Mirror Bound Pt. 02

It's mostly your posture, the way you present yourself. You're so competent and controlled, you just cannot be a twenty-one year old male, the mind denies it.'

He wrapped me in his arms, and even his embrace was not that of a twenty-one year old boy with his first girl, but that of a man holding his wife. I decided not to think about it, it made me dizzy. Instead I asked: 'Do you plan to get that licence another day, or do you want to see if my folks are in right now, before we go to the council building? I think we can get there in twenty minutes with the bicycles. Are you up to such a ride?'

He replied: 'I think I am, shall we try? Breakfast first, though.'

Chapter 39

I dressed up for Paul, in the dark green dress that accentuated the colour of my hair, and I wore the copper horses over my perfect cleavage. Of course I left my hair loose, only tying the front part out of my face with a tiny bow in the back.

And after breakfast we did cycle to the house where I grew up, in another working-class neighbourhood, where people dried their laundry from their balconies, and where Paul padlocked our bicycles to a tree in front of my old home. We knocked, and both my parents were in, just awakened after a night shift.

They were very surprised to see me all of a sudden, but I think they were pleased. I said: 'Mum, dad, may I introduce you to Paul Kenwick, my landlord. He's asked me to come and work for him, we are going to design houses and utilities together. He's a master craftsman in fancy metalwork, and he invents useful machines.'

Paul shook hands with my dad and kissed my mother's hand very elegantly, saying: 'Mr and Mrs Thorn, I'm very pleased to meet you.' My mother, always the one in the family who kept up with the society news, replied: 'Very pleased to meet you Mr Kenwick. Any relation to the Kenwicks if I may ask?' Graciously he replied: 'Indeed I am, Mrs Thorn, they're my parents.

Even though my father seemed impressed by such a visitor in his humble home, he also looked a bit suspicious, but still he politely asked us in and offered us coffee.

As we sat at the kitchen table I looked at Paul but couldn't see any signs of discomfort from the ride and the hard chair.

My parents' house had not changed at all, still the same shabby but clean interior. The coffee wasn't half bad, and my mom's cookies were as good as ever. Paul seemed to enjoy himself, of course he had told me before he saw no class, and he proved it now, chatting with them about things most nobles didn't even know existed.

I'm sure my mum was thrilled by his company, such a handsome man with such good matters. But my dad kept a close eye on him, and I think Paul noticed. He asked, quite formally: 'Mr Thorn, do you think it is possible that we talk eye-to-eye for a few moments?' My dad clearly thought that was a good idea, and he invited Paul to the tiny balcony.

When they were out, my mum said: 'What a charming man, you have really struck good fortune having him as a landlord my girl.'

I laid my hand on hers, and said: 'He's not just my landlord, mum We have been seeing each other for several months now, and Paul has asked me to marry him, we're here to ask your consent.' This was quite a shock to her, but clearly not an unpleasant one.

She looked at me incredulously and said: 'A Kenwick wants to marry you, a working class girl? A gentleman from the most important family in the city? How can that be? You have no money, no name?'

'We're in love, mum, and besides, he's only a youngest son and he works as hard to make a living as I do,' I replied.

'Well, if you both want to, and you're really in love with him, I see no reason why you shouldn't get married, so you have my consent. A Kenwick, with my daughter, I still find that hard to believe.'

Paul and my father had returned, but there was still some mistrust in my father's demeanour, as if he had something on his liver but was reluctant to mention it.

Paul looked at him and said: 'Mr Thorn, you have given me your consent to marry Melissa, and yet I still see doubt written all over you. Won't you spill the beans? I may have a big name, but I work hard for a living, just like you.'

My dad spoke hesitantly: 'That's not it, son, there is a thing I want to discuss with you but dare not, not because your family could break a small man like me, but because no-one, not even your family dare speak of it where others can hear.'

This certainly intrigued me, and both Paul and my mum looked at him as if he'd grown wings. My mum said: 'Come on, Jakob, we're all family now, remember. You can't not trust your own son-in-law.' That decided him, and he said: 'You, young Kenwick, are a practising mage. I can see it, you glow with it. People in my circle told me the Kenwicks have always been mages, and I have always maintained that that is their own business.

