Isle of Blood and Stone (Isle of Blood and Stone #1)(16)

Lord Isidore stepped back and inspected him, frowning. “Your maman is not going to like what’s happened to your face.”

“I know it. I wasn’t sure I’d find you here.”

“You nearly did not. We leave in the morning. Are you hungry? Come, help me eat this.”

This was a feast. In the center of the kitchen was the cook’s worktable. Lord Isidore had pulled from the larder bread, lobster, fish eggs, and crab legs the size of a man’s forearm. So much food that Elias could almost believe he had been expected.

At the very edge of the table was a straw basket. As he watched, a small, dimpled leg poked straight up in the air before dangling over the side.

Lord Isidore looked over his shoulder at the basket. “He’s just over a fever,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s speak quietly here.”

Elias propped his carrier against the table before leaning over Jonas, the youngest of his three siblings, who had passed his first birthday while Elias was on Hellespont. A thumb was planted firmly in his mouth. In the time Elias had been gone, his brother’s cheeks had hollowed out some, so that he looked more child than infant.

“He looks just like Nieve,” Elias said quietly, with some surprise. Nieve was his sister closest to him in age, at twelve. Lea was six. “He’s twice the size I remember.”

Lord Isidore had settled comfortably into a chair. He pointed a crab leg at Elias in warning. “Don’t say that to your maman. Please. She’s already hinting at another.”

Elias grimaced at the thought, then kissed Jonas on the forehead. “You’re both too old to be having babies. I’m embarrassed every time another appears.”

His comment provoked a low rumble of laughter from Lord Isidore, who said, “Sleep in your old chamber tonight. Don’t argue. You give me gray hairs, wandering the streets at this hour.”

Elias smiled. Already he was glad to have come here. Almost, he could forget the maps in his carrier with their unsettling riddle. He said, “I’ve wandered through worse.”

“Don’t remind me.” Lord Isidore gestured toward the food. “Eat, and tell me why you’re a month late returning home. You know your maman worries.”

Elias was hungry, though he had eaten his fill just hours ago. He was also chilled; the fire was in danger of disappearing completely. A leather tub filled with water and dwarf sea serpents occupied its usual place in the corner. The serpents were about three feet long. One had to be mindful because they resembled the harmless sea worm, but these were malicious, with sharp teeth and nasty dispositions. Delicious, though. Most had drifted to the bottom, where they curled around one another in sleep, blissfully unaware the cook intended them for supper. Only one remained on the surface, jade green in color and swimming the edges of the tub in slow, desultory circles.

Elias shoved his sleeves past his elbows and reached into the tub, snatching the snake just behind its mouth and grabbing its tail with his other hand. Ignoring his stepfather’s terse “For pity’s sake, boy, have a care!” he strode toward the fireplace. Aiming the snake at the embers, he gave the tail one swift yank and loosened his hold on the jaw, enough so that the snake, riled and indignant, spewed forth a single stream of fire. Instantly the fire crackled and burned with a welcoming heat. Satisfied, Elias tossed the snake back into the tub. It gave off one last resentful hiss before slithering beneath the surface.

Lord Isidore was torn between consternation and amusement. “You could not use a poker like the rest of us?”

Elias grinned. “This was quicker.”

“I’ve missed you, boy.” Lord Isidore shoved the platter of lobster his way. “When does your ship leave next?”

“Six weeks.”

They stayed up for a time, sharing their news. Lord Isidore did not live in the city during the summer months but conducted his affairs from the family home outside the northern village of Esperanca. Elias had never been more grateful for its distance. Any news and gossip they received from Cortes would be few and far between. It would be better if his family was away, safe from any whispers that might stray to their ears.

A memory came to him, of sitting outside Lord Silva’s chambers for the first time, no older than five, watching the geographers hard at their work and the giant, brooding statue of Saint Cosme.

The door had been left ajar. From Lord Silva, Elias heard, Of course we’ll see to the child’s training. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. But are you certain, Isidore?

I am.

Truly? Elias is your son now, under the law, to follow whatever path you choose for him. It is your right.

A rueful laugh from his stepfather. That may be, but the boy isn’t meant to live his life indoors, with an abacus. A chair scraped. Do you know . . . he spends his days copying Antoni’s maps? He’s quite good at it. And last week, he disappeared after supper. We turned the parish upside down searching for him. Sabine was frantic.

Where was he?

I found him on the roof. He was trying to chart the stars. A brief silence fell before Lord Isidore continued, quieter, so Elias had to lean closer to the door to hear. I have a wife and a son now, Lord Silva. I won’t begrudge Antoni this. Please, I would like you to train the child.

Very well.

What would happen to Elias’s family if the existence of the maps became known? Even if nothing were proven, the validity of Lord and Lady Isidore’s marriage would be called into question, as well as the legitimacy of their three children. The world was an unkind place to bastards. His sister’s marriage prospects would suffer greatly. And his mother . . . he looked away from the carrier propped against the table and tried not to think of the maps rolled within. Resenting their very existence.