by Dawn Cook
“Useless,” she whispered, knowing he would take it as defiance, not truth. Frightened, she felt Beast stir. Alissa wanted nothing more than to leave, but there was nowhere to go.
Earan’s face went red under his beard.
There was a slight pressure upon Alissa’s awareness as someone tried to edge into her thoughts. Already unnerved, she sent a blistering response out and slapped it away. Much to her surprise, Connen-Neute jumped. He slipped from the room in a hush of black and gray fabric. No one else saw him go. Beast was fully awake, and Alissa turned their attention back to Earan.
“Who,” the heavy Keeper snarled, “brought you to the Hold?”
Alissa knees turned to wet rags. Feeling the beginnings of panic, she took a gasping breath and held it as she fought the Hold’s truth ward.
“Earan, leave off.” Nisi had stood; her thin face was pinched.
Earan shook off Breve’s restraining hand. “Who dressed you in Keeper garb?”
“That’s enough,” Breve commanded.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Earan shouted. He turned to her. “Who’s your Master, girl!”
Alissa’s pulse pounded. She was trapped in a nightmare. He had to stop!
“Tell me!” Earan demanded, and she felt a buildup of energy about her source caused by her fright. She was about to loose an unconscious pulse of force, and in the state she was in, it was likely to do someone considerable damage. “Tell me now!” Earan thundered, and the level reached its threshold and very quietly passed it.
Time seemed to slow as Alissa felt her sphere of will form about Earan. She despaired as she found enough force in it to burn his tracings to slag. It was too late to draw it back. But she could harness the energy before it did any damage. Immediately she formed a containment field above Earan and set a ward of illumination in it. There was barely enough energy in it to keep it running; it was unnoticed. But it wouldn’t be for long.
Alissa closed her eyes against the coming flash. Her wildly released energy slipped into the ward instead of Earan’s tracings, drawn by the promise of an easier path. The soundless boom was red against her eyelids. There were cries of surprise. Lodesh’s hand fell away.
Heart thudding wildly, she found herself leaping toward Earan. In her concentration to save Earan’s tracings, Beast had taken control.
Alissa crashed into Earan, her knees landing on his chest to pin him against the table. “She doesn’t want to answer,” Beast snarled through her. “And if you don’t stop, I will rip your throat out.” Her lips were a finger’s width from his face. His eyes had glazed with fear.
“Beast!” Alissa admonished in her thoughts. With a jolt, her alter consciousness realized what she had done and hid herself in the deepest corner of Alissa’s mind, mortified. The ferocity disappeared from Alissa. “I—I’m sorry,” Alissa stammered, sliding from his chest and to the floor. Uncertain and afraid, she backed up almost into the fire, her arms clasped about her. Everyone was staring at her in wide-eyed shock.
“The Wolves take you,” Earan whispered hoarsely, covering his fright with anger as he straightened. “You have a source. The foothills squatter has a source. You’re a rogue Keeper!”
Nisi gasped, going white. Alissa stiffened. Rogue Keepers had their tracings burned to an unusable ash when found.
“It fits,” Earan said into the frightened silence. “It explains her clothes and why she was dumped in the garden with no boots. I think not only is she rogue, but insane!”
“Mad?” Breve glanced at Alissa and away.
“I say she was drawn to a Master when he or she stayed too long in one spot, much as Keepers did before the Hold was made,” Earan said, his words loud and harsh. “And realizing she was mad, the Master instructed her in the old school, alone and unchaperoned, until she knew enough to persuade the rest from burning her tracings to a commoner.”
There was a deathly silence. Alissa tried to still her fright. They wouldn’t burn her tracings. She would talk to someone, convince them who she was, but if she did, they certainly would think she was mad. How could she convince anyone she wasn’t when she thought she might be?
“I will see her tried as a rogue Keeper and her tracings burned to ash!” Earan shouted. He stomped out into the unseen great hall, leaving a cold in Alissa no fire could drive away.
Nisi cleared her throat, and seeing Alissa standing with her arms clenched about her, the young woman held out her hands in a formal gesture of greeting. “Leave it to the men to foul a simple introduction.” She sighed. “I’m Nisi Tak, Keeper.” Her hands were light and cool on Alissa’s hastily proffered palms. “I apologize for Earan—”
“You’re from the foothills,” Alissa blurted, then winced. She hadn’t told Nisi her name yet. “Alissa Meson,” she said.
