Chapter 33: Vivianne – Web

Lune’s windows watched the autumn landscape with fiery eyes. Outside, silent lightning crowned the Wave Mountains. Inside, the warm, yellow fire of fireplaces and candles poured out of Lune’s windows except for the one covered by a wraith.

Vivianne sat at her desk and took a nostalgic look at the map of the Wave, her first love. Today she had a new love, which Rimbaud had finally found for her: the original plans of the Rock.

Something inside Vivianne wondered why the Wraith was restless, looking out windows, treading on carpets, but Vivianne forgot everything when she unfolded the first parchment and saw the first lines of the Rock’s architecture. In her hands were the secrets of Deran’s royal castle, the magic of those buildings. Maybe she would finally find that tunnel again, the one she entered when she was ten but never found again. She still carried the piece of rock with the frog and the fox.

‘I must leave,’ said Sáeril Quepentorne. ‘I will wait until the storms are over, then I must go.’

That yanked Vivianne out of the Rock, back into Lune. Marcus jumped up from his armchair, dropping his book. Vivianne’s brother was as tall as the Wraith. His hair wasn’t the same silky gold as Vivianne’s, but his was smooth and would be lightly wavy if he let it grow. Phisically, he was the opposite of Vivianne; strong and powerful, as solid as Lune itself.

‘Don’t be surprised, don’t protest,’ said the Wraith.

‘I’ll do both!’ said Marcus. ‘You’ve just returned from who knows where.’

‘We missed you,’ said Vivianne. She went to stand by the Wraith.

The Wraith turned his back to the window. The two Masters of Lune faced him. Marcus with those indomitable, eagle-like eyes of his; Vivianne with her ethereal way, flexible and unbreakable, like bamboo in the wind.

‘It is in my nature to move,’ said the Wraith. ‘Gone is the time when I belonged in only one place, the time when I had roots.’

Vivianne tried to find a face hidden inside the hood. When the Wraith spoke like a mystery, he was hiding something.

‘Stop talking in riddles,’ said Marcus.

‘Not talk in riddles? What are words if not riddles? Open a dictionary and they’re all there, queued up and deciphered, organized and clear, but remove them from the dicionary, throw them in the wind, soaked in voice. The results are new riddles.’

‘Don’t change the subject. We are talking about your departure.’

‘My departure is not a subject, it’s a fact.’ He faced the window once again. ‘There is a murmur almost like a purr. But beyond it there is silence. It seems Franária is taking a breath.’

‘What is going to happen?’ asked Vivianne.

‘From the moment I arrived in Lune I felt a presence, like a shadow in the corner of my eye, but every time I looked, it was gone. Then I spread my magic all over Franária, like a spider’s web and waited. I hoped to find nothing.’

Vivianne thought she saw embers shining where his eyes should be. Marcus came to the Wraith’s other side and watched the undulating plains of Deran, the Wave, the lightning.

‘I can’t tell what will happen,’ said the Wraith. ‘The future was never a talent of mine. All I can say is time holds many surprises. To wait until the end of winter is a risk I must take. There is something alive in the Mouth of War and it has the power of darkness. Franária is not idle. The eagle has summoned forces that it cannot control. The truth is I should go now. I should have gone already, but I can’t force myself to leave without protectiong you first and the kind of magic I need to protect you takes time to weave.’

‘Is there anything we can do?’ asked Marcus.

‘Protect Lune. Protect Deran. If possible, protect Franária.’

‘Lune will not fall as long as I’m alive,’ said Marcus. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Home.’

Chapter 34