Counsel of the Wicked: Rebel Mage, #1

By Elizabeth Schechter

Matthias has spent his whole life on the edge of a very small world. The bastard child of a fallen woman, he's known nothing but judgment and hatred from the harsh, religious people of his enclave—except for Balthazar. The son and heir of the High Elder, Balthazar shows Matthias kindness, love... and desire. But when the High Elder discovers what his son has been doing, Matthias is arrested and sent to an isolated prison known as the School. There, and in the wastelands beyond, Matthias learns the secrets behind the hypocrisies of the Council of Elders, and his true heritage, true power, and true love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Schechter
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781952598388

Elizabeth Schechter

Elizabeth Schechter has been called one of the top erotica and alternative sexuality writers in the world. Her writing credits include the award-winning steampunk erotic romance House of Sable Locks, the Celtic fantasy Princes of Air, and 2021 VIVIAN finalist Written in Water. She was born in New York at some point in the past. She is officially old enough to know better, but refuses to grow up. She lives in Central Florida with her husband and son. Elizabeth can be found online at http://elizabethschechterwrites.com, or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Elizabeth.A.Schechter. You can also find her on Patreon, at https://www.patreon.com/EASchechter. Subscribe to Elizabeth's newsletter at https://www.subscribepage.com/k4u7k2

Book preview

Chapter 1

Deeper in the Woods

THE DEER WAS PERFECT. A spike-horned buck, antlers still in velvet, it entered the clearing and started to graze on the new spring grass, the sun painting its hide in shades of gold and amber. Hidden from the deer’s view, Matthias smiled and raised his bow. Fresh meat tonight, and more to dry and smoke for the journey. The hide to take to the cobbler to trade for new boots. Fat for travel meal, and the sinews for lacing and for new bowstrings. He drew halfway, waiting until the buck turned and exposed its side fully. It was, Matthias thought, almost as if it was asking for the arrow. He drew back the rest of the way and was about to release when the buck’s head shot up. A flash of white tail, and it was gone.

Matthias lowered his bow, staring, unbelieving. What had just happened? Then he heard what had frightened the deer—heavy crashing through the underbrush, the sound coming closer. A moment later, he heard the voice.

Matthias!

Matthias closed his eyes and slipped out of the blind, heading back toward the hut where he lived. By the time he reached the cluster of oaks and the ramshackle structure, there was a horse tethered outside, and a young man waiting. Matthias stopped for a moment just out of sight. Balthazar was handsome as sin, and just as forbidden, and for the life of him Matthias couldn’t understand why he bothered, why he even cared about someone as tainted as Matthias. Balthazar looked up and saw Matthias, and his smile lit up the grove.

There you are!

Balthazar, you’re early, Matthias said as he came out of the trees. And you spoiled my hunt. Haven’t I told you not to make so much noise?

Balthazar looked around, and his brow furrowed. You were hunting? he asked. Matthias, I’m sorry! I thought I was late enough not to disturb anything. But you’re a great hunter. You’ll get something later, or tomorrow.

Matthias sighed, shaking his head. It was hard to stay mad at Balthazar, even when he was being dense. It would be days before that buck returned to this part of the woods, if at all. Why are you so early? he asked.

You wanted to learn to ride. And Father is out, but he says there’s a... a something I need to attend later. So if I didn’t come early, I’d not see you at all today. Balthazar smiled and came closer, running his hands up Matthias’ arms, then pulling him closer. Matthias gasped at Balthazar’s boldness. If they were caught...

Balthazar!

No one followed me, and there’s no one out here but you and me. He kissed Matthias, holding him tightly. I didn’t see you yesterday. I can’t go two days without seeing you.

Matthias relaxed slowly, then tipped his head back for another kiss, craving the affection he’d been missing since his mother’s death. Having anyone want his company was something he wasn’t used to having happen. Usually, when he went into the Enclave, the men turned their backs on him, and the women drew their veils over their faces and ran. He was the Bastard, tainted by his mother’s sins, and scorned by everyone. Everyone except Balthazar.

I like seeing you, too, he said, then remembered that he was annoyed. He stepped back, pulling out of Balthazar’s arms. I like eating a little more, though. It was a beautiful buck, Balthazar. I’d have had meat for days— He turned to the hut. Come inside. I made porridge this morning. It isn’t much, but I found a honey-tree—

Honeycomb? Balthazar asked. I ate, but I could eat again if there’s honeycomb.

