by Gin Hollan
Suddenly the door opened and a woman's silhouette filled the frame. “You are never going to forgive me for this, but I have no choice.” Her sister's voice rang out a little too loud, a little too jubilant.
“Wait, how did you get here? You're supposed to be in prison,” Arabeth blurted.
“Your world is still far too black and white, far too simple, sister. That's why mother passed you over to marriage instead of bringing you into the business.”
“Espionage is not the family business. Banking and finance are.” The habit of debate taught at the kitchen table in their youth started easily, as if the grudges were intentional. Arabeth shook her head. It was habit, for her part. “Are you here to help or hinder?”
“That's the arrogance I've missed. I really should let you sit and rot for a day or two, shouldn't I? Hunger may change your attitude. Or more likely thirst.” Her sister crossed her arms and stood back on one heel. “Still, I am here on orders, and we are sisters.” She didn't move, as though she were enjoying the moment.
“Who's orders?” Arabeth asked. There was no way this was Andun. The kid was new to the job, but he had been trained to rule a country since he first started to walk and talk, in the ancient tradition of royals. You didn’t just let prisoners out because a friend had been kidnapped.
“You've already guessed, if the depth of your brows furrow is any indication.”
“Fine, unchain me.” She’d have a talk with Andun about this later.
“I will, I will.”
Arabeth felt her teeth clench, seeing her sister would take a moment to enjoy this rare moment of power. She didn't need to wait for the gloating to pass. She bent down to pick up the straight pin that had slipped out of her pant cuff. She didn't need to owe Maralise a favour, she thought. She could pick her own cuffs and her sister knew that.
“Oh, alright, I'll get them,” Maralise sighed and walked over.
“I'm not owing you a favour,” Arabeth said.
“This is clearing a debt, not starting a new one.”
“You can't play this both ways. Andun won't owe you anything for this. Royalty doesn't work that way.”
“I've got what I want already,” she shrugged. “You really don't trust me, do you?”
“Freedom? To what end?”
“I am his … promised bride.”
“What?!” Arabeth nearly screamed in her surprise.
“Right now it's a technicality, but we'll make it real. He thinks he's using me as a decoy to fend off the countries and politicians looking to suit him up for the altar. It was Mother's idea, but he really is adorable.”
Arabeth's heart thumped hard in her chest a couple times from the shock. Yes, her family would find a way to make that betrothal into a marriage. She hadn't thought they were this interested in power, but evidence was now building to the contrary.
Andun trusted them based on their being her relatives, she'd wager. Still, it could work out. They were decent people, if a little odd in their approach to justice. A king with a thriving intelligence network run by his own queen would be more stable than any.
“Stop over-thinking this. I have a horse outside for you.”
“Wait, do you know about Howard, about his objectives? I would owe you for this favour, if you would find out the details and tell them truthfully and unembellished back to me.”
Maralise's cheek twitched as though she hid a smile. “Right now he's gathering allies. His purpose is still vague, but I'll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you, Maralise.” As the chains fell off her, she went for her satchel. She'd need it. “Where is the nearest lyar?”
“South west, about 30 kilometres. Where are you going?”
“To research something.”
Maralise's frowned. “You are a weird one.” Shaking her head, she dropped the last cuff off Arabeth and walked out.
Arabeth retrieved her satchel and the ball Graham had sent. She'd have to thank him for that. Too bad he and whomever helped him with this didn't know about Andun's separate plan.
“Out of curiosity, how did you find me?” Arabeth asked as she climbed up on the tall, grey mare that awaited her.
“I can't give away all my secrets, sister.” She mounted a trim, mixed-breed sorrel gelding and waved as she turned and rode away to the west.
Maralise, engaged to marry a king? Specifically, a young king only recently coronated and without royal parents or grandparents to guide him or back him up … She'd have some time to think it over as she rode, but she really didn't want to. Politics wasn't her game.
She glanced back. Maralise was following, but not at a catching pace. It struck Arabeth as odd that her only sister lived at an emotional distance from everyone in order to do her spy work. That was a sacrifice she wasn't sure she could make. She realized she'd been doing the same thing, in her own way and a shiver went down her spine. Was it a family trait?
Arabeth stood in the lyar debating her destination. She ought to go back to the castle and have Melanie search for Tamden or Howard. But she also had a good reason to go to Blastborn. She wanted to ask Graham how he’d known where to send the communication crystal, and how had it spoken the message, as though via speaker. She patted the small bulge in her satchel, looking forward to reverse engineering it. It was a brilliant innovation.
Innovation … suddenly she remembered - she'd left her over-night bag at the castle. If anyone got a good look at it, they'd realize it was a little lighter than it should be, but probably not why. She'd stored it against the wall. The stone floor and wall should keep it cool enough that it wouldn't hover, right?
She closed her eyes and sighed. She had to go back to the castle. That one reason outweighed all the reasons not to. Maralise would be there, sure, but they didn't have to interact. Grab her bag and go. That was the plan. And she'd be careful not to follow any strange men through random portals this time.