But Melissa here is my daughter. She has had a little seed of magic in her since early childhood, but now she glows nearly as brightly as you do. Now you tell me honestly: do you really want to marry my daughter for herself, or do you just want to breed her magic into your family-line?'

The intense silence that followed this question was broken first by my lover, who managed to close his mouth and answer my father: 'Mr Thorn, I admit I practice magic, and that I have been teaching Melissa to control her awakening gift.

I also admit my family will accept her much more easily because of her talent. But I want to marry her because I love her with all my heart, because I want to share my life with her.

Not to please my family, who have given me less love in my ten years life with them than your Melissa has given me in the few months we have known each other

We have shared power, have shared minds. She knows my feelings for her, as I know hers.' I took his hand and squeezed it, and I saw my mum swallow, I don't know if she was touched by Paul's plea or afraid to have her husband found out as witch, though I hoped it was the first.

My father looked straight at me and bowed his head then looked at Paul again: 'In that case I wish you both the best of luck and happiness together.

And I insist you both visit a meeting to have yourselves shielded so you don't betray your power to every talented witch hunter you have the misfortune to cross paths with. Would this Friday suit you?'

Taken by surprise again, Paul looked at me and I nodded. It had bothered me from the start that anyone with sight would know we had magic.

Learning to hide that could possibly save our lives. I asked: 'Can we bring a friend?'

Dad replied: 'You can, if you can vouch for him.'

'I will,' was my only answer. We would meet at my parents' place, then accompany my father to one of the places where his circle convened. Paul thanked my father for the trust and the invitation, and added: 'We'll be getting our licence now, we'll have someone visit you to confirm your consent, and Friday you'll get an invitation for the real event, and of course your other daughters and their families as well.'

He shook hands with both my parents and I kissed my mum and dad goodbye, got their heartfelt well-wishes, and off we were.

Outside I said: 'Well, that was a surprise I had never expected to get. My father practising magic, and not wanting me to become a broodmare for your family. Are you holding up dearest? Not in pain?'

He looked at me, embraced me and kissed me saying: 'I'm very happy my love, your dad knowing about magic is kind of a relief for me. And you are right that hiding talent is priceless, especially for children not yet able to defend themselves.'

He unlocked the bicycles and we were off, another ten minutes to the council building, then to the town hall next to it, and ten minutes back to the house.

My boss, after taking a good though respectful look at my striking figure, took my resignation in stride, almost as if he was already expecting it.

There was no place to sit in the hall, so I had boldly taken Paul along, and my boss asked to be introduced: 'For I suppose this is the gentleman that you will be working with in the future.'

I was very surprised to say in the least, how could he have known?

Must be gossip from the contractors at the site. Still, I told him: 'Mr Millner, may I introduce you to Paul Kenwick, master-craftsman in metalwork and also inventor of useful conveniences. Paul, this is Mr Millner, chief of building safety for this part of our beautiful city.'

Paul bowed, still a bit stiffly I noticed, and said: 'Pleased to meet you sir, I'm sorry to rob you of one of your most valuable inspectors.'

Mr Millner replied graciously: 'Don't be sorry Mr Kenwick, I had a hunch she wasn't going to stay an inspector much longer. Her talents have developed so quickly, I knew she'd want more. I'm glad you'll be working together, I think you will complement each other very well.

Actually, I've heard of your necklace with life-like running horses from three different people, and three different accounts I may add. But it is even better seeing it in all its glory.'

This looking at the necklace. 'They really do seem to move, and the copper indeed matches Miss Thorn's hair perfectly.

But Mr Kenwick, I've also heard your name mentioned by a colleague from this very building, council member Telling mentioned it in connection with the exposure of the abuse of ten under-age children in the wool factory on this side of the river, and a nasty case of pollution of the river by the same factory, causing numerous deaths.

He seemed to also count on your help starting a boarding school for children from lower classes with special talents in rare professions, at that very site, I hear.

I think you will be a busy man, Mr Kenwick, and your beautiful partner here with you. I hope that you will listen to her as an equal, for we have found she is often right.'

