The stark compound lacked personality. Pure function. No gardens or flowers or artwork. At least none visible. Perhaps they decorated their cottages. As we entered into the guest quarters, I thought perhaps not.
Plain walls, drab-colored blankets and practical table and chairs.
“The dinner bell will ring in two hours,” Brand said. He left.
We waited a few minutes, making sure he was out of range before saying anything.
“This is…” I cast about for the right word.
“Weird,” Leif said. “I’m getting all kinds of emotions from these people. But they don’t feel right.”
“Did you sense the wild magician?” Skippy asked.
“No, but I haven’t gotten close to everyone yet.”
“What did you mean by right?” I asked.
“When outsiders arrive, the reaction is usually curiosity mixed with a little apprehension and a bit of excitement. These people are afraid and worried. Also there’s a sense of urgency and secrecy. They could be hiding the magician, and we could be causing the fear. But no curiosity. No excitement. Not even from the children.”
Another oddity struck me. “Did you notice their clothing all matched? It reminded me of Ixia where they are required to wear uniforms. Except in Ixia, they use color. Here it’s all tans, grays and white, as if the life has been bleached from this place.”
“Why does it matter?” Skippy asked. “They’re not doing anything illegal. We’re here to find the magician. How this family chooses to live and dress is their own business. Not ours.”
I hated to agree with him, but he had a point.
“I could be reading more into their reactions than is there,” Leif said. “Just keep an eye out during dinner and listen.”
Dinner was a quiet affair despite the full tables. The dining room lacked ornamentation. Walsh’s family lined up and pushed plates along a long counter. Servers standing over containers of food spooned helpings onto the dishes.
Walsh had greeted us at the door and escorted us inside. He sent his assistant to fill plates for us even though we protested. The taste of oysters tainted all the food, even the bread. We sat at Walsh’s table with his brother, Fallon, Fallon’s wife and two daughters.
The youngest, Gia, sat next to me. She looked about eight years old. Her long blond hair had been woven into many thin braids, which were pulled back into a ponytail.
Walsh prattled on about the family and their accomplishments. The rest of the diners spoke in low tones.
I asked Gia what was her favorite subject in school.
Her eyes bulged like a fish out of water. She shot Walsh a terrified glance.
He gave her an indulgent smile. “Answer her, she won’t bite.”
With reluctance, Gia said, “I like math, but I like swimming the best.”
“Do you dive for oysters?” I asked.
She nodded.
Walsh said, “She’s a little fish. We can’t keep her out of the water. She dives deeper and stays down longer than most of the boys.”
Gia dipped her head as if embarrassed.
“That’s wonderful,” I said. Then I leaned close and whispered, “I’m not a good swimmer at all. The last time I was in the sea, the waves pushed me around like a bath toy.”
A smile flashed on her face. It was gone in a second, and I realized that none of the so-called Bloodroses smiled except Walsh. But even his felt fake as if he tried to sell us something we didn’t need.
“What do you do for fun?” I asked her.
She sought Walsh’s approval again. “We bake bread. We sew clothes. We tend the garden.”
All chores.
Before I could ask her another question, Walsh said, “Tell us news from the Citadel. Is Master Featherstone still First Magician or has some young hotshot passed the Master-level test?”
Wow. They’ve been out of the loop for at least five years. Leif filled him in on Roze Featherstone’s attempt to overthrow the Sitian Council with her Daviian Warpers. No one in the whole room said a word. Even Walsh remained silent for a few moments after Leif finished the story.
“My, my,” Walsh said. “And this…Soulfinder is a Zaltana? One of your cousins?”
“My sister,” Leif said.
“That’s impressive.” Walsh turned to me. “Were you there for the Warper Battle?”
“Not the battle, but I helped with the…cleanup.”
“How about you?” Walsh asked Skippy.
“No. I was on assignment in Fulgor.” Skippy sounded petulant, as if he’d rather have been at the battle.
“Lucky you,” Leif said. “It was close. Twelve magicians died fighting the Warpers.” His sobering words failed to change Skippy’s expression.
“Are you also a magician?” Walsh asked me.
“Yes.”
“Opal’s a glass magician,” Leif said. He pulled one of my messengers from his pocket.
The sea horse glowed with an inner blue fire. Its happy song vibrated in my chest.
“Interesting. What makes it shine?” Walsh asked.
At least he’d told the truth about being a magician.
“Magic,” Leif explained. “Trapped inside.”
Gia crinkled her forehead in confusion. “But I don’t see a light, Uncle.”
Fallon, his wife and other daughter couldn’t see it, either.
“Only magicians can see the glow. May I show it to the rest of your family?” Leif asked.