NOVEL NEXT 46. Over Breakfast
Excerpt from Romn of Rabaht’s ‘Meals For The Senses.’
“In any good meal, one must consider all angles. It is not enough to concentrate only on the taste of one ingredient or another, or even on the meal alone. A chef considers all angles—the exterior and interior of the meal, the presentation, the plating, even the setting it is served in. Consider the person for whom the meal is intended—their hopes, their expectations. Don’t just look at the outside—consider what’s inside too.”
The blackened coin was nearly the exact twin of the piece of silver that the priestess Suee had handed to Yenna—that had been barely an hour ago, discounting the time spent in the realm of stillness. The mage felt like she desperately needed to go a day or two without something exciting occurring after all this, but some ridiculous voice in the back of her head exulted in the glory of constant happenings.
Where the silver coin had featured a moon-and-stars design, the blackened coin’s features were worn away as though by great heat. The surface was scorched copper, and ash stained the tips of Yenna’s fingers as she inspected it—inexplicably, this didn’t remove any of the soot from the coin itself. Resigning herself to dirtied hands, the mage took a closer look with her magical senses.
On that front, it was relatively uninteresting—Yenna guessed its magic was spent, as it was not absorbing or disrupting the local flow of magic. That still left vital clues, and the mage looked closer. There was nothing magical on the exterior of the coin, no markings or runes for magic to catch on. Instead, its inner workings were quite literally inner—by some magecraft the creator of this coin had hollowed out the interior of the thin piece of metal to form a spell circle. Passing a small amount of ambient magic through it lit the spell up to Yenna’s senses, and she got to work making sense of the unusual circle within.
“Have you discovered anything?” Aroearoe’s voice broke through Yenna’s concentration, and the mage bit her tongue trying not to let the irritation of being disrupted come through in her reply.
“I am still looking—whatever spell was in here was spent. Please, give me just a moment.”
“This is ridiculous.” Hjin had spoken, his voice deep and self-assured. “Your mage could say anything here—this is hardly a fair trial.”
Eone arched an eyebrow and smirked dangerously. “Oh, would you rather have a trial? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yenna lie before, so that’d definitely be a new one. If this is foul play, we can settle this now—I don’t think you’d like this to be public.”
Seve’s expression was harsh, but she didn’t rise to the bait. Hjin seemed sufficiently cowed to drop the point, and Yenna shuddered as everyone’s eyes expectantly fell on her again. How am I more worried about having the crowd’s attention than I am about solving this puzzle? This is getting ridiculous!
The spell circle in the coin wasn’t too complex, but its parts were an unusual amalgam of various disciplines. The basic outline was common to Arcane magic, but its treatment of the energies it directed was thoroughly in the realm of witchcraft—the way the spell carefully split combined magic into purer colours to increase its efficiency was very familiar to Yenna now. The most unusual part of it was the shape the spell had been contorted into. Still contained within its circle, the actual flow of magic drew a kind of squiggling line that felt uncomfortably familiar—it reminded Yenna of a half-obscured word, her brain trying and failing to fill in the gaps.
Blinking uncomfortably, Yenna put that thought aside. The thought clawed at the metaphorical partition in the mage’s head, an unwanted distraction living inside her mind—Yenna concentrated on the pain in her wrist to bring her back, though she really would rather have Mayi look it over sooner rather than later. All the more reason to solve this puzzle and move on.
The odd shape drawn by the spell’s magical flow aside, the function of the spell was to act as a teleportation beacon. It didn’t take a particularly great leap of logic to figure out why the coin had been handed over, then—wherever Seve Stormsea went with it, an attacker could use it to coordinate a safe, nearby place to remotely create a teleportation circle. What didn’t make sense to Yenna, however, was the fact that a teleportation beacon was by design meant to be very easy to notice—did the unusual shape somehow preclude it from casual observation? What mechanism covered up its signal? Did the spell to find it require an idea of where the beacon was–
“Yenna?” Eone’s voice this time, close and reassuring. “You’ve been staring off into space for a while. Anything?”
“I-I, um, yes.” Yenna spluttered a bit as she reigned back in the flood of questions plaguing her mind¹, “Yes, I understand the purpose of the coin. It’s a teleportation beacon—it must be what let the beast-man that first appeared figure out exactly where to go.”
There was a bit of murmuring between the groups, before Seve spoke up.
“I swear to you, on my honour as a member of House Stormsea–” Aroearoe snorted gracelessly, and Seve carried on, “...That I was not aware of the purpose of this coin. If I had, I would have discarded it then and there, and slain the man responsible.”
A silence fell over the groups, tension building. Aroearoe sighed, and gave a small flicking gesture towards Shen. “I trust you about as far as I can throw you, but we cannot move on stuck like this. Release him.”
The man wasn’t being held, but Narasanha took a subtle step back, and Shen tentatively escaped her reach to stand by his sister.
“You will be hearing about this treatment–” Shen began to complain, only for his sister to clip him over the back of the head.