Leaving Paul stunned with his deductive abilities, he turned to me and said: 'Miss Thorn, may I distract you from your tasks once in a while to do a final inspection of an especially sensitive project, for a very fine salary? Really short jobs, very well-paid, with a lot of responsibility, especially suited to your specific talents? Say once a month? It would provide you with a stable financial base.'

I nodded, speechless with the recognition I was receiving from all my former colleagues, and the prospect of doing the easy work for more money.

'I would be happy to, Mr Millner, just send someone over when you need me.'

After this, we took leave and went to the town hall next door. We did not have to wait, for Paul pulled rank shamelessly, using his name to gain us entrance to the office of the highest clerk in attendance.

Here, Paul could finally sit down for a moment in a comfortable chair, which he did with evident relief. We both signed a few forms, I wrote down the address of my parents, Paul paid a substantial sum, and we were out again with a licence.

He said apologetically: 'If I hadn't used my name there, they would have had us cooling our heels for hours, and I am feeling my back now. Cycling in the sunshine will do me good. This guy is from a family close to mine, so my parents will know I'm getting married within a few days. I wonder if they'll let me know they know.

Let's go home, dearest, I want to lie on that soft sofa with you running your hands through my hair.' He pedalled firmly and we were home quickly. I sent him upstairs to the sofa and put the bicycles away by myself. Then I went into the workshop, but Lukas was not there.

Chapter 40

Once in the house I found him there, waiting on Paul hand and foot. He had tea ready, and a nice lunch was nearly ready.

We ate in the living-room, Paul eating lying down like a Roman emperor. After half an hour he felt much better, for I had not only caressed his hair, but also massaged the stiffened muscles of his back until they were totally warm and supple again.

Now he was resting whilst Lukas and I cleared up the mess we had made having lunch, brewing a pot of coffee for our guests as well, and some tea for George in case he didn't dare try our coffee.

Before long we heard a carriage, and Lukas went upstairs towards the front door to receive his friend and teacher and our guest, as I brought the tea and coffee and cups into the living-room. Paul sat upright again, assuring me a bit of rest had done wonders.

Pretty soon our guests came in above us, and we could hear their admiring gasps, even though both of them were landed gentry, so they must have been used to having art and wealth around them. Apparently Paul's Gothic palace had that effect on all people, the sheer hours of work that had been put into it just blew the mind, and the total perfection of everything was a rarity even among the wealthy.

George greeted me cordially, shaking hands and hugging me, and when he turned to Paul he was really affected again.

'Paul my boy, why have I never seen this before? This looks like the work of a lifetime, but I'm sure you've only lived here for three years,' he said, kneeling down before Paul to hug him without Paul having to get up.

A shadow of pain flew over my lover's face as he hugged George, just before he looked George in the eye and answered seriously: 'It is because I never invited you, George. And I did the work of a lifetime in three years because I never entertained. But that is all going to change.'

And with that remark he looked straight at me and smiled.

Then he turned his attention to the council member, a tall, broad man, a bit overweight with a full round face and a receding hairline, a very imposing figure that radiated authority and to me, power. He was not handsome, but he dressed fashionably, and he had a friendly appearance despite his aura of power.

I guessed he was a decade or two younger than Sir Nomes, say thirtyish, and he was admiring the house as much as George was, talking to Lukas about it.

Lukas of course presented his usual striking figure, in company of nobility he automatically transformed from the rakish boy into a noble diplomat.

Our guest was obviously impressed by his manners, and treated him with the utmost respect, though as a mage he must have sensed something of Lukas' alienness with his sight.

Now George got up from Paul's side and introduced his two fellow mages to one another: 'Tristan, may I introduce Paul Kenwick to you, master mage in the guardian tradition, master craftsman in fancy metalwork and anything else he sets his mind to, as you can witness in this little palace, inventor, and dear to me as a son.

Paul, may I introduce Tristan Telling to you, adept in the ancient art of high magick, and member of the city council. He has authority over city planning, and he has a proposition for the factory site. Tristan, you know about Paul's injury, I suppose he's not getting up to greet you.'

