“You are not allowed to leave at all,” Lady Avelyere replied.
Catti-brie turned to face her directly. “I want to see my Ma,” she said.
“Your mother is fine, and of no concern to you.”
There was little severity in Avelyere’s tone, but Catti-brie knew enough to make it seem so, and thus, she began to weep, and wail, “I want my Ma!” repeatedly.
Lady Avelyere moved right beside her and to Catti-brie’s surprise, embraced her and hugged her close. A moment later, the diviner dropped into a crouch and looked Catti-brie directly in the eye, brushing her reddish-brown hair back tenderly.
“I know the secret of Niraj and Kavita,” she said quietly. “They are outlaws, upon my word, and the Twelve Princes of Shade Enclave will not deal with them mercifully, should they ever learn the truth.”
Catti-brie cried all the louder and fell into Lady Avelyere’s embrace, whispering still, “I want to see my Ma.”
After a long while, Lady Avelyere pushed the young girl back to arms’ length. “You meant to become a bird and fly to the Desai,” she stated.
“Just for a bit,” a sniffling Catti-brie assured her. “I meant to be back before dawn.”
“Why should I believe you? You wish to escape.”
“No, Ladyhe had returned to Faerunan;font-weight: bold;line-height: 1.3em;margin-top: 3emim, never!” Catti-brie insisted with all the diplomacy she could muster-it helped that she was speaking truthfully.
“Then leave this place in the morning, forevermore,” Lady Avelyere said suddenly, spinning away. “Be gone from me, never to return!”
“No, Lady, please! No!” Catti-brie pleaded. “Then I won’t go at all. I want to see my Ma, but not to leave this place! Never to leave this place! I learn so much here! Rhyalle is my sister now!” She kept her voice on the edge of panic, playing the part of a little girl, and Lady Avelyere’s smile back at her in response to those words showed to be a look of sympathy and not distrust.
“I am going back to bed now,” she said after a bit. “I expect you awake and alert in the morning.” She spun on her heel and started away.
Catti-brie caught the implicit permission that she could go, but just as she started to begin her spell anew, she realized that the child, Ruqiah, would likely miss that subtlety.
“I may go, then, Lady?” she asked, all filled with hope and bubbling gratitude.
“Child, I will see you in the morning,” came the answer, but then Lady Avelyere stopped suddenly and spun around, looking fierce once more. “And if not, then know that your parents will suffer the consequences of their crimes.” With that, she was gone.
Catti-brie stood on the wall for a long while, trying to make sense of the encounter. Avelyere was letting her fly away, but to what end? Did she expect a more devoted student because she would allow this transgression, or was it perhaps the simple truth that this accomplished Netherese woman was not a merciless beast?
The latter, Catti-brie, decided, even when a flash of terror crossed her mind in the fleeting thought that Avelyere was teasing her.
She became a bird and flew away, and found soon after that her fears were unfounded, that Niraj and Kavita were safe in their tents, though certainly not “fine,” as Avelyere had insisted. Nay, they were distraught, mourning the loss of their beloved daughter.
How abruptly that changed when Ruqiah appeared before them! Changed in the flash of smiles, in the warmth of hugs, and in her assurances that all was well, and all would remain well.
The next morning, Catti-brie was hard at work on her studies when Lady Avelyere came to her again and pulled her aside.
“You have expectations to fulfill,” she explained to the child. “Goals to meet, and I will hear no excuses when you fail me. You may go and visit your parents, once a tenday, but only on condition that you do not disappoint me.”
Catti-brie couldn’t contain her smile, and it truly surprised her, yet again, at how much she wanted to play her childhood games with Niraj, and how badly she wanted Kavita to brush her thick hair and tell her tales of the Bedine, of her ancestors who were not even really her ancestors. Somehow that particular truth of her heritage didn’t seem to matter.
She promised Lady Avelyere that she would be the best student the diviner had ever known, and she meant it sincerely, for all the reasons she had returned to Faerun, and also out of sincere gratitude for this extraordinary gesture. She would meet and exceed every expectation put before her.
The Year of the Dark Circle (1478 DR) Shade Enclave
The small flicker of flame flew out from the young woman’s hand, into the midst of her orc enemies, and there exploded into a fireball, immolating the group.
Her blue eyes squinting against the glare, the sorceress mentally reached into that fire and brought forth a sprite of flame, a living ally fashioned of the fiery element. The sorceress only focused on it for a moment, binding the flames, creating the sprite, and then she turned aside. But the sprite knew what to do, and leaped and skipped across the rooftop, leaving a line of wisps of smoke and sparkles before springing into the chest of the next nearest orc.
The sorceress turned left and swept her arms down and across from left to right, and as if she had thrown forth flaming liquid, a line of fire rushed along the edge of the roof, sealing that flank with a wall of hot-burning flames.
She kept turning left, ducking and spinning, then coming up fast to meet the approach of a handful of orcs. Her thumbs together, her fingers spread wide, she called forth her fourth spell, and a fan-shaped sheet of flames flew out over the enemies. The sorceress dropped low, as if to avoid any swings or thrusts, and kicked out with one foot into the knee of the nearest orc, just for good measure, and just because she enjoyed the sensation of a physical strike.
A slow clapping sound began behind her, from the doorway of this one flat rooftop in the Coven.
Catti-brie stood upright, straightened her clothes, took a deep breath, and slowly turned to face Lady Avelyere.
“An interesting display,” the diviner said. “You fancy yourself a battle-mage?”
Catti-brie stumbled a bit. “I … I like to be prepared.”
“For battle.”
“Yes.”
“You understand that you live in a city, surrounded by your sisters in the Coven and the forces of Netheril? An unparalleled city guard and the great Twelve Princes?”
Catti-brie lowered her gaze. She had expected something along these lines, given Avelyere’s tone and rather sour expression. A sudden pop from the side startled her as the flames biting at one of the orc training dummies found some life in an air pocket, or a bit of sap in the wooden base pole, perhaps.
“You’ll spend far more time in social gatherings than on battlefields,” Lady Avelyere remarked, moving over to join her. “You will find your missions in service to the Coven more those of information gathering and coercion, as I have repeatedly told you.”
“Yes, Lady,” she said. “I practice those spells as well …” As she finished, Lady Avelyere cupped her by the chin and forced her head up that they could look each other in the eye.
“Dear Ruqiah, what is this fascination you have with flame?”
Catti-brie licked her lips, honestly considering the question, for in truth, she had wondered that herself. Of all the schools of arcane magic available to her in her training, she admittedly found herself most comfortable with, and most proficient with, those of evocation, shaping spells of explosive and deadly force. And of those many spells, she did indeed fancy those concerned with the element of fire-at least for her arcane studies. She already knew how to bring down a bolt of lightning, after all, and had been able to do that with lethal force since her earliest days. Indeed, ten years had passed since she had killed two Netherese agen a long while to realizeju;font-weight: bold;line-height: 1.3em;margin-top: 3emimts with such a bolt from the cloudy heavens above.