“Silence, fool. Head, we apologise if we have given offense.” The three Stormsea siblings bowed, with Seve forcibly lowering Shen’s head so far that his horn nearly tapped against the floor.
“Rise. Let us continue our negotiations in peace.”
—
The nobles had left for a separate dining room once again, except for Eone—Narasanha and Suee had gone with Aroearoe, the former ostensibly to keep the Deepstar head safe. Yenna suspected Eone just wanted to have a moment without her, as the bodyguard had become rather clingy during the entire incident.
“Make sure Y– the mage’s wrist is looked after. She cannot cast for us if she is injured.” Narasanha had not left without making sure Yenna was taken care of. “She has acted bravely.”
Eone had raised an eyebrow, given an ear-splitting laugh and left the bodyguard with a hearty pat on the back. Only when the pair of them were around a corner did Yenna feel Narasanha’s eyes leave her—Why was she staring at me like that? Shouldn’t she be worried for the captain more? Or is it because I am so much more vulnerable?
The captain had looked like she was going to say something the entire way over to meet up with Mayi and Jiin, but every time she started she began to giggle—a joke for her and her alone. It honestly made Yenna a little bit uncomfortable, but she wasn’t in the mood to show it. The entire contents of the day had been extremely draining, and all she wanted was to deal with the pain in her hand and read a book for the rest of the night, alone.
Mayi had cleaned herself up of blood, and the other priestess looked to be doing better—under the doctor’s insistence, they were leaning up against a cushioned seat, sipping at a glass of water and eating small pieces of meat from the remaining platters. A beleaguered yolm servant was standing by the pool of blood on the floor, Jiin helping the man to mop up the mess with a pile of rags. That uncomfortable feeling kept pushing itself to the front of Yenna’s mind—it felt surreal to see the aftermath of the violence just become some mundane part of the day.
“Priest! How are you feeling?” Eone walked over and knelt down by the heavily bandaged kesh, eyes running over the exposed barrel of their body, fur matted with blood.
“The stars bless me with a guardian,” the priest spoke in a surprisingly deep voice, “For which I am eternally grateful.”
“He’ll recover.” Mayi nodded her head at the priest. “Yenna, come here and let me fix that thing—how are you not howling with it like that?”
Yenna looked at the priest, then back at her own wrist. “It’s part of my mental compartmentalisation—it’s quite uncomfortable, but I did not have time to worry–”
“Ugh, that’s dangerous! Here. Now.” Mayi’s expression brooked no argument, and Yenna sat herself down next to the doctor, holding up the arm. “Pain is there for a reason, Master Yenna. Next, you’re like to tell me that you’d ignore a fire alarm if it got in the way of your reading”
Falling silent, Yenna refrained from talking about the one time she had ignored a fire alarm to finish reading a riveting text on hyperaetherologics—It was just a drill! No problems!—while Mayi carefully replaced the splint and bandaging on her wrist. With the inclusion of a dollop of a foul-smelling paste that caused her skin to tingle numbly, the new bandage made it so that she couldn’t bend her wrist at all, without digging uncomfortably into her.
“It would be better if I didn’t have to work around that bracelet of yours. How did you get it on there so tightly, anyway?” Mayi inspected her handiwork, the silver of the bracelet Lumale had imposed on Yenna shining through the bandages.
“It’s meant to be a test– guh! A test I can finish, no less! Oh, but in the morning, surely. I feel fit to collapse.”
“Then, I look forward to whatever magical nonsense you do to pry it off while we eat our breakfast.” Mayi gave a soft smile. “Go sit down and read a book or something. With your good hand, please—let the other rest for tonight.”
Yenna gave a nod. A break sounded nice.
—
Eone had left to make sure every member of the expedition was accounted for—Hirihiri had emerged from a hiding place not long after everything was said and done, explaining that she had hid to get away from the beast-man.
On that note, the creature was still frozen in the town square. Sergeant Myuu, the soldier that had let the group into town, had cordoned off the area immediately around it. Yenna saw her briefly out of one of the manor’s windows—sketching the beast in great detail. The sergeant seemed awfully interested in him, even beyond the idle curiosity that the townsfolk had towards it.
Aroearoe had come to some sort of agreement with the Stormsea contingent, who all left immediately—straight down the road, without a look back. The Deepstar head had also promised spare rooms to several members of the crew, including the captain, the doctor—Mayi refused to take the room unless Jiin could share it, to which Aroearoe begrudgingly agreed—and Yenna herself. The bed in her room was definitely designed for yolm, but it was large, soft and low enough not to be a bother. The mage sprawled herself out, passing the rest of the evening with her reading and writing.
—
Morning came with blessedly little incident, and a gentle knock at Yenna’s door.
“Y-Yes?!” The mage hadn’t expected a wake-up call, and was tangled in her own blankets.
A man’s voice spoke, soft and refined through the door. “Breakfast is prepared in the dining room, madam. If you should prefer it brought up, you need but ask.”
