lightning, it will flow through the easiest paths it can find." Avern started to interrupt, and Agmar raised a hand the way a schoolmaster might.

"Tomorrow or the next day this town is going to know that your daughter has magical gifts. She is not spectacularly strong, but with such a surplus of power in the air she will not be able to control it, to not use it. I can dampen some of that, and maybe teach her enough basics to avoid the worst. But believe me, it will be obvious."

"Worst?" Avern asked, having some trouble speaking through the lump in his throat. Avoid the worst? What does that mean? He found himself asking again, "worst?"

"Have you ever had your foot fall asleep Avern?" Avern nodded silently, trying to ascertain where Agmar was going with this. "Then you know that if you try to walk on a sleeping foot you risk injury. You might break a bone or pull a muscle, so instead you massage the foot and bring it gently to a point where it may be safely walked upon. Such is the approach that is usually taken with training in the magical arts."

"One usually learns gradually to use their abilities, learning to stretch out those muscles first. Those who come into their abilities suddenly and without any warning tend to go mad or even die. Now, Lynna has tested at her abilities some small amount on her own, but she is also about to suddenly come into contact with more power than she ever imagined having access to. And, that power is driven by an ancient, enraged evil. Of all of the townsfolk here, she has the potential to be the most dangerous. Or, with my help and guidance, she stands the possibility of being the most valuable and can possibly help me save more from suffering during this." Agmar sat down suddenly, and Avern realized he already looked weary as he leaned back into the chair.

"There is also a possibility, although I assure you I will do my best to prevent it, that the power itself could kill her, much like lightening might, just searing through her in a slightly different manner. Every little bit of instruction I can give her, however, will make this less likely. Control is a very important part of wizardry and the magics. I, myself, will have a difficult enough time keeping the additional surge of power leashed, and it is likely people will realize at that point that I am a wizard. But control is something I am inherently accustomed to practicing, and I know I pose no danger here. You might say I know how to ground myself against the lightning. But even if I began teaching Lynna this very moment and ignored all the other things that need to be done here to minimize the potential damage, I would not be able to teach her enough to shield her completely. This is not going to be easy on her."

Avern put his head in his hands. He could feel himself shaking, and very near breaking down as the last memory of his wife repeated itself over and over in his head. He'd never told Lynna the exact details. He had nightmares enough as it was. They'd been respected members of the community, or so he'd thought, until Lydia had healed herself and their daughter in full view of the midwife. The town had plotted quietly, for Avern hadn't seen it coming. He'd assured his wife that they had friends who'd be understanding, and stand with them against the especially superstitious ones. He still didn't know how many of those friends had been involved in stoning her to death. He couldn't imagine the evil that was coming could be any worse than him finding her broken body, skull smashed, lying in the bloodstained dirt road. He'd fled the town that same day, taking only enough time to bury his wife and grab the items he needed to care for his daughter before bundling her up and riding as fast as his horse could safely carry them from that town.

"They'll kill her." His voice choked on the words, and he found he couldn't lift his head from his hands. He was frozen in fear.

"I will not allow that." Avern felt the man's hand suddenly on his shoulder, and startled. He looked up, not having heard Agmar rise from the other chair.

"My wife..." he trailed off, not knowing how to say all the things he suddenly felt he ought to explain. Agmar nodded slowly, as if he already knew. Avern wondered if the man could see inside his mind.

"There is a difference between the way a man uses magic and how a woman does. I have different means available to me than your wife did. I also find it likely that she was unwilling to raise her hand against her townsfolk, and reveal the extent of her abilities. I, however, have no aspirations of building a home here. In the end, I will keep them from hurting her if need be. Although you may want to be ready to leave town when I do in case they are unwilling to accept her after this is over."

"Have you told Lynna any of this yet?"

"I have only inquired as to what she has learned so far, but she was unwilling to discuss the subject."

"I'll talk to her," Avern said eventually. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You will think of what to say. Parents always do."

"What exactly are you capable of, Agmar," he asked. He had never been the best at hiding what he was thinking, and while his thoughts had probably been easy to guess, he was suddenly reminded that he did not know the limits to what the wizard could and could not do.

"That is a conversation for another time."

"But shouldn't I know? With what's going on, the more I know the better, right?"

"In general, yes," Agmar replied. "But it is not that simple. The time to explain it needs to be spent in other ways right now. One piece of good news is that I do not think there are others than Lynna in this particular danger right now."

"Ah, good news. Yes--of course. I'll go talk to Lynna."

