Yesterday's Prince

16: The Swamp: Septimus

"Caterhollow Mountains," Septimus muttered. "Named, presumably, for those wild mountain cats you've mentioned."

Brinn grinned and said, "How did you know? They're the northern tip of the downs. Taller, rougher, but the same difference. The Tohonas are different. Wild. You'll see."

Septimus groaned, tilting his head back to look up at the stars. The constellation of Pthronga, the smith, was out tonight. Beside him were is trusty hounds, and he worked Arskenjger, his bellows. Three of the five Little Sisters could be seen, eternally running from Bjorn the Bear. Then, there was the Lover's Cross, which always looked like a kite, Septimus thought, and not a cross at all.

"You've lived out in the wilds, so this doesn't bother you," Septimus said. "It's savage. And the trees are already making me paranoid. Look at them, casting all these shadows."

Brinn glanced over his shoulder. She whispered, "Some could be lurking in them."

Septimus glared at her. "I know too much about things that lurk for that to be funny," he said.

"Some of the soldiers said they saw fae or heard goblins, but things that love wild magic don't come near humans bristling with that much metal," Brinn said, pulling out a necklace with a fat-faced iron disk handing from it. She fingered it before letting it drop back onto her chest.

"We wizards don't know much about fae," Septimus said. "I'm curious, did you meet any of the swamp people? I heard they practice magic like the fae do. They don't write things down, though, or at least not any titles I've seen. You'd be surprised how much of the writing that wizards have on fae is garbage. It's because they don't have an alphabet. We've no way of knowing how they practice magic."

Brinn cocked an eyebrow. "Hariold bless me! There's something wizards don't know!"

"I know," Septimus said, tapping the gouge on his map, "that fae are involved in this. My mark points to fae country, and I've heard of how they steal children, how they can use glamour."

"It's not a glamour," Brinn said tersely. She folded her hands up, putting them under her chin. "Fae fear iron, and Uther doesn't. We had an iron fence and wards set up at our camp, and he passed right through. That doesn't even take into account the gates at Copper Downs. They're warded against fae as well and the arch way has every conceivable metal they could work in it. It would be impassable to them."

Septimus arched an eyebrow. He said, "I didn't know you knew all of that. Yes, that's exactly how the archways all throughout Copper Downs were built. They're to keep out fae, and even if one got in, they'd have to continue passing through warded archways."

"Pretty bright for a wood rat," Brinn said, grinning. The fire began to die out, and Septimus scanned the darkness. They could be being watched, he thought. Many animals were nocturnal, giving the night many eyes.

"How come you're the only wizard who thinks something's wrong?" Brinn asked him. Her face knitted up, and she'd fixed him with an intense stare. Septimus pulled himself further into his cloak.

"I could ask you the same thing, minus the wizard part," Septimus said, meeting Brinn's gaze. She turned away, looking out into the night, where the moon light created an inkblot maze of shadows.

"The morning I failed to apprehend Arniel Gains wasn't right," Brinn said, speaking slowly. "I came back to camp, abject in failure, and Uther said it was okay. He'd said Arniel would die in the wilderness, but if we moved now, we could finish off Arniel's army. I asked him if we shouldn't look for Cyrus...look for his body.

"Uther said there was no time. He said ending the war was what Cyrus would've wanted, which is true. We both wanted that and were pig-minded about it. I was...I couldn't figure out what was wrong until you came to me. Uther would never have done that. He would've stopped the campaign to find Cyrus. It's why he needed us. He's not a warrior, he's soft-hearted. More like you."

"Thanks," Septimus said dryly. "The wizards' have another name for it: weak-willed. I don't have the money to be a scholar of leisure, like Mathius, and I've got no patron to support my studies. I'm a tradesman to them. That's how they judge you."

He stopped his rant, sucking in a breath of chilly air. Brinn gave him the most intense stare he'd ever received in his life, and he'd locked gazes with wizards.

"Fae magic is frightening," Brinn said, her voice strong soft and taunt like a bow string. "They're out there, luring the unsuspecting to them. I half don't believe they're involved because we were well protected. I know how to keep fae away. Don't go out during twilight. Always wear iron. Don't trust beguiling strangers or listen to fair songs. And don't ever make a deal with one. If it were fae, don't you think the other wizards would have noticed something?"

"That's something weighing on me," Septimus said. "I can't see how it could be anything else but fae. Whatever magic brought Uther back wrong is powerful. There are so many fae we don't know about. We don't know much about the swamp people, either. They practice wild magics. Maybe they did something."

"Odd that we didn't see many," Brinn said, stifling a yawn. "We found some sites where it looked like they'd lived, but they were all gone when we'd gone through. Of course, we didn't cross over Raincloud Pass to the other side of Skylark. There's a chance they'd moved on."

Septimus rested his chin on his knees and stared into the coals. There were things that didn't add up, he thought. Little details in Brinn's story that he knew she might've not realized. The entire situation with Arniel, being found already bound and then mysteriously escaping felt...off. This new, powerful magic that changed Uther, yet no wards stopped it, no one could detect it.

No one but you, he thought. He knew something was wrong.

"I know Uther," Septimus said aloud, pulling himself free from his spiraling introspection.

"Hmm?"

"That's how I knew," Septimus said. "I know my friend. That wasn't him. That arrogance, the way he just didn't care...it wasn't him. I used magic to confirm it, but I knew at the ball. Uther is somewhere else, but he's not whoever is ruling in Copper Downs."

"I believe you, Septimus Stares," Brinn said, stretching out and standing up to sleep. "That's why I'm here with you."

"Thanks," Septimus said. "I hope I'm a good enough wizard to—"

Then, something lurking in the shadows did move.

(Note: Once again, thanks for reading. This week was super busy, so I haven't gone back and updated the typos/mistakes in some of the older chapters yet.)