“Rain again.” Aidan Loriel stared out the window, watching the gray haze surround the keep.

A low growl answered the pronouncement.

“Yes, I know, my friend. I feel it, too.”

“And what will you have me do, Master?” The question was more of a rumble than actual words.

“Welcome him as always, Atael. Make him comfortable, but not to the point where he would want to stay. I am much too busy to cater to a king’s fancies this evening.”

“As you wish, Master.”

Aidan turned and watched with only a mild interest as his servant left the room. The creature’s wings folded down when he ducked under the doorway. The sinewy lines of the demon’s body twisted and he stalked down the corridor, his heavy footfalls nearly shaking the stone foundations of the keep. A brief smile broke through Aidan’s otherwise stoic features. Atael was much happier when he didn’t have to hide his true form. With the king’s impending arrival, however, he would have to do just that.

Aidan looked back out the window with a perturbed sigh. “The king is going to kill me yet.”

“Master, he is here.”

The demon’s growl reverberated through Aidan’s mind, drawing another annoyed sigh from the magician. Heavens above, if avoiding the king’s advances didn’t kill him, then the queen surely would.

“Show him into the great library, Atael. I will be with him shortly.”

“Yes, Master.” Aidan took his time making his way down the three floors to the great library. His keep lay just outside the king’s borders and it gave him an edge when he wished to pay no one any allegiance. The king knew him enough to know that Aidan didn’t rush himself on any matter. As he stepped into the library, King Tordis stood and bowed. The motion brought a wry grin to Aidan’s lips.

“Fealty to a wizard,” Aidan quipped as he went to a small bar behind the line of plush couches. “What would your subjects say?” He began pouring two glasses full of a fragrant, deep purple wine. The aroma of exotic fruits wafted up from the glass bottle and Aidan closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the fruit of his people, before handing one glass to the king.

“But my subjects do not know.” King Tordis smirked and took the offered glass. He sipped a tiny bit of the wine and shuddered.

“Ah, but your queen certainly does.” Aidan drank a lengthy swallow of his own wine, hiding the amused smile when he caught sight of the king’s stunned stare. Dark Wine was a precious prize and only the richest could afford the elixir which originated within the Sacarata, the ruling court of Aidan’s people. The dark fae had many wondrous gifts; Dark Wine was one of the best.

“I have come to present my offer once more,” the king said.

Aidan chuckled. “Once more? Have you given up the chase already? It has only been twenty years.”

King Tordis didn’t bother to answer as he sat on one of the couches. “You are too enticing to give up. Therefore I present you with my offer yet again. Come to the capital, take residence in the palace as my court magician and you will never want for anything.”

Aidan looked around his library and then back to the king. “But I want for nothing now.”

The king stood and moved slowly toward him. “But you have no one.” His gaze traveled down the magician’s toned body. “No one to share your bed with you.” Aidan took another drink of his wine. “Forgive me, King Tordis, but I am a man of magic. Such frivolous pursuits are not important to me.”

“Yes, but you are a man, nonetheless. Surely you must have…needs.”

“I do,” Aidan said with a slow nod. He leaned forward just enough to brush his lips lightly over the king’s. “And I do well by taking care of them myself.”

“You delight in tormenting me, sorcerer.”

“Where else would I seek my entertainment?” Aidan stepped back. As he neared one of the couches, his gaze traveled fleetingly over the bookcase behind it. He paid the shelves of books little mind until an empty space caught his eye. “It’s gone,” he murmured.

“Hm? What’s that?” the king asked between sips of wine. Aidan shook his head and, with considerable effort, tore his gaze from the vacant spot. “Nothing. I simply seemed to have misplaced one of my books.”

“Ah, is that all?”

He shot the king a disbelieving look, but quickly reined it in. The king knew nothing of magic. To him, a missing book was nothing. But to Aidan, it was not so easily dismissed. The missing book was one of his highly prized spell books, written in his hand. The muscles of his jaw tightened. He had not misplaced the book. Someone had taken it. He downed the last of his wine in one hefty swallow.

