Lawrence Watt-Evans: Taking Flight

“That speaks well of you, lad,” Valder said. “Most people would have just left him to rot.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kelder said, embarrassed.

“I would have,” Asha said. “Why didn’t he find his own countercharm years ago?”

“I don’t think he even knew it was a spell,” Kelder told her.

“I didn’t know Irith had any love spells,” Valder remarked.

“Well, she doesn’t use it much,” Kelder said. “It causes trouble. Like turning into a fish.”

Valder smiled. “I can see how it might,” he said. “So you’re looking for a countercharm?”

Kelder nodded. “I thought we could probably find one in Ethshar,” he said.

“You may not need to go that far,” Valder said. “Do you know the spell’s name?”

“Are you a wizard?” Asha asked, suspiciously.

“No,” Valder replied, “but my wife is.”

“It’s called Fendel’s Infatuous Love Spell,” Kelder said, wondering why a wizard would ever have married an innkeeper.

“Oh,” said Valder, grinning cheerfully, “that should be no problem, then-Iridith knows just about all Fendel’s spells. Fendel was in here just about five years ago, and the two of them traded recipes.”

This was too much for Kelder; his jaw dropped, then snapped shut.

“You’re teasing,” he accused.

“No, I’m not,” Valder said.

“Fendel the Great is dead, isn’t he?”

“Well, he wasn’t the last time I saw him,” Valder said, “but I don’t know for certain whether he is now. It seems unlikely; he’s been around for a very long time.”

Over his initial shock, Kelder remembered that Perina had said Fendel was rumored to still be alive. He moved on.

“Iridith,” he said. “Do you mean the famous wizard, Iridith of Ethshar?”

“I mean my wife, Iridith,” Valder said. “And she’s a wizard, and a good one, but I didn’t think she was particularly famous, and she’s from Ethshar, but I didn’t think she had a cognomen. She’s just Iridith.”

“But there are other people named Iridith…”

“And I suppose you’re the only Kelder from Shulara?”

Kelder decided that argument wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re trying to tell me,” he said, “that you’re married to a powerful wizard, and that Fendel the Great is a friend of yours? Why in the World would a wizard marry an ordinary innkeeper, and why would Fendel associate with one?”

“I like to think,” Valder said, with both amusement and sarcasm in his tone, “that Iridith married me because she likes me. And Fendel isn’t so much a friend as a business acquaintance; we met during the War.”

“What war?” Kelder asked, afraid he already knew.

“The Great War, of course,” Valder said. “How do you think Irith and I came to be friends? Those of us who live longer than normal-I wouldn’t go so far as to call us immortals, you understand, but on the other hand I don’t have any intention of dying any time soon-anyway, those of us who live more than a century or two tend to run into each other eventually.”

Asha was staring wide-eyed at the innkeeper.

“You’re telling me,” Kelder said, eyes narrowed, “that you’re hundreds of years old?”

“About two hundred and fifty,” Valder replied. “I’m under a curse, you see-Fendel made a mistake in a spell he put on my sword when I was in the army.” He pointed at the sword that hung above the fireplace. “I can’t die until it kills me, and it can’t kill me until it’s killed a few other men first, and the war’s over, which means I could get in trouble if I went around lopping off heads. Besides, I’m in no hurry to die.”

“Oh,” Kelder said, not sure he believed this.

“I don’t usually tell people this,” Valder added, “but if you dragged Ezdral here all the way from Shan on the Desert, at least your intentions are good.”

“So you … you met Fendel the Great during the war, because he was enchanting swords?” Kelder asked. “And he still comes to visit? And was it during the war that you met Iridith? And Irith?”

“No,” Valder said, “I met Fendel accidentally, when I stumbled across his hiding place, and he enchanted my sword to get rid of me. I’ve only seen him once since then, when he stopped at the inn on his way somewhere and talked shop with Iridith. As for my wife, I met Iridith after the war, when I was looking for a wizard who could fix the spell on the sword. And I met Irith about fifty years after that, when she turned up here at the inn, and since you don’t meet very many girls with wings, I got interested and found out her story.” He paused, then asked, “You do know who she is, don’t you, and how she got that way?”

“She’s told me,” Kelder said warily.

Valder smiled wryly. “I don’t know what she told you or didn’t,” he said, “but it probably wasn’t the entire truth. Did she say why she used Javan’s Second Augmentation?”

“Yes,” Kelder said. “She was bored…”

“She was scared green,” Valder interrupted.

“She said there was a scare that the Northerners were going to invade…”

“There might have been,” Valder conceded, “but mostly she wanted to get out of serving her term.”

“Serving…?”

“Sure,” Valder said. “There was a war on, and every journeyman wizard was required to serve a five-year term in the military-sometimes more. And Irith wasn’t about to do that.”

“Oh,” Kelder said.

“And did she tell you about the glamour?”

“The what?”

“The beauty spell,” Valder explained. “She was pretty to begin with, but come on, do you think a face like that could be natural? She used a glamour, a spell that enhances appearance, makes you more attractive-it was one of the set she put in there, but somehow she never happens to mention it-does she?”

“No,” Kelder admitted, “she didn’t.”

“And she probably told you about the eternal youth,” Valder continued, “since she wouldn’t have put a love spell on an old man, so she must have done it while he was young, and you’d have figured that out.”

“She told me about that,” Kelder said, a little defensively.

“Did she tell you all about it?” Valder insisted.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did she tell you that not only can’t she grow old, she can’t grow up? She’ll be fifteen forever, not just physically, but mentally.”

“She said she was fifteen,” Kelder agreed warily.

“She meant it,” Valder said. “She’s fifteen in every way, except chronologically. She can’t ever change, can’t mature. She’ll always be flighty and spoiled and selfish.”

“Well…” Kelder began.

That didn’t sound possible, somehow. He turned to see what Asha thought, only to discover that the child had fallen asleep in her chair.

Then Irith called from the stairs, and the kitchen door opened for the delivery of their dinner, and Kelder decided to worry about it later.

Valder, in a generous gesture that Kelder found himself not really appreciating, gave Ezdral, Irith, and Kelder separate rooms, at no charge; Asha he put in Thetta’s room.

The dinner, too, was on the house-except for the wine. That he charged for. Ezdral didn’t seem to mind, however, having obtained oushka somewhere. Valder had to carry the old man to his room.

Asha had woken up long enough to stuff bread and cheese in her mouth, and had then dozed off again, and been turned over to Thetta for the night.

When Valder returned from hauling the unconscious Ezdral upstairs, he took a place at the table and said seriously, “We need to get that spell off him.”