Pearl shut her eyes, her expression composed for thought. “They took a variety of things. Magical artifacts were forbidden, but a wide variety of personal items were brought with them. The Twelve were willing to accept exile rather than resist to the point of devastation. That meant they were permitted to take the means to assure they would be comfortable while they made the transition.”
“Did they take anything living?” Brenda asked.
“Other than the young emperor,” Pearl said, “not that I know. They were not permitted servants or acolytes, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That,” Brenda admitted, “or some—I don’t know, magical animal or something?”
“Could they have gotten away with some part of the royal regalia?” Nissa asked. “I don’t know … some crown or scepter or sacred jewel?”
“I doubt it,” Pearl said, “but it is possible. What is maddening, is that whatever this thing is, we have it, we know we have it, but we don’t know that we shouldn’t have it. I can’t imagine that if someone walked off with a sanctified item they wouldn’t know it was something they shouldn’t have.”
Des had been drumming on the table with the tips of his fingers, “But the thing is, we don’t know. Does that mean that one of the Thirteen Orphans might know, but can’t tell us because of the loss of memory? Or did that ‘we’ apply to all of the Thirteen, and one of us has whatever it is sitting up in the attic, and these invaders are rummaging through memories looking for clues? That would explain why they’re not killing us off. They need something we can only give while alive.”
“And it may be something,” Nissa said, bouncing in her chair, “that one of the four of us possess, since if they’d found it, they would certainly have packed up and gone home.”
“Possibly,” Pearl said. “Now, I recall that when I was a child …”
“Whoa!” Riprap said, holding up one broad hand, the pinkish tan of the palm a vivid contrast to the darker skin that covered the rest of him. “Pearl, are you just speculating, or do you have something specific in mind?”
Pearl looked a little surprised at being interrupted, but said courteously, “Just speculating, I suppose.”
“We can speculate,” Riprap went on, “about things we can’t know—like what they’re looking for and why they want our memories all encased in crystal—for a long time, and even if we touch on the right answer, we won’t know. Before we get too far off the events of last night, I’d like to note one thing that really puzzles me.”
“Go ahead,” Pearl prompted. “You’re right. Even speculation would be more productive if we have time to think through possibilities.”
Riprap looked at each of them before going on, as if he could somehow read the answer in their eyes.
“I guess it’s two questions, really. Why did Brenda dream what she did? And why, having dreamed what she did, could she wake up? The rest of us, even Lani, were dead to the world.”
“Let’s start with the dreaming,” Des said, content to shift from one puzzle to another. “Does anyone other than Brenda remember dreaming anything that could be even remotely connected to what happened? Stretch. I’ll accept dreams about real snakes, or dreams about burglars.”
One by one, he looked at the others, and three heads shook “no.”
“Me neither,” Des said, “so Riprap is right to focus in on this. Why did Brenda dream so accurately that she walked right out into the scene she’d dreamed, but none of the rest of us even dreamed a shadow of it?”
“I didn’t know I was dreaming true,” Brenda hastened to clarify. “When I heard someone moving in the hall, I just thought it was Riprap going down for a snack.”
“So you said,” Pearl agreed, her tone comforting, but slightly absent. “I wonder if this is connected to the little rat Brenda manifested when the Three-Legged Toad appeared. She is the first heir apparent I have known ever to do such a thing.”
Nissa nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ve been wondering, could it be something Gaheris Morris did before his memory was taken from him?”
Everyone looked at Nissa, and as no one interrupted, Nissa went on, her words almost stammered as she thought aloud.
“I mean … What I’m trying to say is, if someone came after me, and Lani was anywhere near, I wouldn’t be thinking so much about me as about keeping Lani safe. Right? And, well, what if that’s what happened with Gaheris? He saw this warrior type, sword and all, coming at him, and he thinks, ‘I’m done for, but they’re not going to get my Breni,’ and so he … I don’t know, tries to give her the Rat, pass on her inheritance, do something so that she’ll be protected. I know that’s what I’d try and do. I mean, not that specifically, but maybe I would, since I’d want to do what I could to keep Lani safe.”
