Chapter 12

“You did what?” Saratin was staring at Lasser with wide eyed disbelief.
“I gave Prince Orin a quest.”
“Do you realize what sort of precedent you’ve set? Now every time a new ruler assumes the throne, they’re going to want a quest.”
“I couldn’t exactly just tell them no,” Lasser said as he picked up an apple from the fruit basket on Saratin’s table.
“Yes, you can. You’re a Great Mage. You’ve been one for twenty years now. You can tell people no. It’s easy. ‘N,’ ‘O,’ No.”
Lasser cast a casual glance around the heaps of paperwork littering Saratin’s well used study. Knowing Saratin, he could locate anything he wanted at any time, but to Lasser it looked like a disorganized mess.
“When was the last time you said no to someone?” Lasser asked. Saratin sighed again. It was a common sight. The hem of his cassock rose two inches before sinking down with his shoulders. Saratin was still the only Great Mage that felt comfortable in robes. Lasser only wore them when he visited the court. They tended to take him more seriously that way than dressed as a common forest ranger, his preferred mode of dress.
“At least you could have given him something manageable. Prince Orin, despite his appearance, will make an excellent king. He’s level headed, charitable, and very knowledgeable, thanks to his mother.”
“Like you?” Lasser smiled, for a moment before becoming serious again. “I just figured that if we were looking for these seeds, the more the merrier. He can go one direction, and we can go the other.”
“And which direction did he go?”
“I…” Lasser took a large bite of his apple. He nearly choked in his haste.
“You don’t know. So you sent the one and only son of the king on a nearly impossible quest all alone.”
“Oh, trust me, he’s not alone. I made sure of that. Besides, how hard can it be to find a few trees?”
“I’ve been studying all the references I can find. There are very few mentions of even the Calca tree, and none of the others. It could take them months or years to find one.”
“The prince is young, and his mother is still in very good health. He’s got time. Besides, once we find the trees ourselves, I can easily guide him to it and give him a helping hand.”
“Assuming we find the trees ourselves,” Saratin said, turning back to his book.
“We don’t have many options. If the Calca tree dies, we go too. I’m not so afraid of dying anymore… I’d just rather it happened sooner rather than later.”
Saratin nodded and waved him off. It was time for Lasser to meet the others in the quad anyway. He chose to walk, nodding to the brothers who were industriously working on the paperwork Trevelyn and Saratin insisted on creating for each person helped. Lasser felt no need to create a paper trail, and often got stern looks from Trevvie as he absently turned someone from green to peach on his way out of town.
Lasser had no pack. Anything he needed simply appeared through magic though he kept his bow and knife close to him for comfort. He’d grown up with them and used them like extensions of his own body. He’d tried to do without for a long while in the city, but the uneasy feeling of something missing always conquered him.
“You’re late,” Iber called to him. He was leaning on a statue watching Lasser as he approached.
“I didn’t know I was late.”
“Great Mages hardly ever do things in a timely manner, or so I’m told. I suppose it’s the drawback of being immortal,” Iber straitened up. He too had packed lightly for the trip. He didn’t even have his sword, just his fall coat unbuttoned over his frilly shirt and tight trousers. It was dressing down for Iber, but still not as heinous as current court fashions which made Lasser want to giggle every time he went.
“All the time in the world does make the ‘to do’ list a little harder to do. Where’s Malek?”
“Oh, he’s late too.”
“Am not,” Malek said from behind him. “And I’ve got a slight problem. You haven’t by chance seen my son, have you?”
“And why would I have seen Masonae? I’ve been busy with the court problems.”
“He’s on his way here.”
Lasser and Iber both stared at Malik incredulously.
“I thought he couldn’t get here,” Lasser said, knowing that in Masonae’s case, all roads did lead home.
“Not if he takes a road. But he left yesterday… and hasn’t come back.”
“Then he knows?” Iber asked.
“Or is highly suspicious. I wanted to tell him a year ago.”
Mitty would have stopped him. She was slightly overprotective where the boy was concerned. Lasser had spent many nights in the forests and fields, teaching Masonae some of the skills he’d learned as a ranger. He was smart, and picked up the life like a natural. Lasser had thought for a while it was a shame that his parents chose to hide the life they led from him. They weren’t normal, and he could probably instinctively feel that he was not normal either.
“He’ll be all right,” Lasser said.
“You try telling Mitty that.”
“I’m sure Saratin will keep an eye out for him here,” Iber said. “We’ve got to get going, or we’ll never leave. Something will always come up, and we really have no way of knowing how much time we have before we start fading the way the old mages did.”
“Lead the way,” Malek said. “Which way do we start?”
“Well, assuming Prince Orin went the way nearest them, they went south or west,” Lasser said.
“So we should go north or east.” Malek grabbed a coin from his pocket and flipped it. The coin spun high in the air before dropping with a clink on the ground. It rolled for a moment before getting stuck edgewise between two flag stones.
Lasser shrugged at fate. “Northeast, it is.”