Yes, there’s honeycomb. Come in. Matthias led him into the low-ceilinged hut and crossed to the fireplace. He picked up a rag and used it to protect his hands as he took a heavy, earthenware pot from the coals. Honey is in the crock on the shelf behind you.

And, a tree, you said? Balthazar asked. You could trade the honey, you know.

I know. Matthias set the pot on the table and fetched a pair of bowls and spoons. I’ve got more crocks ready to take into town to trade to the baker and the miller, and wax for the chandler.

A lot to carry. You can ride in with me. Shadow can carry us both, Balthazar said, using the rag to take the lid off the pot. He stopped and looked at Matthias. Was this going to be your dinner?

Matthias shrugged. If I didn’t catch anything. But Mother would have my hide if I didn’t offer you something. So eat.

Eat with me. And when we go into town, we’ll stop at the house. I’ll have Charity put together a pack for you.

Matthias shook his head. No. I don’t want pity—

Balthazar waved him silent. It’s not. It’s me making good on the fact that I spoiled your hunt. We had steak pie last night, and I’m sure there’s half a pie left. And bread. I know you love Charity’s bread. She baked this morning.

Matthias scowled, but necessity won over pride. He nodded and picked up a bowl, spooning cereal into it. Get the honey, and save me a piece of the comb.

They sat across from each other at the table, and Matthias shook his head as he watched Balthazar stir a large chunk of comb into his porridge. You and your sweets, he murmured.

I like honeycomb, Balthazar said with a shrug. Then he grinned. How many crocks do you have?

Matthias nodded slowly, licking honey off his own spoon. I’ve three to trade, and two more for me. Why?

I was thinking that you might offer one to my father, Balthazar said slowly. It might sweeten his mood toward you.

Matthias looked down at his porridge, and took a large bite to keep from having to answer. It would take more than a crock of honey to sweeten High Elder Cyrus’ thoughts toward Matthias, and he well knew it. But Balthazar was blind to his father’s distaste, as he was blind to how Matthias was seen by the others in the Enclave.

Balthazar... I’ve decided, he said slowly. I’m leaving.

Balthazar choked, gasping around a bite of porridge, then sputtered, You’re what?

Leaving, Matthias repeated. I’ve decided. Mother’s gone now. She’s at peace, and there’s no reason for me to stay. I’m leaving the Enclave. I can go... someplace. I don’t know where. Someplace where I can start over, where no one knows of Mother’s sins, or that I’m tainted by them. Make a life for myself where no one looks down their noses at me whenever I dare go into the Enclave.

Balthazar stared at him. But... Matthias, you can’t leave! he cried.

Matthias blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected Balthazar to be quite so upset. I can. I figure that I can be gone in a month, once I’ve got supplies laid in and new boots.

And where are you going to go? Balthazar demanded, thumping on the tabletop and making the crockery rattle. There are vagrants out there, and outlaws and who knows what else! It’s not safe!

Matthias leaned forward. There are other Enclaves. We both know that.

Balthazar blinked, then dropped his hands into his lap, not looking at Matthias. You can’t leave, he repeated, his voice breaking. I... you have to stay here. With me. You’re my friend, my only friend. You... you mean so much to me.

You’re my only friend, too, Matthias said. But Balthazar—

Balthazar lurched to his feet, his stool clattering to the floor. Before Matthias could rise, Balthazar was around the table; he grabbed Matthias by the shoulders, turned him around, then took his face between his hands and kissed him. Matthias jerked, but Balthazar didn’t let go.

Kissing wasn’t new—Balthazar had first kissed Matthias months ago. It had begun as a shy, almost timid gesture, and had grown into something Matthias considered a welcome gesture of affection, especially since the death of his mother. But this... there was an intensity to this kiss that was almost frightening, a hunger that Matthias didn’t understand. When Balthazar pulled back and straightened, Matthias couldn’t think. He fumbled for words, coughing once. He licked his lips and dropped his eyes. As his gaze raked over Balthazar, he noticed a bulge in Balthazar’s trousers. He swallowed and looked up.

I... I don’t understand, he finally stammered.

I don’t want you to leave me, Balthazar murmured, kneeling down in front of Matthias, catching Matthias’ hands in his. I want you to stay, because I love you.

Matthias gaped at him, then reflexively looked over his shoulder. There was no one else in the hut, but he still lowered his voice. Balthazar, that’s blasphemy!

