The Way Out (6)

An open fire crackled, and I squinted through tear-wet eyes at the dancing light.

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I'd been crying. My father's fault, of course. I was ten years old. Young enough to still want his love and kindness. Too young to understand why I didn't have it.

Wrapped in Mother's arms, in her blankets, in her chambers, in her private tower of the house. An open fire crackled, and I squinted through tear-wet eyes at the dancing light.

"Do you want to move beside the fire?" Mother cooed. There's no other way to describe it. A soothing tone that somehow inspired utter peace and complete compliance. I later came to believe it was a secret art that I never had a chance to learn from her.

I nodded. Of course I did. Mother wanted to move beside the fire. She loved fire. So I loved fire too. I could sit beside her for hours watching the dancing flames, and, later, the glistening ribbons of ruddy light among the embers.

She dragged the two chairs closer to the fire, and beckoned me over with a smile. Her eyes always cheered me. They were always filled with love when she looked at me. I couldn't help but smile back. 

"I hate him," I muttered. 

"Even so," she said, "you must show him due respect in his presence, and obey him to the letter for as long as he lives." I didn't notice anything unusual about her choice of words.

I protested that I did respect and obey him.

She laughed, a gentle, musical sound. "Perhaps you think you do, but he doesn't. Your life would be much easier if you could convince him of your loyalty and obedience."

I turned to the fire. "I don't want to."

"Neither do I, but I do it anyway, for you."

I turned back to her. "For me?"

"Who else? I wish to be a part of your life for as long as I can. I wish you to carry the memory of me with you forever. I wish you to be able to thrive without my presence. I want you to be strong. I want you to succeed in this game."

I had too many questions. "Game?"

"Of your father's. His need to be right. His need to be in control. His need to save face. You'll find a way to play his game that keeps him happy, but it must also be a way that satisfies some deep part of you."

I didn't understand this either. But I had a more pressing question from what she'd said before. "Are you going away? Are you going to die?"

She looked into the fire now, and didn't reply for some time. "We shall all die, in our time. Some sooner than others." She didn't specify who might fall into each category. But she knew I just wanted her assurance. "I shall live for a good many years yet, I'm certain of it. You mustn't fear that. But ..."

I thought she was considering what to tell me, how much of the truth to tell me.

Eventually, she continued. "I shall leave long before I die. But not before you are ready to live here without me." She locked her eyes on mine. "When you are older, when you are almost a man, you won't need me to dry your tears or bring you cheer. When I leave, you will be old enough, and strong enough, to manage without me."

Tears threatened to return.

"No, no. I didn't mean to upset you. I will endure here for some years yet. Don't fret. Don't think about it too much. But when the time comes, you will remember today, I'm sure of it."

"I want to go too!"

"I know you do. And maybe one day you will follow me."

"How can you possibly get away? Father knows everything!"

"Your father knows a lot, certainly. He sits on the Mage Circle, and so he knows, or can know, exactly who crosses the city Boundary, and when. Even if I farsended away, he would find me, thanks to the Boundary magic. And if I farsended across the national Boundary, or the Kinnon Boundary, he would find me just as easily, in just the same way. So even walking through the city gates wouldn't help me at all." 

She gave me the slightest smirk. I knew she was hiding something, but also that she was about to reveal it. My hopes soared with expectation and excitement.

"Maybe you are too young ... " she teased, in a tone that told me it was a tease. 

"I'm old enough, Mother! I am!"

She seemed to appraise me, like I was a market hen. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you are old enough. But you must promise that this is our secret, that you will never tell a soul, and never let your father even suspect its existence. Do you understand?"

I nodded, as solemnly as I could muster. "I give you my oath."

She grinned. "Excellent. Then I'll tell you. Are you ready?"

I laughed. She was stringing this out on purpose. "Mother!"

"Very well, I'll tell you. There is a way."

"A way?"

"A way out of the city, a way without chance of detection. And if your father finds it he will surely seal it. We need to keep this secret for ourselves, and for future generations, to protect those future heroes from people like your father."

I nodded. "I understand."

And then she told me exactly how to find the ancient crevice below the foundation stones that Ambereyon the Wise had not seen when building the Boundary. A small way, but a way. Out to the port. And from the port, out to sea, out into the world, and to freedom.

Continue reading with Part 7 - The Seal of All Circles.