“Also from the foothills?” Nisi asked gently, and Alissa nodded, conscious of her scandalous mix of plains and hills features for the first time in months. “I’m afraid your welcome hasn’t been one of our best efforts,” Nisi continued.
“But it will be the best remembered,” Ren said, and Alissa smiled thinly. Her knees still felt weak, but at least no one was shouting at her. This wasn’t right. None of it. She felt ill.
Nisi turned. “Alissa? This is Ren. He’s a student.”
Ren waved a distant greeting. Having seen Earan pinned to the table, the young man looked none too eager to get close. “No last name?” Alissa asked.
Breve stepped forward. “Ren wandered in when he was five,” he said. “He has no name but the one he gave himself.” Alissa nodded, and Breve engulfed her hand in his. “Breve,” he said in his somber voice. “Keeper. I need no woman to make my introductions.”
Nisi cleared her throat with a hint of warning. “And you already know Lodesh?”
Alissa’s unease rushed back. “Apparently not,” she said, and the tension in the room visibly relaxed.
“Then allow me,” Nisi said. “Alissa, this is Lodesh. He’s a Keeper.”
Lodesh stepped before her. His green eyes were eager, and his smile was as familiar and comforting as the morning sun. “I’m glad to properly make your acquaintance, milady.” Taking her hand in his, he exerted a small pressure, a question to the possibility of more than the friendship he now offered. And where once she would have been disconcerted, she was now only comforted. This was her Lodesh. He was the only thing that hadn’t changed, the only person who was familiar, and her shattered soul grasped and held on to that, bracing her sanity upon his immutability.
“A pleasure,” she murmured, meeting his ardent gaze with her own as she often did when they teased each other. Much to her surprise, Lodesh dropped her hand, clearly taken aback.
“By the Wolves,” Ren breathed. “She didn’t blush!”
“No, but Lodesh did,” Breve said with a snort.
Nisi, too, was smiling. “That leaves Connen-Neute,” and she turned to the empty hearth to make a small sound of dismay. “Oh, well. You will undoubtedly make his acquaintance on his terms, anyway. We’ve lost our spotter, gentlemen. Perhaps we should call it a night.”
“Aw, come on, Nisi,” Ren complained. “Just one more hand.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Don’t imagine I didn’t see you stacking the deck.”
“Nisi!” the youth cried, his eyes wide in an overdone hurt. “I’m too good to cheat.”
Nisi frowned. “The first is a queen,” she said, sounding bored. The next, a beggar.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, his gaze dropping. “It’s late, and I pulled field duty again.”
“Will you do me a favor then?” Nisi said, and Ren froze, hand outstretched to his cards. “Redal-Stan should make Alissa’s acquaintance now, before previous commitments move it to a ridiculous point of his day. She needs a place to bunk, and much as I hate to admit it, Earan’s accusations should be headed off before he has time to bandy them about.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Ren said as he nervously shuffled the cards.
“Someone needs to wake him up if Connen-Neute hasn’t already.”
“No.” Ren backed from the table. “The last time someone did that, they were—”
“I’m sure he will apologize,” Nisi continued as if that would make all the difference.
“Uh-uh.” White-faced, Ren continued to shake his head.
“The third card was a page,” Nisi said lightly. “And you were going to give me a wolf.”
“All right. I’ll go.”
Breve clapped Ren across the shoulders. “I’ll go with you. With two of us, he won’t know who to get angry at, and we’ll be able to explain before he does any serious damage.”
“Ashes, thanks.” It was possibly the most relieved voice Alissa had ever heard. Ren was hardly old enough to be out from under his mother’s apron strings.
Breve laughed, his musical voice pushing out the last vestiges of Earan’s ugly scene. With a gesture of farewell, they left, the old lightly supporting the young.
Nisi watched them go. Her eyes still held a smile as she turned to Alissa, but they widened upon seeing Alissa’s dread. “Oh, Alissa,” she said. “Redal-Stan isn’t as bad as they make out. Of all the Masters, he’s the most approachable. And by the time he gets down here, he will be fully awake. He’s quite nice then.” Brow furrowed, she bit her lip.
