Read Online The Wizard's Daughters: Twin Magic: Book 1 by Michael Dalton - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Dalton
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was really going to work the way he wanted and feeling for the first time in nearly a week how tired he was.
“Father?”
Walther looked back at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in several days.
“Yes?”
“How are things going? Are you almost done?”
Walther sighed.
“Yes, I think so. I am tired. I am getting old.”
“You should sleep. You have not slept in days. Come over here and eat.”
Walther rose, and Ariel set his dinner down on the side table next to the chair in the corner, where he sat to think when he was working. He followed her over and sat down.
“How have things been? I’m sorry I have been so busy. What have you been doing?”
“Erich has been a good husband. Astrid’s baby is due any day now.”
Walther was so tired it took Ariel’s words several long moments to sink in.
“What did you say?”
Ariel smiled. “I am teasing, Father. Everything is fine. Please rest.”
Walther took a few bites of his dinner and stretched out in his chair. All right, he would rest for a bit. But not long; there was more to do, and he was almost done.
When Ariel left, he was snoring loudly, dinner forgotten.
♦ ♦
Ariel hated herself for it, but her promise to Erich survived only a few days. After getting her father to rest and getting the house in order that night, she finally spilled the news to her sister. It was just too interesting a secret to keep to herself.
“He really is a nobleman?” Astrid asked when she was done.
“Well, not anymore. He was disowned, like I said.”
“Do you really believe his story?”
“Yes. It did not seem like he was inventing any of it. He did not even want to tell me.”
Astrid was quiet a moment. “So why did he?”
“We were trading secrets. I told him about the freckle.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. “Not even Father knows about the freckle. At least I think he doesn't. Why would you tell him that?”
“I don’t know. He’s interesting. And I told him about how we must marry.”
Her sister was pensive. “I don’t suppose that matters. All the mages in Köln will know that soon.”
Ariel sighed. “I should so dearly like to marry someone like Erich. What if we must marry someone like Father, who only wants to sit in his workshop until he faints? I shall die of boredom if we do.”
“I don’t think there are mages like Erich.”
Ariel had a sudden thought. “What if he’s a mage and doesn’t know it?”
“How could he not know?”
“He said his father only let him learn about swordplay. He could have a talent that he’s never had a chance to develop.”
“That doesn’t happen.”
“It could.”
“It doesn’t,” Astrid shot back. “When you have a talent, you know. Father always said that. Even when we couldn’t do anything, before deuolhud , we still knew. No one becomes a mage at his age.”
♦ ♦
But Ariel could not get the idea out of her head. She lay awake long after they turned out the little automaton-lights on their nightstands, wondering.
Was there a way to know? Astrid had said several times there was something odd about Erich, and Ariel knew what she meant. Even after she had learned the truth about his past, she had felt there was something else there, maybe something Erich wasn’t even aware of himself.
It could be a talent. Erich could be their match, after all. She was surprised to realize how much the possibility thrilled her. He was handsome. He was interesting. He knew things and had done things, exciting things. She was sure that being his wife—while it might be unpredictable and occasionally frightening—would never, ever, be boring. He was old enough that she could feel she would respect him, but not so much older that she would feel like his child.
She had to know. But she could think of no way of telling. She did not dare breathe a word of this to Father, who probably did know a way, or would be able to invent a way of knowing, the same way he had invented the resonance
“Father?”
Walther looked back at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in several days.
“Yes?”
“How are things going? Are you almost done?”
Walther sighed.
“Yes, I think so. I am tired. I am getting old.”
“You should sleep. You have not slept in days. Come over here and eat.”
Walther rose, and Ariel set his dinner down on the side table next to the chair in the corner, where he sat to think when he was working. He followed her over and sat down.
“How have things been? I’m sorry I have been so busy. What have you been doing?”
“Erich has been a good husband. Astrid’s baby is due any day now.”
Walther was so tired it took Ariel’s words several long moments to sink in.
“What did you say?”
Ariel smiled. “I am teasing, Father. Everything is fine. Please rest.”
Walther took a few bites of his dinner and stretched out in his chair. All right, he would rest for a bit. But not long; there was more to do, and he was almost done.
When Ariel left, he was snoring loudly, dinner forgotten.
♦ ♦
Ariel hated herself for it, but her promise to Erich survived only a few days. After getting her father to rest and getting the house in order that night, she finally spilled the news to her sister. It was just too interesting a secret to keep to herself.
“He really is a nobleman?” Astrid asked when she was done.
“Well, not anymore. He was disowned, like I said.”
“Do you really believe his story?”
“Yes. It did not seem like he was inventing any of it. He did not even want to tell me.”
Astrid was quiet a moment. “So why did he?”
“We were trading secrets. I told him about the freckle.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. “Not even Father knows about the freckle. At least I think he doesn't. Why would you tell him that?”
“I don’t know. He’s interesting. And I told him about how we must marry.”
Her sister was pensive. “I don’t suppose that matters. All the mages in Köln will know that soon.”
Ariel sighed. “I should so dearly like to marry someone like Erich. What if we must marry someone like Father, who only wants to sit in his workshop until he faints? I shall die of boredom if we do.”
“I don’t think there are mages like Erich.”
Ariel had a sudden thought. “What if he’s a mage and doesn’t know it?”
“How could he not know?”
“He said his father only let him learn about swordplay. He could have a talent that he’s never had a chance to develop.”
“That doesn’t happen.”
“It could.”
“It doesn’t,” Astrid shot back. “When you have a talent, you know. Father always said that. Even when we couldn’t do anything, before deuolhud , we still knew. No one becomes a mage at his age.”
♦ ♦
But Ariel could not get the idea out of her head. She lay awake long after they turned out the little automaton-lights on their nightstands, wondering.
Was there a way to know? Astrid had said several times there was something odd about Erich, and Ariel knew what she meant. Even after she had learned the truth about his past, she had felt there was something else there, maybe something Erich wasn’t even aware of himself.
It could be a talent. Erich could be their match, after all. She was surprised to realize how much the possibility thrilled her. He was handsome. He was interesting. He knew things and had done things, exciting things. She was sure that being his wife—while it might be unpredictable and occasionally frightening—would never, ever, be boring. He was old enough that she could feel she would respect him, but not so much older that she would feel like his child.
She had to know. But she could think of no way of telling. She did not dare breathe a word of this to Father, who probably did know a way, or would be able to invent a way of knowing, the same way he had invented the resonance
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