?
It sounded mad, but she had to guard the secret of that metal. Walking over to where the crystal sat, she replaced the ones that let her transport. This time, she set them to go to the lyar nearest Andun's castle. Still, that would put her a long ride away. Maybe she should take the shuttle.
Was she collecting horses, now? With Kate as her own horse, then buying Daven to get around in Vensay, this was three. She laughed and pet its neck. It was a fine horse - lively, well cared for, and, upon checking its teeth, she estimated it was still under eight years old. Well trained for that age, she thought. The travel by lyar had only spooked it once - not bad for an Andalusian that had no reason yet to trust her.
She stopped. Her sister gave her this horse? She'd better check the saddle for listening devices or other technology. She uncinched the saddle and almost took it off before deciding she should be tracked as far as home. Then she could run the saddle under some magnets in her large workshop, destroying any trackers.
She'd have to bring the mare back with her to Vensay, since a horse of this quality was rarely a gift, and never from her sister.
How did so many people know where she’d wound up? It made no sense to her that someone could open a little gap in space enabling them to toss her an item without knowing her location. Even a lyar sent you to a place, not a person.
She looked down at her satchel, momentarily suspecting something was put in there to track her over a great distance. She’d only seen short range ones, like Marble’s collar tracker. She pursed her lips, thinking. Her shoulders dropped as she decided to talk with her mother. If anyone knew, it would be her. A visit with her parents seemed to be necessary.
Enough thinking. She had to get that bag. She could do all the thinking she wanted after that. Mounting, she turned back to the lyar and put in the travel crystal. The horse - she'd have to find out its name - walked like it was old business, and soon she was riding at a slow canter toward Andun's castle.
She didn't want to. Sam was there. Melanie was there. And nothing was the same.
Still,
it was the luggage she was going back for, not her friends. She wasn't that worried. When they came back home, they'd go back to being themselves. She refused to believe that the few months they'd spent away changed who they were at their core. Howard’s theory about the transmitters couldn’t be true.
Suddenly she missed Marble. And home. And normal.
Her melancholy state hadn't changed by the time she reached the guard wall and was waved in. Sam's room was near the front entrance. She didn't go looking for anyone, heading straight for the bag. Finding his room locked, she went to find a guard that might recognize her.
Suddenly Sam was beside her, holding her elbow and guiding her down a narrow hall.
“You need to go,” he said.
She stopped and stared at him, pulling her elbow free of his hold. She'd just come back from a potentially dangerous situation and this was his reaction?
“I need my over-night bag,” she said.
“I noticed something interesting about it and thought you'd want it shipped home as soon as possible. It's gone.”
Surprised by his quick-thinking, she blinked. “That was fast.”
She saw his jaw clench then relax. He was fighting himself on something.
“You understand that a castle has ears,” he leaned in to whisper. “We need to talk elsewhere.”
Calm down, she told herself. You won’t think clearly if you’re angry at him. She had questions, too, and she didn’t want to forget them.
She followed as he led her out of the busy areas. It was late now, and the event the castle had been preparing for that morning had begun. She could hear the clink and scrape of fine cutlery on dinnerware as it echoed out of the great hall. Somehow Sam was here with her instead of coordinating security or eating. Her stomach grumbled at her exclusion.
Seeing the door to his quarters ahead, she relaxed.
Inside, he held out a desk chair for her. As she sat, he walked to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. “You'll never guess who tonight's special guest is.”
“Maralise.”
His expression froze, then he laughed. “All right, maybe you will.”
“I saw her about half an hour ago. Is that why you want me home?”
“She is being granted one request, and I suspect she wants the wedding moved up. She needs family here to witness, according to local custom.”
“So, it's true. She's going to marry Andun.” She felt her shoulders sink. “Andun deserves someone who will love him. I'm not sure Maralise is capable of that.”
Was that why she'd freed Arabeth - so she could be used in a game of some sort? Standing, she turned and took his hands in hers. “Tell me you're coming, too. Otherwise, I'm not going anywhere.”
“She won't be able to, if you're gone.” He nodded. “My work here is done, so I sent my things home as well.”
“Oh, that's why you're not otherwise occupied.” She looked around, realizing the spartan room was now barren.
“Your disappearance was the perfect opportunity to bow out, actually,” he stood. Keeping hold of her hands, he lifted them, hinting that she should stand as well. “Let's get out of here. You have a horse again.”
Arabeth's face flushed hot for a moment, causing her to pull her hands away. “It's Maralise's. I think it should stay.”
“Actually, it's yours. Andun wanted to gift you one as a thank you for your help with his ascension. That little mare is a direct descendant of … wait, I'll remember … it seemed like an important horse, the way he said it.”
“She's papered?”
“Uh, yes.” He opened his jacket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here. This shows you as owner as well as who her parents and grandparents are.”
Arabeth reached slowly, not sure if she should accept the mare, registered or not. Kate had company now, with Daven. Would a third mare be welcome? Yes, Daven was old, and this new horse was … she looked at the date of birth. She was seven years old.