Lodesh found Alissa’s hands. “She’s right,” he said. “Redal-Stan is my teacher, and I’ve found he has a soft spot for handsome, comely women such as yourself.”
Nisi shook her head in exasperation and turned away.
“Thank you, Lodesh.” Alissa acknowledged his compliment with a preoccupied smile. He hesitated, clearly unused to such a graceful acceptance from someone just met.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Nisi interrupted. “Redal-Stan appreciates his tea. Lodesh?” She grimaced as he was making eyes at Alissa. “Would you help me in the kitchen?”
“You know how to make tea, Nisi,” he said, not looking away from Alissa.
“I want the nice teapot. The one Keribdis made.” Nisi put a hand on her hip and pursed her lips, waiting. “It’s too high for me to reach,” she finished pointedly.
Lodesh sighed, then executed a dramatic, extravagant bow. “I will return,” he said. Spinning upon a heel, he strode dramatically into the kitchen, his head held high.
Nisi and Alissa exchanged knowing looks. “Don’t mind Lodesh,” Nisi whispered as he disappeared. “He’s a confirmed bachelor. He means nothing by all his words.”
“Yes. I know.”
“Well, you would be the first to recognize it so quickly,” she said, turning away as Lodesh’s voice came filtering back in.
“Which one is it, Nisi?”
5
Alone at last, Alissa inspected the dining hall. It wasn’t much different, eerily so. The drapes were the wrong color, but they still shifted in the night breeze, ushering in the scent of chives and sage from the kitchen garden. The long, black tables were the same, as were the high-backed chairs. There was no picture above the mantel, and the space looked barren without the large canvas done in swirling blues she had found in storage last winter. A woven mat had replaced the rug she and Strell had lugged up from the annexes.
Strell, she thought miserably. What had she done? Feeling disconnected, she sank into her chair, the only thing comfortable in the room to sit on. And it was her chair. The colors were brighter and the stuffing was distributed evenly, but it smelled right: clover and book paste.
She curled up and anxiously waited for the daunting presence of Redal-Stan. The fire was warm and soothing, and the soft, give-and-take of high and low murmurs of Nisi and Lodesh in the kitchen brought back memories of before her papa left home and he and her mother would talk long into the night. Alissa’s eyes closed, and she must have fallen asleep, for suddenly the acidic smell of tea washed over her, and a new, masculine voice said, “She called you what?”
“The last Warden of Ese’Nawoer,” Lodesh said, his voice hushed so as not to wake her. Obligingly, Alissa kept her eyes shut and her ears open, wondering if it was Redal-Stan.
“But you aren’t in line for the title,” the voice said. His accent hinted at plains, and her interest sharpened. “It would go to your uncle’s children first, then your father, or even your brothers or sister if necessary. No offense, Lodesh, but you aren’t even under consideration.”
“None taken,” Lodesh said in obvious relief.
There was a hiss of fabric, and the warmth of the fire was eclipsed. “So who is she?” came the voice so close Alissa’s eyes nearly flew open.
Lodesh sighed. “I don’t know. I found her in the garden.”
“In her stockings?”
There was a pause, and Alissa could almost see Lodesh grin. “She sounds like she is from Ese’Nawoer, but I don’t know her.”
“You know all the pretty girls in the city, eh?” the voice teased.
“I know all the girls, pretty or not,” Lodesh shot back, sounding wounded. “And Redal-Stan, despite what you may hear tomorrow, she isn’t insane.”
There was the sound of the fire being rearranged, and a flush of heat soothed her sudden angst. It was Redal-Stan. She cracked her lids, finding the room’s shadowed lumps lit by the fire.
“Mad?” the Master breathed from the hearth. “Is that the general consensus?”
“Earan,” Lodesh nearly spat the name, “is demanding she be tried as rogue.”
“Harrumph?” It was a rumble of disbelief, and she shut her eyes.
“She nearly burnt his tracings with an unconscious pulse,” Lodesh said. “It was too strong to be unsupplemented. She has a source.”
