Yes, they all called him that; even Laral's parents, for some reason. Toff was generally despised across the village and Laral had no idea why. None of the adults spoke about it and Gren refused to explain why he thought Toff should die.
"We lost the knives—that's why we have to use power. I'll try to sneak away with some sun crystal—we can use that to focus," Gren replied. "We can use the nut breaking chant, only we aim it at his head instead of the thick-shelled nuts that Father Oak grows."
"But his head will explode." Even Clover wanted to back away from this idea. "This is what we're going to do, and you'll help or I'll tell the entire village that it was you who tried to jump him with Barthe's missing knives. You know Tiearan wanted to know where they went, don't you?" Gren gave both boys a threatening look. Laral swallowed hard. Theft would get them banished outside the barrier. Theft and attempted violence would see their power removed and they would still be banished. It wasn't an attractive prospect. Clover and Laral paid attention while Gren outlined his plan.
Chapter 7
"These are not our ceremonial daggers." The Prime Minister for the newly crowned King of Invardine bade his two escorts dump two large boxes on the reception desk. The Second-Tier Wizard who manned the desk in the antechamber of Grey House's sales office stared at the Invardinian Prime Minister in shock.
"But those were never out of our possession until you came to take them four days ago," the Second-Tier Wizard blustered. "We cannot be responsible for anything that has been outside our control for several days."
"These are the daggers we were given, and they are new. These have been checked carefully—the jewels are the same but the metal is not ancient. We have had our experts examine them carefully. The ancient method used to create the metal for these ceremonial daggers was not as sophisticated as it is now and there were impurities in the steel that are no longer present. I suggest you get someone here who can explain what has happened to our original daggers. I am at a loss as to why you would keep the old knives yet return the jewels—the knives have no value except to us—as heirlooms of our kingdom." The Prime Minister had white hair, piercing green eyes and wrinkles everywhere—he was ancient but determined.
"Let me see who I can find to speak with you," the Second-Tier Wizard muttered and sent out mindspeech. Calebert and Glendes both appeared moments later.
"What is this?" Calebert lifted one of the daggers from the box. "These are what we sent back—I detect the residual power around them. Are all the daggers like this?" He looked across the tall desk at the ancient Prime Minister.
"No, two were as they should be. All the others have been replaced with new blades."
"Let me take a look." Glendes reached out for the blade Calebert held in his hand. His eyes unfocused for several moments while the Prime Minister waited impatiently.
"Calebert, did you do anything other than a visual inspection on these when Nissa finished with them?" One of Glendes' dark eyebrows was raised quite high.
"No, Eldest. She was so far behind that the visual was all I had time to do. What have you found?" Calebert was beginning to worry.
"What did you tell Nissa to do, exactly, when you handed this assignment to her?"
"I told her that I wanted them like new," Calebert had to go back in his mind to the day he'd handed out the assignment.
"And that's exactly what you got—like new daggers. All of these have been altered at a molecular level. They are new, Master Wizard Calebert. My great-granddaughter achieved something that some of the First-Tiers might have problems with. Take these back and rework them. Surely you remember the time in which they were made?" Glendes handed the dagger back to Calebert and folded away.
"What did he just say?" The Prime Minister was attempting to sort it all out, and still failing to understand.
"That the one who was given this assignment took the assignment too literally," Calebert grumbled. "Do not fear; you will have your daggers back in their original condition, minus the rust, of course. They'll be ready in two weeks. I trust you won't need them until then?"
"No, just as long as we get them back. With a partial refund for the trouble."
"I'll see to it," Calebert nodded to the Prime Minister before he and the boxes of daggers disappeared.
"She did what?" Shadow didn't understand. Glendes was having trouble with it as well. Nissa was stronger than any of them realized. Already at the level of a First-Tier? Unheard of. And the fact that there had only been a handful of female First-Tiers over the years hadn't gone past them, either.
"We've never had a female Master Wizard," Glendes sighed. "And if we don't find her, we may not have one still. What is the latest on the search?"
