33 Dream

Elloreah found herself at the doorway of Aleric's study. She lingered there, as she often did, waiting for him to notice her before she dared to disturb him.

Hunched over his work table, a collection of old tomes spread across his desk, he jotted down notes with the fervor of one possessed. Minutes passed and he showed no signs of stopping. She took a deep breath, raising her hand to rap lightly on the doorway, bracing herself for the inevitable hostile reaction to her intrusion.

The light, tap ta-tap tap rang over the scratching of the quill on paper and his head shot up, dark, piercing eyes alighting on her with furrowed brow intensity. He snapped the books shut, one after another and stood, pushing his chair back with such ferocity that it clattered to the ground. The sound of it resonated painfully loud through the small, stone walled space.

"What?" he snapped, hand placed protectively on one of the books as she winced at the tone of her voice.

"I had hoped you would join us for dinner. There are some men from the capitol...."

His expression of anger and irritation tightened into a neutral mask. He turned away from her and bent to pick up the fallen chair. By the time he had straightened again, he was tucking in his shirt and running his hands over his long hair, smoothing the hairs that had escaped from their bindings.

"Of course," he said, a tight smile stretched across his refined features. "Do let them know that I will be there shortly. I will be just be a moment, but first I must straighten this mess. Put my notes in order."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, taking a hesitant step forward.

"No," he snapped. Then the tight smile returned, "No, please, attend to our guests." He stepped forward, taking her by the shoulder, studying her briefly before reaching up to make an adjustment to her hair and then picking a few stray pieces of lint and horsehair from her blouse. He raised a brow when he held up the horsehair.

"I should hope you were not out in the stable in your finery," he said, stepping back from her to glance down at her shoes.

She shook her head. "No, of course not. It must have transferred from my work clothes. I will be sure to be more careful next time."

He nodded. "Go on, then. I am sure Marian is being her charming self and representing the estate in an appalling manner. Next time, send one of the boys down after me for this sort of matter. I would rather know you are attending to our guests."

She bowed her head slightly before turning to leave. "Of course." It pained her to not be able to tell him how she felt. That she wished he would spend less time in this hideaway, that he had changed and it worried her.

She paused just down the hall, deciding that next time, she would tell him. Next time she would find out what it was that he was working so feverishly on.

She rubbed at her arm absently, feeling the corded knot of scar tissue around her upper right arm and the metal embedded there. She sighed, knowing that whatever it was that he was doing had something to do with magic that had saved her arm.

He'd bade her to keep it secret, to keep it hidden, and she had. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder why. If he was able to do what even the healers had been unable to, why he would not share this knowledge with others?

She would find out.

Just not now. Not with representatives of the Capitol in attendance. Raising her chin, she proceeded on to attend to her guests.

***

"Hey, we're here," Mingan shook her lightly by the shoulder.

Elloreah woke with a gasp. She blinked and stared ahead, her mind fuzzy. There was a moment of disorientation, but it didn't take long to come into herself, to come to terms with the fact that she was here. She was in a truck, with John and Mingan.

She sat up straight and glanced around. They were still moving, the land flat, with only a few rolling hills ahead. The landscape hadn't changed much in the last two hours. It was mostly a patchwork of farm land, dotted by the occasional stand of old trees.

Directly ahead on the road was a sprawling ranch house with a circular drive. Though she wasn't overly fond of the architecture of the region, even she knew to be impressed by this place.

"That is where we are going?" she asked, leaning forward to get a better look through the windshield.

"Yes," Mingan replied. "Alistair's ranch palace. It'll take a few minutes to get up the drive. Just thought you'd want that time to wake up."

She nodded, shaking free the lingering unease from the dream. She rubbed at her arm absently, wondering if either John or Mingan had noticed the strange magic embedded there. Neither of them had mentioned it. Perhaps it was still hidden, that the magic that hid it hadn't dissolved as her other protections and glamour had.