Nissa heaved out a great sigh. “I didn’t put that very well, but what do you think?”
“I think,” Pearl said in what Brenda thought of as her “approving director” voice, “that you may have hit on something. The first Ox sought and chose her heir, and since her inner Ox agreed that Hua would be suitable, the power passed. Gaheris has never minded that his daughter, not one of his sons, was his heir apparent. He had come here to have Brenda initiated. Perhaps all that intention did something. He may have meant to cast some sort of protection on her, but when his memory—his Ratness—was torn from him, what happened instead was that a fragment lodged in Brenda and held. Very, very interesting indeed.”
A slightly awkward silence followed as everyone studied Brenda, as if they should be able to see some sign of this transference. Who knew? Maybe Des or Pearl could. For herself, Brenda had to resist an urge to reach up and feel if she suddenly had rat’s ears on top of her head or whiskers under her nose.
Riprap was the first to break the silence. “That connection would explain Brenda dreaming true, and her ability to resist the spell that made the rest of us sleep. The Snake had to have some sort of magical hold on Gaheris, because he was guiding her into the house. She probably imposed that through his captured memories, since she was making him believe he was back in the days when he’d sneak in and out of this house. Since Gaheris wasn’t included in the spell that made us all sleep, once Brenda got scared enough to wake up, neither was she.”
“So,” Des said, and he sounded very pleased, “to this point we’ve assumed that we only had the Tiger, Rabbit, Rooster, and Dog—now it seems we have at least a little of the Rat as well. I feel strangely encouraged by this.”
“I,” Brenda said, “only feel very, very strange about it. Very strange indeed.”
“And so you should, my dear,” Pearl assured her, leaning over the table and patting her hand. “When you are even a fragment of the Thirteen Orphans, feeling strange is the most natural thing in the world.”
22
Soon after Brenda returned from lunch with Gaheris, Pearl called another meeting. This time when they settled around the long table, Riprap was restless.
“I’d hoped,” he grumbled, “to make some amulets to replace those Brenda used last night.”
“I understand,” Pearl agreed. “We are all so much more aware of how vulnerable we are. Earlier we assessed the situation and what we had learned from it. Now we must plan how to take advantage of this new situation. The Dragon and the Snake are firmly bound, but if one of their allies chooses to defy them rather than honor our treaty, then we are all newly vulnerable once more.”
“Nice trick,” Des commented, “making the Dragon and the Snake responsible for the behavior of their own people.”
“Thank you. It was necessary. Otherwise, all they needed to do was bring another of their number here.”
Riprap was frowning at her. “But now that I think about it, Pearl, you took great pains to protect our friends and allies. Although you negotiated with the Dragon to assure that our friends and allies would be safe, you overlooked ourselves.”
Nissa cut in, “And Foster doesn’t quite fall into ‘friends and allies’ ca
tegory, does he? Or rather ‘Foster’ does, but not the person they think of as their Tiger. The Snake wants that Tiger very badly.”
Pearl shook her head. “Overlooked? I did not. I knew without asking that our safety was a point on which the Dragon would not negotiate. He had already refused to return the stolen memories of the other nine of the Thirteen Orphans—even in order to free his daughter. How could I expect him to give up the opportunity to complete the set? I rather suspect that if I had exhibited the temerity to suggest such a thing, the Dragon would have repeated that sad comment about there being other Snakes.”
“True,” Riprap said, “But I’m wondering … Did you have something else in mind? Did you mean to leave the Dragon wondering if, in your anxiety to protect friends and allies, you had overlooked something? He won’t be sure, but he’ll wonder.”
“And so will the Snake,” Nissa said. “And she’s shown herself willing to act where her father would not. She’s the one who has shown herself willing to challenge our defenses—not her father.”