Still, would she have enough hay? Her back yard had quite a few acres once you passed out the back gate, but three horses would require more maintenance. It wasn't the expense, she realized. It was the added responsibility. Her parents may not have room to board three horses on short notice. She unfolded the paper, reading names she didn't recognize. Arabians were not her usual breed, although she'd heard great things about them.
“We'd better go,” Sam said, squeezing one of her hands.
Just then there was a knock on the door. Sam's face suddenly darkened. Had they taken too long?
“I apologize in advance for this,” he said with a sigh. He pulled off his coat and shirt, tossing them on the bed. “Stand over there, behind the door,” he said, then took hold of the doorknob.
Arabeth's gaze was drawn to him. He wasn't the soft-muscled man he had pretended to be when he was with Sebastian. What was his game, then? She watched as he walked to the door. Staring didn't feel awkward, oddly. Still, it was poor manners. He needed one final touch though, if this was his plan. She reached out and messed up his hair before ducking behind the door.
He opened the door just enough to show his state of partial undress. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“The … the king says there's something quick he needs to talk over with you,” said a young guard.
“I'm a little indisposed. My wife is here and we need … time.” The guard immediately stepped back a pace then stood next to the door frame, looking away. “And we'd rather you were some distance away,” he added.
Arabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing. Boot steps receded to silence before he pushed the door shut. He stared at the back of the door a moment and she wondered what he was thinking.
“Seems like it worked,” she said, turning away.
“It might buy us a few minutes, but Andun will be here next.” He dressed quickly and reopened the door. “Ready?”
She nodded. “But Sam …” she reached out, putting her hand on his arm. “I don't think we should be going back to Blastborn yet.”
“Howard Arba. You are worried he's going to find a way to destroy Blastborn.”
“No, it's never really been Howard. It's Tamden. They think the mountains were manufactured, so to speak, and they want to take them down.”
He opened the door. “Let's talk as we ride.”
// Chapter 17 //
SOON THEY WERE out of the castle and riding hard for the nearest lyar. As well-trained as her new horse was, she wasn't putting it in an underground shuttle car, even with a horse compartment. Also, it was too easy for an outside force to interfere with the shuttle's route. One simple command to reroute the shuttle and they'd be caught.
“I've got to face this head on,” Arabeth said, slowing to a walk. “They are crazy, but there is enough power in the things he can do for this to succeed.”
“All he's been doing is building automatons - hundreds of them.”
“They're decoys.”
“Decoys? How?” Sam asked.
Was he testing her? This seemed like information he should be able to confirm or deny. It was a basic strategy.
“Well, there are a few uses, but I suspect they're be used to cause a distraction. He may also use some of them as guards,” she suggested.
“That means we're back to him moving the mountain range, then. You talk like it's possible.”
“I doubt it is.” She shook her head. “But Howard says that if time is reversed in that spot, the mountain will be undone.”
“Alright, let's talk motive. What's his why?” he asked.
“Howard and Tamden have each given me a different reason. One wants the imprisoned people freed; the other wants Blastborn citizens to be held accountable for the deeds of their ancestors.”
Sam held his silence a moment.
“What they've been doing until now feels a like a false front. It's too scattered.”
“Somehow you're a threat to their real plan, then. They're keeping you distracted. Still, the only other thing they're
doing is purchasing land near Ocean City,” Sam said.
“Land is usually a smart acquisition … Wait, which side of Ocean City?” Her breath caught. Andun's strange hidden storage was accessed from a spot out that way. At least, it could be if they had his mechanical key. They couldn't have stolen that too, could they? “Sam, is Andun's key in a safe place? You remember the one he had to construct in order to prove his claim to the throne - the device that acted like a key.”
“Calm down, I know what you mean. Yes, he took it apart again. I re-hid the pieces myself.”
“I don't trust them. Not for a minute.”
“Let's think this through. We need to answer what they want, and why.”
“Well, if we accept that their cover story also gets them to or near their actual goal, that's a start. Neither is actively trying to depose Andun, so they don't want to rule. They're spending, not making monetary demands based on what Howard can do via the Seer's book. What else?”
Sam stared at Arabeth a moment. “Let's start at square one. Basic human needs - shelter, food, clothing, safety. Personal achievement - belonging, respect, self-acceptance … self-actualization. Which could be their motive?”
“Both of them talk about the people in the mountain. What if someone they need is still imprisoned in the mountain?”
“Or a loved one,” Sam said.
“Since they're all in stasis, I wasn't in a hurry to get them out, but maybe that priority needs to shift. I'll have to get them out now, before they catch on. I was planning on evacuating them to a more humane prison anyway - I'll just have to move that up.”
“Harbertrope may not cooperate. His prison is not designed for hardened criminals.”
“I doubt any of these are hardened criminals, but maybe Andun-” she started, but Sam cut her off.
“He has enough to deal with already. The political, social, and economic challenges involved are not something he's ready for. These aren't his prisoners, anyway. Eltesia did this. Our country.”