And no one knows that better than I, Balthazar said, his voice equally low. I know I shouldn’t want you. I know that I can’t ever admit to loving you. But that doesn’t change anything. I love you. I don’t want you to go. Stay. Please stay. For me.

Matthias licked his lips, then shook his head. We can’t. This is... Balthazar, you know what they’ll do if they find us. And you’re to be married this year. You told me that your father was arranging it. We can’t. I need to leave, now more than ever.

But we’ll be fine! Balthazar protested. No one has caught us yet. We can keep on the way we’ve been. I can help you out here; make sure you have what you need. And when I inherit my father’s place, it will be better.

You’ve lost your mind, Matthias said simply. He got up and picked up his bowl, scraping the last bit of porridge out of it and eating it, grimacing at the cold, gluey mess. He carried it over to the wash basin in the corner and put it into the water. Are you finished with your porridge?

Yes. I’ll help wash. Balthazar brought over his own bowl and the pot, put them into the water.

You can dry. And you’re insane. We’ll both be sent to the School. Matthias looked over his shoulder. I promised Mother I’d be good.

Matthias—

No. I’m not listening to this anymore. I have chores, and I need to go into the Enclave. Matthias plunged his hands into the water and started to scrub. Balthazar, he said quietly. I do care about you. You’re my only friend.

Do you love me?

Matthias looked over his shoulder at Balthazar. I just said—

Do you love me? Balthazar repeated. He came closer, putting his hands on Matthias’ shoulders. Matthias, I’m asking if you care for me as more than a friend.

Matthias turned, and Balthazar kissed him again. This one was sweeter. Softer, not so much hunger as longing. Matthias understood that longing, that loneliness. That deep-seated need for someone to care, to have someone to whom you mattered. He hadn’t thought he’d have it again. But now... he could almost taste it on Balthazar’s breath, and he wrapped his arms around Balthazar and kissed him back. When Balthazar pulled away this time, he was smiling.

I knew it, he murmured. I knew you felt the same. Now... now you know why you can’t leave.

I... Matthias met his eyes and bit his lip, then sighed and turned back to the wash basin. Balthazar, what is there for me here? Besides you?

Balthazar rested his hip on the edge of the table on which the basin sat. I’m not sure I understand.

I’m never going to be accepted here, Matthias said. He pulled out one of the bowls, looked at it, then handed it to Balthazar to dry. I’m always going to be the one that people point at when they tell their children that’s what happens when you’re bad.

Balthazar scoffed and shook his head. They don’t—

They do. They just don’t do it when you’re with me. No one wants to offend the son of the High Elder. Matthias snorted. And you will be the High Elder someday. Then what happens? Because I was born, and because my mother wouldn’t leave me to die, I am everything you’ll be telling people not to do. When you stand up to preach on Rest Day, you’ll be preaching against me. What then, Balthazar? Matthias turned and tucked his wet hands under his arms. What happens when eventually, you’re looking down your nose at me, too?

Balthazar’s jaw dropped. I would never—!

You would, Matthias interrupted. You’d have to! That’s what the Codex says! My entire life is a sin, and you can’t change that. He snorted and looked back at the basin. And leaving won’t change that either. I’ll let the pot soak some more. If I’m going to get porridge oats, we need to go.

Balthazar sighed softly, and nodded. If you say so. Where are the crocks you’re taking?

They rode double into the Enclave, neither speaking, Matthias clinging to Balthazar and trying not to look at the ground. He wondered what Balthazar was thinking. Then he wondered what he was thinking himself; his thoughts seemed to be running in circles. He should go. But would leaving change anything? Or would he always be on the outside, looking in at something he could never have? If he left, he’d be alone. If he stayed... at least he’d have a friend. For however long that lasted. He sighed and tightened his arms around Balthazar’s waist, seeing the walls of the Enclave looming closer. Balthazar looked back over his shoulder and nodded.

It will all work out, Matthias. You’ll see.

Matthias hoped so.

Chapter 2

Making Provisions

MATTHIAS COULD HEAR the creaking of the mill-wheel before they reached the mill. He grimaced, knowing what would happen once he passed through the gate. But perhaps, since Balthazar was with him, it would be easier? Balthazar reined in his mare outside the mill gate and looked over his shoulder.

All right. I’ll tie Shadow and meet you inside, he said. Matthias nodded and looked down. Balthazar laughed. It’s not that far down. Hold on to me. I won’t let you fall.

