Sibyl walked Elsie back into the room and ushered her to sit on a bench near the window. Elsie clung to her mother and cried into her shoulder. One loud sob was punctuated by an invisible gust that had Sibyl flinching away, some of her hair flying loose from her netted cap.

Elsie’s power pushed through the room. Rick heard a clatter from behind him and turned to see that a candle had fallen onto a cloth table runner. He rushed to retrieve the candle and pat out the small fire, cursing quietly

When he turned back, Elsie was looking at him. Her eyes were rimmed red, and her brow was furrowed. She looked confused more than anything.

“Henry said she could control it,” Rick said.

Sibyl glared at him.

Rick rolled his eyes and looked down at the candle, turning it over and over in his hands. There was no soft wax dripping down the sides, so it must not have been lit a moment ago. If he set it down, who’s to say Elsie wouldn’t light it again?

She had quieted, but still made little hiccuping gasps, like she was ready to stop crying but didn’t know how.

Rick hadn’t meant anything by it. He just wanted to know why she couldn’t control it now.

“You know my father?” Elsie asked.

Rick smiled, trying to look friendly, and said, “Yeah. It’s been a while, Elsie. I’m your uncle Rick. You probably don’t remember me.”

“He’s your father’s brother,” Sibyl offered.

Elsie’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I’ve heard of you.”

That startled a laugh out of Rick. Sibyl looked abashed at least, and didn’t try to shush her daughter. Rick started fiddling with the candle again.

“Did something bad happen today?” Rick glanced at Sibyl’s face and added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Elsie sniffed and shook her head. “Mateus was trying to talk to me.”

Rick didn’t know anyone by that name, but it sounded kind of familiar. Some old king? Someone far-off he had to read about as a child, probably.

Sibyl rubbed Elsie’s back soothingly and asked, “What did he say?”

“He said he’s looking for Shera. He got mad because I didn’t know who she was.”

“You spoke to him?” Sibyl looked at Rick, alarmed.

This meant nothing to Rick, but Sibyl filled him in. “Mateus is the one Count Seymour is looking for,” she said. “He was a king who ruled from beyond the march.”

The march spanned the wide border between human and elven territory. Elven incursions across the march used to be common. A few hundred years ago, their domain had suddenly collapsed.

“You talk to elves?” Rick asked. “But there aren’t any elves.” Elves could live a long time, sure, but they were long gone.

“Seymour says he’s not an elf,” Elsie said sharply, as if to prove him wrong. Like that was possible. Any man who lived in the elven domain would have died years ago. The marquess guarded the border and would have alerted the king of any activity. It had been quiet for centuries.

“A human king, then? Does the marquess know about this?”

“Maybe,” Elsie said in the same know-it-all tone.

So much for Elsie being a quiet child. She wasn’t shy about fighting for her imaginary friend. Her imaginary friend who made her cry, Rick recalled. Still, arguing with Rick seemed to be a good distraction for her.

“What does Count Seymour want with him?” Rick asked.

“His magic. Mateus is really strong.”

“I thought you were the strongest.” Rick was teasing, but Elsie’s face fell. Rick thought he might have made her cry again.

Elsie looked down at her lap. “Mateus knows how to use it. I’m… no good at it.”

“Mateus still lives, Rick,” Sibyl said. “Seymour says he was sealed away, probably right before the collapse.”

“Behind a veil,” Elsie chimed in. “Some mean lady put him there. He’s stuck, but I’m supposed to help him come back.”

——

As he was leaving, Sibyl pulled him aside and asked him to take Elsie away from the castle, back to her father. She said he’d know what to do. He told her he’d think about it.

He didn’t want to. He found it hard to believe that a little girl hearing voices in her head was a danger to anyone, but Sibyl had looked positively ashen when Elsie revealed that she was able to communicate with Mateus. She had never asked Rick for anything before though, and that alone was enough to make him worry.

Rick began to wonder how much the king really knew about Seymour’s research. He sought out Captain Edmond to speak to him in private. That didn’t work, so Rick tried a more direct approach.

“Do you believe him? That he can help Elsie keep her powers in check?” Rick asked.

“Heavens, Rick, really? Here?” Edmond’s eyes darted around the dining room, where he had just sat down to dinner. There were a few soldiers at another table playing cards, but no one was close enough to overhear them.

“Where did this come from?” Edmond asked, either satisfied that they would not be overheard or just resigned.

“Do you know what Elsie’s doing? Who she’s talking to?”

“She has been instructed to listen to a skilled mage,” Edmond said carefully. “Who can she learn control from, if not him?”

“A foreign conqueror is going to help a little girl stop blowing papers off of desks?” Rick hissed. “Count Seymour is so devoted to that cause?”

Edmond seemed unmoved. Rick hung his head, hands clasped as he sat hunched over the table.

“It frightens her,” Rick said quietly. “But she’s going to help him anyway. You’re a fool to believe this will end well.”

Edmond didn’t reply. They both sat in silence until Edmond finished his dinner.

“Good night, Rick,” Edmond said, then stood and left.