“Ah, I-I’ll be right down…”
Breakfast in bed sounded tempting, but Yenna didn’t feel like being alone right now—her mind kept wandering back to the terrifying face of the beast-man, analysing every moment for clues, trying to work out what she could have done better, every way she could have failed. Having people around would at least fill her head with the familiar anxiety of being social, rather than this new, unsafe cloud hanging over her head.
When Yenna was dressed and downstairs, a servant directed her to a different dining area.
“The main hall is undergoing maintenance at this time, madam,” the man had explained, “So we will be using the secondary hall.”
It was a bit smaller—no beautiful bookshelves, the separate tables replaced by one long one—but no less beautiful. A fireplace crackled away at one end of the room, an enchantment subtly circulating warm air to bring about an even temperature. Yenna tore herself away from the prospect of inspecting its inner workings when Eone called out to her.
“How’s our favourite mage?” The captain had a plate full of eggs, strips of bacon and buttered slices of toasted bread—the empty plate next to it insisted she was already on seconds.
“I’m doing better,” Yenna lied, feeling the dull ache in her wrist, “No problems.”
“C’mon, we’ve got a seat for you and everything.”
Eone gestured to a kesh-suitable cushion, right next to Hirihiri. The old cook was fussing over her breakfast, muttering about the meal ruining the crews’ expectations for morning fare. Tirk was sitting on her lap, shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth, while Mayi and Jiin sat across from where Yenna had been offered a seat—the pair of them had distinctly messy hair, causing the mage to momentarily wonder if they hadn’t been in some kind of tussle on the way here.
Aroearoe was nowhere to be seen—in fact, they were the only ones here for breakfast.
“Where is everyone? Your mother? Muut, Mysilia?” Yenna realised she hadn’t seen the little mereu or Eone’s second-in-command for some time—at least, it felt like some time.
“Muut and mother are off drawing up plans or what-have-you,” Eone waved around a piece of bread before shoving half of it into her mouth, “Tot’ly boring shtuff. Shince when d’you care about–ulp! Mysilia, anyway? I thought she annoyed the toss out of you.”
“W-Well,” Yenna grimaced, “She hasn’t been the kindest to me. B-But I somewhat understand her skepticism.”
“Y’hear that?” Eone turned and looked down her top, and Yenna blushed when she realised why.
“Hmph!” The haughty mereu extracted herself from her hiding place, and Yenna felt a tinge of unwanted jealousy as she clambered out. “I suppose you deserve some recognition for not dying. …Well done.”
“Ah, two icy hearts warmed by our mage already!” Eone bellowed with laughter, and Mayi choked on a piece of toast.
“Two? Who’s the other? Don’t tell me…?” Mayi looked incredulously between Yenna and Eone, after Jiin had helped dislodge the offending piece of bread.
“Mhm. A real magnet for trouble, our Yenna.” The captain nodded sagely before bursting into laughter again—Mysilia flew off of her, alighting on the side of a fruit bowl. The tiny woman grabbed a grape and sullenly chewed on it, the little berry as big as a melon in her hands.
“I’m not sure I follow,” Yenna sighed, trying her best to smile, “But thank you, Mysilia. I, erm, did my best, as it were.”
That prompted another cackle of laughter from Eone, and a hushed discussion between Mayi and Jiin—Yenna felt awkward.
“I don’t get it either.” Tirk piped up, gulping down his breakfast. “Master Yenna, weren’t you going to show Mayi something?”
How does he do it, I wonder? “I was. My bracelet—I was going to take it off.”
“Over breakfast?” Mayi looked incredulous all over again. “I was joking, Yenna. It’s not going to explode or something, is it?”
Yenna considered it for a moment, the room falling silent. “I… am not sure. I hope not!”
“She hopes not!” Mysilia scoffed. “Some mage.”
“Well, what is it?” Hirihiri tapped the mereu on the head, prompting a quiet bwuh! out of the diminutive creature. “The bracelet, I mean. I can’t imagine you’ve brought all this fanfare over a change of jewellery.”
Yenna nodded, and quickly explained the circumstances leading up to it—a reminder for everyone, of Lumale’s challenge. Understand all six Colours of magic, condense them into pure crystals, attach them to the bracelet, and…
“And…?” Hirihiri prompted.
“And then, I’m not sure. I assume it will come off, and the witch Lumale will teach me my next steps.”
Despite the easy air of the breakfast table—not to mention her untouched meal—Yenna lifted her injured wrist up. The bracelet caught the morning light through the windows, highlighting the six sockets along its outside, and Yenna felt a tension build up in her chest. The mage wondered if doing this wouldn’t activate some cruel prank of Lumale’s, to make her look like a fool in front of everyone.
Yenna sighed quietly, muttering under her breath. “Nothing to do but find out.”
¹ - Don’t worry, dear reader. Yenna Bookbinder spent seventeen pages detailing these thoughts, without a singular conclusive answer. They make for dry reading, so you will have to take my word for it.