Riprap leaned back and gave a gusty sigh, half admiration, half exasperation. “So that’s why Pearl didn’t write her treaty to include our personal immunity from attack. If she had done so, then the Dragon would have the right to request the same immunity for himself and the Snake. That would not suit your plan at all.”
Pearl nodded. “And I do have a plan. We have now neutralized the threat that the Dragon held over those we love. That means the Snake is once again vulnerable—and, for all the Dragon spoke so lightly about there being other Snakes, there would be no replacing his daughter. We have bait to lure that Snake—a rather nice young man we call Foster. Moreover, Foster should be perfectly safe in the role of snake bait, as he would be little good to her dead.”
Des tugged at his mustache with the hand that was not resting on Bonaventure’s back. “I wish I was so certain. I keep thinking of the story ‘The Lady or the Tiger.’”
“Appropriate, I suppose. She is a lady, he a tiger. I recall Stockton’s story as well. It is built around an ethical conundrum. The lady in question loves a man, but must choose between his being killed or being given in marriage to another woman. Yes. The story rather emphasizes that the lady in question might have a nasty enough temper to prefer him dead.”
“So if the Snake can’t recapture Foster,” Des said with heavy patience, “she might try to harm him so that no one else—particularly our young Ratling, the same young woman who scotched the Snake’s plans the last time—can have him.”
Pearl glanced over at Brenda, but although a touch of color had risen to the young woman’s ivory cheeks, her expression remained very neutral.
“So there is a risk to Foster,” Pearl said. “But no greater than to any of us—less so, in fact. We will protect him and Brenda, if she will agree to participate.”
Brenda inclined her head slightly, and Riprap frowned, tapping one broad fingertip on the table.
“As I see your plan, when the Snake comes for Foster, we capture her. Then we offer her to her father in trade for the stolen memories.”
“For them,” Pearl agreed, “and, if at all possible, the means of restoring them to their owners. Des and I have not yet figured out how to break the spell without risking damage to the memories. Even if he would make a partial trade, we would be far ahead of where we are now.”
“Your plan is interesting,” Riprap admitted, “but it relies a great deal on the Snake acting as you predict. And the Dragon didn’t make the trade when the Snake put herself into our hands … .”
“That time he had a means to threaten us,” Pearl said. “As I said, our treaty has taken that from him—and I do not believe he will abandon his daughter. He might abandon ‘the Snake,’ perhaps, but not his daughter, Honey Dream.”
“Perhaps,” Riprap said, “but can we place so much on your guess as to how she will react?”
“If the Snake does not act of her own accord,” Pearl said, glancing again at Brenda, “I believe we can prompt her. Young women in love are not rational.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Des laughed.
“Young men, either,” Des said. “Young anythings. Actually, I’m not sure love is rational no matter what the age of those involved. Very well, we can try to lure the Snake.”
Brenda listened as Pearl outlined her plan. She knew everyone expected her to be the one to protest, but she didn’t intend to do so.
She hadn’t liked Miss Honey Dream the Snake one bit. Not only had the Snake bragged about Foster being her “beloved,” like that made him her property or something, but she’d used Dad like some sort of creepy puppet, and had tried to disable—maybe even kill—Brenda herself.
The idea of having the Snake’s arrogance turned into the means of undoing their enemy’s carefully worked out plans made Brenda quite happy. Anyhow, Brenda had something else to worry about, but she kept her peace until Des and Pearl were done.
After the plan had been outlined, Des and Pearl invited questions. Brenda didn’t ask any, just listened intently, drawing elaborate curved designs of snakes on the pages of her notebook. She made them cross-eyed and rather stupid-looking, all twisted together after the fashion of Celtic knotwork.
Riprap had a few good questions about logistics. Nissa added her concerns that they might be overreaching themselves. Nissa also made quite clear she wasn’t interested in taking part in any scheme that might remove the protections that had been placed around her daughter, sisters, and extended group of friends and family.