Promise? Matthias said, his voice coming out slightly more squeaky than he’d have liked.

Balthazar smiled, turning in the saddle. You did fine. You’ll be an excellent rider one day. Once you learn to dismount. He held his arm back. Hold on to me, and lean forward. Then swing your right leg over.

Matthias bit his lip and leaned into Balthazar, holding tight onto his arm as he swung his leg over and dropped to the ground like a stone. He stumbled back, and would have fallen if it weren’t for the gate. He gasped, waited a moment for his heart to stop pounding in his ears, then shook his head. Not doing that again, he gasped. We’re walking back.

Balthazar laughed and swung easily down from the horse’s back. Fine. We’ll walk. We can put everything you buy today on Shadow and take our time. He took one of the crocks out of the string carry-bags he’d tied to the saddle and handed it to Matthias. Here’s the honey. I’ll be along in a moment.

Matthias took the crock and went into the mill-yard. He was half-way across the yard when he heard the voice. Oh... blast! Usually it was one of the sons, and they were bad enough. He’d never dealt with Jubal the miller himself, had been warned by his mother not to go near him...

You were told you’re not welcome here, Bastard.

Matthias froze in his tracks and held up the crock. I’ve come to trade. I need porridge oats, and I have honey to offer in trade. I want nothing else.

I don’t care. The miller came out into the yard. I won’t have you here, spreading your taint like a disease to my children and to their children.

Matthias bit his lip, knowing from dealing with the miller’s sons that if he rose to take the bait, he’d leave with nothing. He shook his head and held up the crock. Honey. I took it from the hive last night. All I want is a bag of porridge oats, he said, fighting to keep his voice level.

The miller narrowed his ice-blue eyes and came closer, spitting on the ground at Matthias’ feet. And all I want is to take a horsewhip to you, then string you up in the square and finish the job your wicked whore of a mother wouldn’t.

Matthias took an involuntary step back, caught between the urge to fight and the stronger urge to flee. He looked up at the miller, saw something he’d never seen before, and the words fell from his mouth before he could stop himself: She had your eyes.

The miller stopped, stared at him for a heartbeat, then roared in fury and raised one heavy fist...

Jubal Miller!

Balthazar managed to sound shocked, appalled and enraged, all at once. Matthias looked over his shoulder to see Balthazar standing just inside the gate, his face white. The miller drew back, then turned and nodded respectfully toward Balthazar.

Balthazar Elderson, he said slowly. How may I be of service?

Balthazar came forward, stopping next to Matthias. Matthias stepped back, away from the miller, and into Balthazar’s shadow. Balthazar turned, looked at him, and held out his hand. May I?

For a moment, Matthias didn’t know what Balthazar wanted. Then he realized what Balthazar was doing, and handed him the crock of honey. Balthazar weighed it in his hands, then turned back to Jubal and asked, "What amount of porridge oats would I get for this much honey, Jubal?"

Jubal’s eyes widened, and he looked from Balthazar to Matthias, then back. For... for you, Elderson, there would be no charge. I... I would offer it as a gift.

I want no gifts given under duress, Jubal Miller, Balthazar said. Fair dealings. This much honey would get me how many oats?

Jubal swallowed, and Matthias could see how much he wanted to refuse. How much this galled him. Then he shook his head and sighed. Two bags of porridge oats, Elderson.

Then please, may I have two bags of porridge oats? Balthazar said, holding out the crock.

I only need one, Matthias murmured, watching as the miller walked into the mill. He left out the fact that the miller’s sons had only ever given him one bag for a crock that size.

Shut up. You’re getting two, Balthazar answered, sounding angry. He turned and looked back at Matthias. It’s always like this?

Matthias nodded. This... this was worse, actually. I usually deal with Uriah or with Zekial. They bully me a bit, then give me what I need. He fell silent as Jubal reappeared, carrying two rough bags. Behind him, at the door, Matthias could see a veiled woman, watching. She raised one hand in a timid gesture; he nodded briefly and saw her duck out of sight.

Two bags of porridge oats, Jubal said. For one crock of honey.

It’s very good honey, Balthazar said, surrendering the crock and taking one of the bags. He passed it to Matthias and took the other under his arm. We’ll be eating it at our table tonight. I’m sure your family will enjoy it. Have a good day, Jubal, and my best to your wife. He nodded and smiled, then turned and headed to the gate as if nothing untoward had just happened. Matthias followed, hurrying after him, worried what would happen if the miller got over his shock before he was out of sight.