"Nothing, Grampa." Shadow sat heavily in one of the chairs before Glendes' desk. "The Larentii are tighter than clams, saying they can't interfere, Belen came to Le-Ath Veronis two days ago and spoke to Lissa and Thurlow but I don't know what that involved, and everyone else is out looking, including the Karathian and some of Wylend's handpicked warlocks. So far, they haven't found anything." Neither one was saying what had gone through their minds repeatedly the past few days—that their last words to Nissa hadn't been kind ones.
"They'll be along shortly." Narissa settled herself on the dry, brown grass next to a sliding wooden platform. It sat half in and half out of the boundary.
"What is this for?" Toff pushed the wheeled platform with a hand—it slid forward easily.
"They place the food on that side and slide it toward me. That's how I get my supplies. They can't enter here," Narissa sniffed angrily at that bit of information. "I'm sure they'll be quite surprised when they find you here with me." Narissa unsuccessfully attempted to hide a smile.
"Will I be in trouble?" Toff worried about that. Would he be found out and sent back to Corent and Redbird, only to be bullied and threatened by Gren and his followers again?
"Oh, I don't think so," Narissa didn't try to hide her smile this time. "See, there they come."
Toff squinted in the direction Narissa pointed and saw a cart with two people on board in the distance. He stared—there was no horse or ox pulling the cart; it was moving on its own. "Not seen one of those before?" Narissa laughed and the laugh didn't sound kind. Toff whirled to look at her.
"How did this one come to be inside your boundary, Narissa?" One of their visitors spoke. Toff forcibly shut his mouth—these two looked familiar to him, but he couldn't say exactly how. One was only a few inches taller than Toff, with black hair like Toff's. The other was slightly taller, with dark-brown hair. Both had slight builds, but hefted the boxes of food and provisions easily onto the platform.
"You know as much as I," Narissa retorted. "Please inform the palace that I will be willing to negotiate a trade."
Toff reached out to lift the first of two boxes when he set it down again with a thump on the wooden planks. "What?" His voice was sharper than he intended.
"You don't think I was just going to put up with you forever, do you?" Narissa's voice was gleeful. "I think I can negotiate a little to trade you back to the Queen, you know. Don't look so shocked, young one. This boundary wasn't set because I wanted it. This is my prison and I intend to use you to make it more comfortable, if not gain my freedom back. Now—you'll do what I say, just like you have been, and you won't be harmed."
She was threatening him? Toff backed up in alarm. Narissa was no different from Gren and the others—he'd just been too blind to see through her intentions.
"Don't worry, young one. We'll have you out of there before you know it," the dark-haired visitor declared, climbing back onto the cart with his companion. "If she lays a hand on you, the Queen may kill her herself." The cart backed away and turned to drive off in the opposite direction quite fast indeed, leaving Toff facing Narissa.
"You—you're no different from the others," Toff snarled sullenly. He was weary of being bullied, used and constantly threatened.
"This is the way life is—get used to it," Narissa snarled right back. "Do you think I plan to live the rest of my life inside a shielded boundary, with nobody to talk to who has any sense at all? Do you? Load those boxes in the wheelbarrow and come along. It's nearly time for dinner." Narissa took off toward her cottage. Toff watched her walk away for a while before piling boxes in the wheelbarrow and following Narissa in resignation.
"Tory," Ry whispered as he jerked his head at the comesula guard who bowed as he walked into the dining hall. At a nod from Lissa, the comesula approached her place at the table.
"Veris, I haven't seen you in a while," Queen Lissa stopped him from kneeling at the side of her chair.
"My Queen, I bring urgent news," Veris couldn't keep himself from bowing again as he spoke.
"What is it?" Lissa asked, lines of worry appearing on her forehead.
Drake and Drew, who sat on either side of the Queen, also seemed interested.
"Somehow, a young one has gotten inside Narissa's boundary and she is offering to bargain for him. We know not how he made his way inside, only that he is there and quite shaken, it seems. Narissa is forcing him to fetch and carry for her, if my reports are accurate."
The Queen stood abruptly at Veris' words, and Drake and Drew were standing with her, with one other of her Inner Circle mates. Most were out looking for Nissa, however, so it was only Drake, Drew and Rigo to go with the Queen. "Mom," Tory shouted, just as Lissa was about to fold away with help from her two Falchani.
"You want to come?" Tory and Ry's mother looked as if she were about to take something—or someone—apart.