Brenda could feel when all gazes came to rest on her. She dotted in the eyes on her latest snake and looked up.
“What?”
“You’ve been very quiet, Brenda,” Des said. “Do you have any questions?”
“No. Not really questions, at least. I have been wondering how we’ll keep the Snake from getting suspicious that this is a trap. She’s not only got us to worry about, she’s got her dad, too. I met him, remember, and he’s not going all hormonal over a cute guy. He’s going to be suspicious, and even if he can’t convince the Snake to stay clear, he’s going to have made her more careful. I mean, I know I’d be more careful if for no other reason than I wouldn’t want to screw up twice. If the Snake falls for this at all, it’s going to be because she thinks she can pull it off, not because she can’t keep her hands off Foster. I mean, she didn’t come charging to the rescue until she came up with a plan she thought would work.”
“Good point,” Pearl said, “and something we should remember. Snakes are not as magical as dragons, but they are very, very cunning. So you have no problem with our using Foster—and possibly you—to draw the Snake out?”
“Nope, not as long as you and Des aren’t automatically thinking the Snake is going to come running the moment Foster is outside the wards.”
Pearl pressed, and Brenda didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. “You understand that it puts not only each of us, but also Foster in jeopardy? Des and I will create amulets that will enable someone to watch you from a distance, and for help to arrive swiftly, but there will be a period of time when you must manage on your own.”
“I followed that,” Brenda said, deciding that she was amused, not annoyed.
Pearl studied her. “Then why do I have a feeling you’re holding something back?”
Brenda met the older woman’s gaze straight on. “Because I am, but it’s not about this plan. I can live with it, even if I’m not sure it will work. What I want to talk about is something you and Des seem to have overlooked in your analysis of what happened last night.”
Pearl looked momentarily offended, so much so that Brenda would not have been surprised to hear her snarl.
“Overlooked?”
“Yeah. My dad … and what the Snake was able to make him do. And what she or her dad might be able to make the others do—the other ones whose memories they have. They swore not to cause harm to them, but I think the treaty gives them a loophole of their own on th
at point. Would it be ‘harm’ to make one of the Twelve do something dangerous? I don’t mean something like putting a gun to their own heads, just something not quite right—breaking into a house, for example. What about wandering out in traffic? I think that our families are pretty safe, but those nine whose memories the Dragon and the Snake still hold, they could be pretty vulnerable.”
Pearl had pulled out a copy of the treaty, not one of the handwritten ones, but one of those run through the duplicating machine. Her eyes narrowed, and Brenda watched as they darted back and forth, reviewing certain lines.
“I hate to admit it,” Pearl said, “but I may have made an error. If the Dragon and the Snake can manipulate the other nine through their captured memories—and we have good reason to believe they can—then our associates are indeed more vulnerable than I had imagined. How could I have overlooked that!”
Nissa bent a worried frown into a smile of reassurance. “Because you were snapped out of a solid night’s sleep and into a fight? Because thinking about what had been done to Gaheris, who, after all, was safe upstairs, didn’t seem as important as protecting those who were outside your wards?”
Pearl still looked annoyed at herself, but she nodded at Nissa. “I appreciate your kind words. Still …”
Brenda cut in. “Pearl. I didn’t think of it either, then. It was only this afternoon that I started getting worried. Dad and I were out eating and chatting, and I was jumping at shadows, even though I knew it was unlikely anything would happen. But I got to thinking about how our friends and allies—especially those whose memories have been stolen—could be manipulated in ways that couldn’t precisely be defined as harm.”
Brenda took a deep breath and went on. “Look. I think your plan to use Foster as bait is a good one. In fact, I think we need to go with it more than ever, because if we just sit in this house protected by the strength of your and Nissa’s wards, then the Snake and the Dragon are going to have no choice but to try and draw us out. The easiest way to do that would be to harm someone we care about.”
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