Free The Archmage Unbound by Michael G. Manning Page B

golem had Rose upside down
left him in stitches.
    “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me
about that before,” he remarked as we stepped off the circle in my house in
Albamarl.
    “I guess I was busy. A lot did happen
after all,” I replied. In point of fact the events we were discussing had been
only a few months prior, but now looking back it seemed as if years had
passed. I went through the house and made sure it would let him enter and exit
through the front door in my absence. I also made particular effort to ensure
that the golem in the library would allow him to look through the books without
interference. “Are you sure you’ll be alright here by yourself?” I asked again
for probably the tenth time.
    Marc laughed, “I’ll be fine Mort… and if
I’m not, you’ll be the first to know.” He emphasized the last part.
    “I’ll be back in a few days for my
meeting with the king,” I repeated again. “When you go deliver Rose’s note to
Lord Hightower don’t let them see your face. Just leave it with the doorman.
I’d rather no one knows how easy it is for us to enter and leave the city until
after I visit the king.”
    “I doubt he’s forgotten your visit to
his warehouses already,” said Marc sardonically.
    “That’s certain, but he may not realize
I still have a means of entering and leaving other than the circle that was in
James Lancaster’s storehouse,” I said.
    “True enough,” Marc replied. “I’ll keep
that in mind. Never fear, no one will know I’ve returned to the city for at
least a few weeks.”
    After that I said my farewells and
returned to Cameron Castle. Penelope was waiting for me when I got back to our
rooms. As soon as I entered she looked up, she had been combing out her hair
in preparation for bed.
    “Already back?” she asked.
    I would have thought that was obvious
but I decided not to be a smart ass. “Nothing could keep me from your side my
dear!” I said chivalrously.
    “You say that now. Wait till I get fat…
I’m already starting to show,” she announced with a mixture of pride and
trepidation.
    “Really?” I asked with a healthy
interest.
    “Look,” she said standing up and
smoothing her nightdress. She stood sideways in front of a full length mirror
that had been a gift from Genevieve Lancaster. Sure enough there was a
distinct protrusion of her belly. There were also more interesting changes.
    I stepped up behind her and put one arm
around her waist, feeling the modest swelling of her midriff. “That’s not all
that’s grown,” I announced as I brought my other hand up to cup her breast in a
familiar manner.
    “I despair of you ever growing up,” she
said with a smile, and then she leaned her head back to engage me in a rather
distracting kiss.
    Sometime later she nudged me; I had
almost fallen asleep in the bed. “Do you think our baby will be happy?” she
asked with a note of uncertainty.
    I tried to focus my thoughts. I have
never been sure why she always wanted to talk ‘afterward’ but I had learned to
accept it. Personally I had begun to suspect it was because she knew I was
less likely to dissemble and more likely to answer honestly. “I hope so,” I
replied, “but the future is never certain. And you should say, ‘our son’,” I
added.
    “Are you really sure about that? I
couldn’t have been more than a month along when you healed me,” she said.
    “Is it so hard to believe? I never
question your visions,” I told her.
    She snorted, “That’s because they’re
always right, and you don’t have that gift… how can you be sure?”
    “I’m sure,” I answered. “You’re just
feeling nervous because you haven’t had any visions to confirm what I said.”
    “That’s not true!” she answered
self-righteously, “I’m just nervous. If I decorate the nursery for a boy and
we have a girl you’re going to be in trouble.” She poked me in the ribs as she
said it.
    I chuckled a bit, “That is a risk I’m
willing to