“I regret that our visit this evening cannot be any longer, but I have much work to do. Atael will show you to your room. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to call him. I bid you a good evening.”

Without waiting for a response from the rather stunned king, Aidan turned on his heel and left the room. He met Atael in the entryway and placed a hand on the demon’s shoulder.

“Take care, Atael. My journal has gone missing. I want no one to leave this keep until it is found.”

The demon bowed his head, which was now covered in flowing blond hair. His face resembled any other man’s, as did his body. He wore a dark tunic of gray wool and a pair of thin black pants. “As you wish, Master.” He started to walk away, but stopped. “Is there, by chance, a possibility that the king has it?”

“I doubt it. King Tordis wouldn’t know such value unless it had two legs and a cock. He would not have it.”

Upon entering his workroom, Aidan thought to tear the place apart. The prospect of the clean-up, however, stilled his temper before he could do anything. Instead, he collapsed into his chair and scowled at the empty air. He had no idea who could have taken the book, but he was convinced someone had. That book held his personal notes from the past six hundred years, not to mention some of his most powerful spells. To utter a single spell from the book would prove disastrous for the thief. The book was charmed, and no matter the purposes of the spells within, anyone besides Aidan himself would be immediately transported to his keep. It was a foolproof way of binding and protecting a book: to bring the thief before the owner.

A knock sounded on the door, pulling Aidan out of his brooding. “Enter.”

“Master, the king is in his chambers. The door has been sealed until morning.”

Aidan nodded absently. “Very good. Thank you, Atael.”

The demon started across the room, dropping the illusion as he neared Aidan’s chair.

When Aidan looked up, he was greeted with a smile full of razor sharp teeth. Two massive, black horns curled from the sides of Atael’s head, the points nearly touching the floor as Atael bowed low. He flexed his leathery wings slowly, a groan of contentment sounding from somewhere in his eight-foot-tall frame. As he knelt before Aidan, the hooves of his feet grated along the stone floor, emitting red sparks.

“Master,” he said, looking up at Aidan. “May I?”

Aidan held out his hand. “Yes, my friend. Take what you need.”

Atael curled his fingers around Aidan’s wrist and drew it to his lips. As his fangs sank into the pale flesh, Aidan winced slightly. It was a necessary component to the ongoing spell that kept the demon with him. In order for Atael to serve him, Aidan had to provide his own blood. When Atael had taken what he needed, he released Aidan’s hand.

“Thank you, Master.”

“It is a small payment for your devoted services, my friend.”

“What of your book?”

Aidan settled back into the chair, placing his elbows on the arms and linking his fingers together before him. “It was one of the enchanted ones.”

Atael’s toothy grin spread across his face. Aidan knew that look well. He nodded.

“Yes, Atael. When the thief shows up, unaware of what he has done, you may have him. So long as he gives me my book. I must have that book back.”

“Yes, of course. Do you have any thoughts as to who might have taken it?”

“No.” Aidan unlinked his fingers to tuck a strand of his auburn hair behind his right ear. “But I will find out. I want everyone in the keep down in the courtyard come morning. I will pick every mind apart until I find some information.”

“Yes, Master. What of the king?”

Aidan groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “What of the king, indeed. He will be our guest for several more days, I fear. He can be taken to the courtyard with the others, but he is not to be touched in any way. I don’t need the Sercenian royal court breathing down my neck.”

* * *

By the time the sun began to rise over the Brase Mountains, Aidan was already wide awake. The issue of his book weighed heavily on his mind, so much so that it was a wonder he had gotten to sleep at all the night before. He sighed as he stared out of the window from where he lay on his bed. A brisk breeze blew in, ruffling the red gossamer drapes surrounding his bed. He slid off of the mattress, hissing when his bare feet touched the cold stone of the floor. Lifting his robe from its hook on the wall, he slipped it on and buttoned it up. The crimson silk fabric warmed with the contact to his flesh, and he slid his feet into a pair of red silk slippers.