"She is currently bringing another of the known pregnant women back to the inn. Perhaps you should take a few moments to decide upon your words before she returns. I could send her here to you when she arrives. It would provide you both more privacy. I have had her make a list of the other women she knows are pregnant, and can just as easily have Elsa Gretch attend to bringing the rest."

"Do you always get what you want, Agmar?" Avern was realizing that he seemed to be in exactly the position Agmar wanted him, for the second time today, despite the fact that this time he had been the one to initiate the conversation. He saw a slightly amused smile cross the man's face briefly.

"No, Avern. Not always. But I do try my best when the stakes are high and I know what needs to be done. Although I will admit that I cannot predict everything that will occur here. I will, however, do everything I possibly can to make the outcome a favorable one."

Avern nodded slowly, his mind whirling with worry. "I'd better wait for her out there, Agmar. I can't be seen as hiding off in some room right now. I need to be visible to the townsfolk as much as possible. Hopefully it will give them some reassurance." He took a deep breath as he stood up. "I'll bring her back here when she arrives though."

Agmar nodded and turned to the door, pausing a moment before turning the handle and opening it. Avern noticed his shoulders rise, as if he was taking a breath and steeling himself. Avern followed the man out into the hall and back to the dining room, wishing he could keep his own worries off of his face as well as Agmar seemed to.

In the dining hall he saw that the young woman, Emilee, was breathing heavily and clutching at her husband Josh's hand tightly as she lay covered in blankets on a mattress. One of Mary's girls, Aleena, sat on a nearby mattress, running her hand in circles over her swollen belly as she sipped at a cup of something. Avern had to assume that it was bitter, by the face she made after each sip, as if it was an effort to drink it down. Margaret Gretch came striding up to him, ignoring Agmar completely as he headed over to Emilee first.

"You shouldn't be in here mayor." she said bluntly. "It's going to get crowded enough as it is, and you are neither an expectant mother nor expectant father, so you'll need to take yourself elsewhere."

"Of course, Margaret. I just thought I'd see how people are holding up. Including yourself." He could see worry etched into her face, and wondered how much Agmar had told her.

"I'm fine, Avern. Thank you for asking. The others we will know about in time. Now shoo!" She practically pushed him back out into the hall and he found himself chuckling as he nodded and backed out the door.

"Yes, Margaret. I'm going, I'm going." She gave him a brisk nod and a smile and headed back into the dining hall again. He turned and moved outside, onto the porch, where he evicted a fat tabby cat off of the one chair available - a rickety rocking chair that he hoped would hold under his weight. He eased himself into it slowly, and settled back to think as he waited for his daughter to arrive.

It wasn't a long wait before he saw her coming down the road, with Captain Syred Allder's daughter, Myrah in tow. The two seemed to be chatting merrily about something, although he could see Lynna fidgeting with the edge of her apron again, despite the smile on her face. With the late morning sun in her hair, he was reminded briefly how much she resembled her mother in appearance, although she was taller like him.

He smiled thinly at Myrah as the two walked past him. Letting them walk past without saying something took effort. Avern waited on the porch, planning to stop Lynna on her way back out. He looked out at the town--his town--while he waited.

The ground sloped towards the piers, and the view from here was rooftops to the sea. Some were slate, some had wooden shingles, and some on the edges of town were thatch. When he had first come here they had almost all been thatch. One could appreciate thatch in the winter, but there had been that fire...six years ago?

There had been the storms the year after that. Four boats lost in one day. Sixteen men leaving sixteen widows. Plague had come two winters after that, but the past two years had been easy. Maybe it's just time again. He sighed, and the chair creaked.

The wind was utterly still. Laundry strung out over an alley hung lifeless. One dark bird circled lazily in the distance. He could not tell what it was, but it looked dark.

He was getting older. He wondered if perhaps he was too old to make a new start somewhere else again. The door squeaked open behind him. Lynna. He gently pushed up to standing.

"A moment, Lynna," he said before she had a chance to head off on another errand.

"What is it?" she asked, a resigned expression on her face.

"There's something I--something I need you to do. But I don't feel right asking you to do it. What is the last thing in the world you would expect me to have you do?"

"Marry someone off one of the ships?" She gave him an confused look, along with a shrug. Avern couldn't help but laugh at her suggestion, and he felt a little better for doing it. He smiled at his daughter fondly, and took her hand in his.

"Not quite. Let's go somewhere quiet and talk for a moment." He started leading the way back towards the small library again.

"I'm supposed to be running errands..." her voice trailed off in a questioning tone.