You realize I’m never going to be able to go there again without you? he said quietly as he helped Balthazar tie the bags to Shadow’s saddle.

Is that a problem? Balthazar asked. I don’t mind doing your shopping with you. Why was he so mad, anyway? Did you say something?

Matthias looked over his shoulder, shook his head. It’s not important. Thanks. For... for being here.

You’re welcome. Would you mind... if I watched? Balthazar took Shadow’s reins and untied them from the gate, leading the horse out into the street. Matthias fell in next to him.

Watched? Oh, you mean, you want to see how the others treat me when I’m alone? he asked.

Yes.

No one else is as bad as the miller, Matthias said. He shrugged. And with Zekial or Uriah, they’re not so terrible. I know how to deal with them. They’re like two big dogs, really. They snarl and snap, they piss a bit to show their territory, and if I don’t challenge them, they give me what I need and I leave.

Balthazar coughed on his laughter at the description, grinning at Matthias. Where are we going next?

MATTHIAS HESITATED in the door of the chandler’s shop, and decided that it couldn’t be any worse than dealing with Jubal Miller. So he went the rest of the way in and set his package of beeswax on the table. A veiled woman peeked out, then ducked back into the other room. A moment later, Jacob Chandler appeared.

Well, Matthias. Good day, he said, sounding far more civil than Matthias ever remembered him being. Candle ends again?

Matthias blinked, then pushed the package across the table. I’ve found a good source of beeswax, sir, he said. I’d like to trade for whole candles, if you’re willing?

Beeswax? Jacob repeated. He unwrapped the package and picked up one of the pieces that Matthias had melted into a brick. Oh, very nice. And you’ve cleaned it well. What did you use to filter it?

A piece of old linen, Matthias answered. A piece of his mother’s everyday veil, but he wasn’t going to say that.

Good. Very good. Yes, I’ll trade for this. He turned away, went to the pegs that held pairs of candles. He looked back at the table, then pulled six pairs down and tied them into a bundle. Then, to Matthias’ surprise, he took down another six.

Two dozen? Matthias gasped. Is it that good?

Yes, and you’ve saved me the job of cleaning it myself, Jacob answered. He set the two bundles on the table and folded his arms. Can you get me as much or more?

Matthias thought about the hive, how large it was, and how much wax he might be able to harvest. Perhaps half this much. It’s not a large hive. I’d rather not destroy it.

Fair enough, Jacob answered. Bring what you can, and I’ll give you the same weight in candle ends.

Done, Matthias said without hesitation. The chandler nodded and held his hand out, a gesture that surprised Matthias so much that he just stared for a moment. The chandler wanted to shake his hand to seal the deal? His hand? He reached out tentatively, and found his hand engulfed by the chandler’s.

Done and done. Bring it when you can. The man turned away, and Matthias gathered up his bundles of candles and left, shaking his head and smiling.

What? Balthazar asked. You’re in a cheerful mood.

He was in a better one, Matthias answered, putting the bundles into one of the carry-bags. That’s probably the longest and most civil conversation I’ve ever had with Jacob Chandler. I don’t understand why. He couldn’t see you, could he?

I kept out of sight. But I saw Uriah Millerson go out the back, Balthazar answered. Do you think he’s gossiping?

Matthias shrugged. Probably. Balthazar, you realize you can’t be with me all the time? He started walking again, looking around, seeing the men glowering at him and the women twitching their veils over their faces and hurrying their children away. No doubt to protect them from the evil of his gaze. Even being with Balthazar wasn’t enough. He sighed and ducked his head. Let’s go, he said.

Balthazar didn’t say anything. He just followed in Matthias’ wake, something for which Matthias was grateful. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, especially now that he’d spoken them aloud. Speaking something aloud made it real, his mother had told him once. Now he was wondering if he’d sealed his own fate. Leaving as soon as he could was becoming a better idea by the moment, new boots or no new boots. He could always patch these if he needed to before he left. They’d get him... .

And there was the problem. Where could he go? He swallowed and looked up as the wind changed, carrying with it the scent of the bake house. At least William Baker had always been nice to him. That would end this visit to the Enclave on a better note.

Smells like honey-cakes, Balthazar said. He grinned. Remember?

