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“—in the Northern Territories, where they’ve proved themselves against the traditional obstacles and discovered the vision of their destined traditional True Loves.” Oliver had grown up with those stories. They all had.
He’d known he’d have to. Eventually. In the abstract. Not soon. Not now. “I just…I don’t know, can’t I…not? Not yet? I mean, I’m happy.”
Tir murmured, “You might also be happy with True Love, you know.”
“You’re not helping!”
“Oliver,” his mother said. She was giving him the patented hopeful maternal gaze. She could inspire martyrs. Summon armies. Conquer the sun. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not alone!” He waved an arm vaguely. “I’ve got…y’know, I’ve got Tir! Right, Tir?”
Tir made a small movement, almost infinitesimal, almost a flinch; but in the next eye blink he was smiling, so utterly casual so that Oliver doubted his own perceptions. “Oh, of course. Inarguably.”
“See?” But his mother wasn’t looking at him. He followed her sightline; discovered her looking at Tirian. “Mother,” Ollie attempted plaintively.
“You know I love you.” Ellie picked up a pencil, turned it in her fingers, set it back down. Her desk remained neat and orderly, as ever. Her eyes were older somehow, in this moment. Ollie did not recall the lines beside them, not as much as he noticed them now. “Both of you, very much.”
“Of course we know.” He slid to the front of his chair. “Is this…are you…I don’t know. Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“Of course we know,” Tir said after him, more softly and more heartfelt than Ollie might’ve expected. He had a feeling there was something else he couldn’t hear being said, but they weren’t saying it to him.
“Everything’s perfectly fine.” Ellie looked at them both, Oliver and Tir and back to Oliver. “It’s simply…I want you to be happy.”
“I am. We are.”
“And the Quest will shape your future, and it’s time you stopped avoiding that.”
“I’m not avoiding it,” Ollie said. “I’m just…not thinking about it.”
“Well,” Tir said, “you are now.”
“Tirian,” Ellie said, tone not a rebuke but almost sad, as if it were an apology; Tir’s gaze found the rug, the woven pink-and-gold patterns, and stayed there.
Ollie looked that way, looked at his mother, couldn’t figure out how to form the question. His formal shoes reminded him of discomfort, abruptly: physical, to go along with the odd tension in the room.
“It’s time for you to take this step,” his mother said. “And by time, I mean departing in, oh, about three weeks, I should think. Before the rains begin. You’ll want to consult past Quest records, for preparations. I’ll make the arrangements for your brother to handle your administrative duties here.”
“But,” Ollie said.
“It’ll be good for him, as well.”
“I’m coming with you,” Tir said. No: not said. Stated. Fact.
“Yes.” Ellie picked up the pencil again, set it back down. “I expected you would.” Her tone held that odd emotion again, rue and compassion. The corner of Tir’s mouth tipped up, a smile that flickered and faded and went away.
“I don’t have a say in this,” Oliver said. “Do I.”
His mother turned all the compassion on him. “Would you truly want to say no? To reject the years of tradition, the duties of this family, the obligations to magic—”
“I suppose not.”
“The obligations,” Ellie said, “because the Quest is that, a responsibility, a healing—when you defeat the obstacles, when you rescue someone, when you put something right—of course it’s magic, but we live in magic, we can’t afford to offend it, here at the edge—”
“I said I’d go.”
His mother looked at him, across the spotless shining wood of her desk. Her hands were still now. “I did. And I found your father.”
“I know.” King Henry, who had not been a king then, had come north from Corsonne with a diplomatic expedition, in part to inquire into trade with Bellemare and in part because a young fifth-in-line prince had simply very badly wanted to see a magical kingdom, to discover a new world, to be delighted. The expedition had run into the Walking Forest, had got lost, and had been wandering among trees when Bellemare’s Crown Princess Eleuthenia had arrived with enchanted guide-stones and a practical compass. Love at first sight, they’d both said. Magic.