Aidan took his time getting outside to the inner courtyard. As instructed, Atael had lined everyone up in the keep in four perfectly straight rows. Servants, their families and even the king stood stock still, waiting for the keep’s master. As he made his way toward them, he caught no hint of fear from anyone. He stopped before them and crossed his arms over his chest, scanning the crowd slowly, studying each face. Not a single muscle twitched on their faces even when his presence slipped into their minds. As he drew back out, the looks of relief were clear.

“I see nothing to indicate that any of them know anything,” he said as Atael came to stand beside him. It was clear the demon was not happy hiding beneath his illusion. Aidan placed his hand on Atael’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only a few days more.”

Aidan began walking down each row, perusing deeper through each person’s mind. He soon began to wonder if his efforts were futile, but then a stray thought brought him to stand before a young girl, not much older than ten. She trembled under his piercing stare, and Aidan softened it, crouching down to eye level with her.

“You are Janil’s daughter, are you not?” he asked. “You saw something, didn’t you? It’s all right, you are not in trouble.”

She nodded. “Yes, Master Loriel. Just four nights ago, I saw Leland enter the great library. When he came back out, he was carrying a shiny purple book. I didn’t tell anyone because I thought he was getting it for you.”

Aidan hid the anger and smiled at her. “Thank you for telling me.” He stood and turned to the middle-aged man beside her. “You have a beautiful, honest daughter, Janil. In gratitude, I would like for you and your family to dine at my table this evening.”

“Th-thank you, Master Loriel!” The man bowed low. Beside him, his daughter curtseyed.

“Thank you,” Aidan said with a bow of his own. He turned and walked back to Atael, a wry grin creasing his lips. “Leland.”

A deep growl rumbled within Atael’s chest. “Leland,” he echoed. “Then I shall enjoy feasting on his flesh.”

“Yes, my friend. Once I have my book, he is yours.” Aidan started back into the keep. “Dismiss them.”

“Yes, Master.”

For the remainder of the morning, Aidan cloistered himself in the great library, pulling all his spell books from the shelves. With Atael’s help, he carried all two hundred and sixty-seven books to his workroom. For the next four hours, he strengthened the protection spells on each book, ensuring that the same fate would not befall them as had his personal journal. Should any of the books be removed from the boundaries of the outer wall, the thief would find himself frozen for all time, a statue of ice incapable of melting. The book would be safely transported back to the workroom.

By evening, Aidan was quite hungry and went upstairs to change clothes for dinner. Slipping off the robe, he caught sight of himself in the full-length, gilded mirror. After two-thousand three-hundred fifty-six years, he looked no more than twenty-seven. He combed his fingers through his waist-length, auburn hair before turning away to dress. While he much preferred his robe, for dinner he slipped on a pair of crimson pants and a black tunic. After pulling on a pair of knee boots, he started downstairs.

His guests—King Tordis, Janil, Janil’s wife Leighette, and their daughter Aril—were seated around the circular table. When he entered the room, they all stood. He smiled as he took his own seat. Once he was seated, he nodded and the others sat down once more.

“I thank you all for joining me this evening,” he said as servants began bringing food and wine. “It is not often I have so many visitors. King Tordis, I’m sure you know Janil and his family. Janil works in my stables and is the preferred groom for my stallion, Destrier.”

King Tordis bowed his head in acknowledgement, as did the others. “It is a pleasure. I have heard much in your favor regarding the handling of horses.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Janil said. “It is an honor to work for Master Loriel.” Dinner was peaceful, a much needed time of relaxation for Aidan. The issue of his book ate away at him, but with the wine flowing and the jovial laughter from his guests, he was able to relax for the first time since the night before. By the time the meal was over, Aril was leaning half-asleep against her mother and Janil said their goodbyes, taking care to thank Aidan no less than six times for the meal.

King Tordis joined Aidan in the great library, where they sat talking and drinking more wine until nearly dawn of the next morning. He saw the king to his chambers himself, having given Atael the evening off, and then he retired to his own room. Sleep came swiftly and with it, the hope that his book would soon be returned to his hands.