"They can wait a moment. This is important." He tried to keep his voice calm, not looking back at her when he said it.

"Alright." She followed him silently down the hallway and into the little room, where he turned and closed the door behind him once again.

"Have a seat, Lynna." He waited a moment for her to sit down before settling himself into the other chair. He found it ironic that he now sat where Agmar had been only a short while before.

"Have I done something wrong, Da?"

He could see the worry on her face, but he knew she was more afraid than showed if she was using the name she'd affectionately called him when she was a child. Nowadays she usually addressed him as 'father' instead.

"No, Lynna," he reassured her. "but there is something I have to ask you to do, and I don't know exactly how to ask it." He paused a moment, taking a breath. "I keep hoping I can protect you from the world, Lynna, but some things are bigger than I am. Apparently, this evil thing that Agmar has been telling us about is one of them."

"You can't expect to protect me from everything father. I'm not a child anymore, and I'm glad to be able to help right now. What is it you need me to do?" He saw her sit up a little straighter, as if to emphasis her point, and for a moment he swelled with so much pride in her he thought he might burst.

"There's something we haven't talked about in a long time, Lynna. Not since you were very small. Not since you came and told me that one of the other children you were playing with - Milford, I think - was lying about letting Marcus Henton's dog loose so it could get at the chickens."

He saw her face pale some at the memory. Not unlike the look he'd seen on her face when he'd explained that she couldn't just go around reading people's thoughts, no matter who might be lying. Fortunately, Marcus Henton had been one of the ruder members of the community, so he hadn't felt any real obligation to let the man know what Milford had been up to. It had also happened prior to Avern becoming mayor. He had kept an eye on Milford though.

"Da?" She had worry written all over her.

"I've had a long talk with Agmar, Lynna. This thing, this evil that's coming, it's going to have an effect on anyone who can... anyone who has abilities like you do. I know we don't talk about it, but we have to right now. Agmar has abilities too, though apparently different ones, and he says you're in danger because you haven't had any training. Normally, I'd tell him to go mess with someone else's life, but unfortunately I find that I believe him right now."

Her eyes were wide, and she had bunches of skirt and apron clenched in each of her slender hands.

"He has said he can help you. That by learning about your abilities you can avoid the worst of the danger. He says that he can keep it from hurting him, and maybe he can teach you enough to do the same. Although he also said that it's likely you'll be unable to hide your abilities through all of this. There's going to be a surge of power, so to speak, that is probably going to give you away to those around us."

"What if I stayed at home? What if I get tied down to the bed like others will be, and don't see anyone?"

"I'm afraid it's not going to be that easy, Lynna. If you're able to do half the things your mother could, tying you down won't be worth the effort. If you go mad with rage, and then have power coursing through you asking to be used as Agmar says it will... I don't think anyone other than Agmar will be able to stop you. I'd like you..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'd like you to let him teach you some things. For your own safety, Lynna." It was all he could do to not pull his eyes away from hers. He'd already tucked his hands under him, sitting on them so they wouldn't give away how much he was trembling.

"He already approached me. Are you sure about this? What if people find out? You've never told me exactly what the other town did to mother..."

"Just the fact that the people of that town killed her is sufficient information. You needn't ever know the details, Lynna. And I don't want to share them. Maybe the people of this town will be different. They've known us a long time. But I make no guarantees. I tried to reassure your mother, thinking we'd had friends who would understand, but I was wrong then. We'll pack a couple of bags and if we have to leave we will. Agmar said you might also be able to be of some assistance in the days ahead, so maybe the townsfolk will recognize that and be willing to accept you as a result. But right now, my main concern is your safety. And if Agmar training you to better control your abilities will help keep you safe, then I'm in favor of it."

The image of his wife's body lying in the road where he'd found her kept flickering through his mind. He realized, too late, that Lynna had been reaching. Her expression changed to one of horror, and one hand flew up to her mouth, her eyes wide. He winced, and moved out of his chair to put his arms around her as he desperately tried to think of anything else but his wife's broken body. Unfortunately, more images of Lydia - both alive and dead - swirled around him chaotically. He only hoped she'd broken the contact that had allowed her to see what he'd never wanted her to know. He held her for a moment, wondering which of them was really clinging to who.

"It's going to be alright, Lynna," he said, strengthening his own resolve as he did. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, I promise."

"I'm scared, Da."

He stroked her hair gently with his hand, and old habit from when she'd been small and snuggled up in his lap, often falling asleep there before he'd carry her to bed and tuck her safely under her blankets.

"I know, Lynna. I know."