“In possession of a source and lacking control? This isn’t good,” Redal-Stan said flatly. Alissa felt him lean forward, and she fought to keep her breathing slow. “I can tell you disagree,” he said. There was a hesitation. “Please,” Redal-Stan insisted. “If it impacts my decision over the small problem before us, you should tell me.”
“Alissa is anything but careless with her restraint,” Lodesh said reluctantly. “At the risk of bearing witness against my brother, you should know he goaded her, using the truth ward to go beyond what a student is capable of withstanding.”
“He has done this before?” Redal-Stan interrupted icily.
“She let slip a pulse,” Lodesh said. “But she recognized it and put up a ward of illumination to draw it in before it finished coalescing. The flash was bright enough to stun my eyes!” he whispered fiercely. “When I could see again, she was pinning him to the table!”
“She has a Keeper’s skills,” Redal-Stan muttered, “a Keeper’s strength, and possibly a Keeper’s restraint.” He sighed. “But no Master claiming responsibility. We have a very large problem before us. Any ideas who has made it so?”
“I’d rather not say.” Lodesh sounded miserable. “She mentioned someone, but . . .”
“Talo-Toecan?” Redal-Stan guessed, and a wash of alarm tensed Alissa.
“You know?” Lodesh exclaimed, but clearly Redal-Stan wasn’t listening.
“I have to call him back,” the Master said. “This is a grievous claim. It must be settled.”
Panic filled her, and she couldn’t believe they didn’t see her stiffen. She would get home, she had to, but she couldn’t let Useless see her in the interim. He hadn’t known her when she met him. She couldn’t let him see her now! “No!” she sent wordlessly to Redal-Stan, and she heard him grunt in surprise. “Don’t tell him!”
“But my summons can wait until morning,” Redal-Stan finished smoothly. “It’s late, Lodesh. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“I, um, would like to see Alissa to her room, if that’s agreeable.”
Redal-Stan snorted. “She looks comfortable enough where she is.”
“In your chair?” Lodesh whispered urgently. “You never let anyone sit in your chair, much less sleep in it!”
“I don’t know where to put her,” Redal-Stan said patiently. “
Once I know if she is a Keeper or student, I will assign her a bunk. I just hope she’s a student. There’re no acceptable empty rooms in the Keepers’ halls.”
“I’ll stay with her here, then,” Lodesh valiantly persisted.
“Go to bed.” It wasn’t a request anymore. “We don’t know if Meson is her maiden name or matron. It would be unseemly for you to accompany her alone, especially at rest.”
Alissa’s heart beat six times into the silence. “Of course,” Lodesh agreed, clearly unhappy.
“Good night, Lodesh,” Redal-Stan said dryly as there was a soft rustle and the sound of Lodesh’s footsteps went faint. Only the hiss of the fire on damp wood remained. It was joined by the tinkle of tea filling a cup.
“It’s also unseemly,” Redal-Stan said sourly, “to feign sleep, when one isn’t.”
Chagrined, Alissa opened her eyes. Sitting on the hearthstones, soaking up the warmth and light, was Redal-Stan. Her astonishment grew as she took in his brown eyes—rakus invariably retained their gold eyes when in their human shift— and the telltale marks the desert instilled, marks even his brown Master’s vest and black sash couldn’t hide. His creased, shaven face had the wind-scarred look of one who has seen too many springs spent in want, but it had been tempered by years of abundance. His probing gaze was gentled by wisdom, tamed by the lack of concern. Redal-Stan was at peace with himself, and this she instinctively felt she could trust.
“So,” he drawled, sending a hand across his bald head. “How is it a Keeper has learned to speak soundlessly to both Keeper and Master?” He proffered Alissa a cup of tea.
Her eyes widened as she accepted it. His hand encircling the cup was like hers! “You must have been Talo-Toecan’s teacher,” she blurted. “He never told me you were born human!”
“What do you mean, have been Talo-Toecan’s teacher,” he said. Then his mouth fell open and he blinked. He set his cup on the flagstones with a sharp crack and shook the tea from his hand. “By my Master’s Wolves!” he exclaimed. “How do you know that?” His eyes hardened. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Name, title, and responsibilities.”