I remember the whipping I got when we got caught, Matthias said. Mother was furious. How did you ever manage to talk me into stealing a honey cake?

I used to be able to talk you into most things, Balthazar said. He moved closer, his shoulder brushing against Matthias’. Come on. I’ll buy you a honey cake.

They entered the bakery together, and Matthias set his crocks on the wooden table.

William Baker? Balthazar called. Are you here?

I am, and just a moment! the baker called back, just before he appeared in the doorway, wiping his round, red face on his apron. The tray’s just out of the ovens, he said. He looked at the pair of them and snorted. And too hot to snitch, so don’t even think of it.

Matthias smiled. I’m not ten anymore. I’ve two crocks of honey for you, sir.

Now there’s timing. I’m just out. Only two? William came over and opened one of the crocks, taking a spoon and sampling the honey. He nodded. I’ll pay you in coin if you get me more of this, Matthias.

Matthias blinked, looked at Balthazar, then back at the baker. You will?

I will, and I said it in front of a witness, so I’ll hold to it. I’ve need of honey, and you’ve obviously found a good source. So I’ll either pay in coin, or in kind whenever you bring a crock or two. He set the crocks down on the counter behind him and wiped his hands. Now, what will it be? The usual?

Matthias nodded, watching as William filled a bag with hand-sized flat loaves of twice-baked bread, enough to last Matthias until the heat of summer settled in. The baker tied off the bag, then looked up. And what else?

Matthias blinked. I’m sorry, what?

One crock of honey for the twice-baked bread. What else will you have? Another bag? Honey-cakes?

Matthias started to answer, then looked at Balthazar and smiled. Two honey-cakes, and a loaf of barley bread. And... the balance in twice-baked. Please.

I was supposed to buy the honey-cakes, Balthazar protested.

Matthias laughed, feeling drunk on his unexpected riches. Let me. Just this once.

The baker smiled and wrapped up the rest of Matthias’ purchases, going into the back for the honey-cakes. When he came back, he wasn’t smiling.

Matthias, have you been in trouble? he asked.

Matthias shook his head. Not unless you count me coming into the Enclave today as being in trouble, no. Why?

Uriah Millerson is at my back door, warning me that you’re going about with young Elderson here, the baker answered. And he seems to be implying that you’re corrupting the son of the High Elder. He glanced at Balthazar. I saw him heading to your house, Balthazar.

My father isn’t home, Balthazar answered. He won’t be back until after the midday meal.

Still, you boys don’t want to get into trouble. Matthias, you’d best stay out of sight for a few days. He sighed and shook his head. Off with you now. The both of you. Go home.

Matthias picked up his packages, feeling the heat of the fresh honey-cakes in his hands as he followed Balthazar out into the square.

Father’s not home. Come share a meal with me, Balthazar said.

You heard the baker. I should go home. Matthias looked around, feeling an itchy spot between his shoulder blades. I need to leave.

I ate your supper, Balthazar said. At least let me give you a meal in return. He stepped in front of Matthias and smiled. Steak pie. And Charity’s bread.

I just bought bread, Matthias replied, and went to step around Balthazar. Who stepped right back in front of him. Matthias shuddered and looked around, feeling as if every eye in the Enclave was watching them. Balthazar, not in public! he hissed.

Then come home with me. Let me feed you, at least. Then you can go home. And I’ll... I’ll try and come up with a way to convince you to stay. Balthazar put on a hopeful expression and tried to meet Matthias’ eyes. Please? Just a meal?

Matthias let out a long breath and nodded. One meal. Then I’m going. And I’m going.

Balthazar grinned. That remains to be seen. Let’s go get Shadow.

Chapter 3

Food for Thought

SIDE BY SIDE, MATTHIAS and Balthazar started walking back to where they’d left the mare. Matthias felt the ground rumble through the thin soles of his boots; he looked up and saw one of the Elders’ great machines come into view over the tops of the trees. It was an awkward, ungainly thing, a metal tube with a pointed nose and swept-back wings, its shell a patchwork of various colors that made it look like a crazy quilt. He watched as the gray flying ship—the transport, Balthazar had called it—hovered over the Enclave, then turned and wheeled as gracefully as a bird, and headed off.

Did you ever find the history? he asked as they resumed walking. You said you thought had something about where those transports came from?

I couldn’t find it, Balthazar said. He went ahead and took hold of the mare’s reins. "Put your things away. I’ll hold her.