They shook hands cordially, Paul remaining seated, and Mr Telling said: 'You have an absolutely beautiful house, Mr Kenwick, did you really craft everything in here by yourself, within three years?'

Paul replied: 'I did indeed, but at that time I had little life, so to speak. May I introduce you to the people who have given that to me lately?'

He started with me: 'Mr Telling, this is my apprentice in the arts, Miss Melissa Thorn, a qualified engineer and my business partner as well as my beautiful intended. Melissa, Mr Telling is an adept in high magick, a form of magic as ancient as the Arthurian legends. It is very powerful, and being an adept he has reached the pinnacle of his arts. Besides being a council member that is.'

Mr Telling laughed at this description of his achievements, and shook my hand, saying: 'Miss Thorn, I've heard of your work as a building inspector, but I never realized you studied the arts as well.

And no-one ever mentioned your surpassing beauty, though they did mention your copper necklace with moving horses. It is as beautiful as you, a work of great art.'

I curtsied, and dared comment: 'Word sure gets around in the council building! It must be the excellent coffee drawing everyone to Mr Millner's office to share the news.'

This got a laugh from Mr Telling and then Paul introduced Lukas with his real name: 'Mr Telling, you've already met my apprentice in the mundane arts, Lykos Hermeides, who is also George's apprentice in the less mundane arts and a healer of great talent.

He calls himself Lukas here, but his original descent is Greek. Lukas, Mr Telling is our best hope of preventing situations like the wool factory in the future.

Mr Telling, Lukas has been bearing the brunt of the harm done by the black mage operating in the factory, having healed not only my near-fatal wound, but also the mental trauma of children the mage drained of magical energy then dumped in the wasteland neighbouring his factory.

There were ten captive in his building, but there were ten more children roaming that desolate place for two years, with no memory of who they were, where they were and how they got there.

Lukas has treated three so far, but it is hard on him, being confronted with those horrible memories again and again. And it drains him at a rate that no apprentice can keep up with, so we supply him with power in turns.'

Of course as a mage, Mr Telling knew what that meant, and I saw him eye all of us speculatively, though not in a disapproving way, and he observed: 'Mr Hermeides, you speak English like a native, and your manners are upper class, yet I hear you are from Greece, and though my vision shows me a well-dressed elegant young man, my sight tells me you're not entirely human. May I ask an elaboration?'

With his polished manners, Lukas invited both gentlemen to take a seat and accept a cup of coffee or tea, and then he sat down himself and said: 'You are an astute observer, Mr Telling, and I have no problem explaining.

I'm what your ancient Greeks called a satyr, I used to have a set of beautiful horns, and my shoes are clamped around my hoofs. My origins lie in a world much like ancient Greece, where my people occupy the coastlines of that worthy state.

My father is an important noble there, and I worked as a herald for another such personage, which is where I acquired my polish. My talent awakened after I was kidnapped and escaped through a portal that led me here by accident.

Melissa and Paul have taken me in and taught me your language and metal working skills, and George is helping me to develop my healing gift. I am probably stuck in this world, but I don't mind, I'm at home now.'

Even for an experienced and high-ranking mage that was a big pill to swallow, I could see Mr Telling struggling with the implications.

That was when George took the lead, saying: 'I'm sure we'll meet often, and we will have plenty of time then to talk of other things than business. But I have fifteen traumatised children in my home, and my wife wants Lukas and someone to feed him magic over there an hour ago.

Besides that, Paul still has a fresh bullet-wound and he may need to rest again soon, so let us get to the point now, and socialise later. If that is all right with all of you?'

All parties nodded. George said formally: 'Tristan, with the introductions behind us I give you the floor.'

And Mr Telling started speaking: 'We have had our suspicions about that wool factory and its owner for half a year now.

The wasteland had been there since the factory was built, and we knew there were some destitute children out there, but to be honest, we see those everywhere in the city. But half a year ago it suddenly vanished from sight, and a black mage started to get active in the city.

Our guess is, that he already stole magic from talented children and dumped the burned out ones in the wasteland, but that he did not accumulate the energy yet. Once he tried to pool the stolen energy he needed to hide his activities with stolen faerie souls, and that is when we got suspicious.