Tessili Revenge

by Robin Stephen

  Jey blinked, surprised into stillness. Phril bridled at the threat, rearing back onto his hind legs and flaring his wings. Only Jey’s very firm desire that he not leave her person kept the small creature from flinging himself onto Holdam in a fury. He had grown a little more tractable during their months with the tessilari. A little.

  Holdam’s eyes shifted from Jey’s face to Phril, and it was his turn to go silent with surprise. How Jey wished Elle was here right now. Elle had a way of talking, of smoothing over awkward moments, of putting everyone at ease.

  As Jey wondered at the anger in Holdam’s face and the fear in Biala’s, she realized her mistake. She was wearing the leathers she’d stolen from the academy. They were comfortable and practical, durable and resilient. But if Holdam and Biala had been interrogated by a student after Jey and Elle had left the cheesery, they would doubtless recognize the outfit and associate it with whatever they had suffered that night.

  Jey spoke in a low tone she hoped was soothing. “I’m not what you think I am.”

  Biala spoke next. Her jaw firmed up, and she moved around the table to place her soft, round body between Jey and the girl on the stool, clutching a paring knife. The idea that these two gentle people would react to her presence this way was almost more painful than if they’d actually stabbed her. Biala didn’t address Jey, but spoke to her husband. “This is the one they warned us about,” she said. “Light hair, dark eyes, red tessila.”

  Jey could only guess the experience this couple must have been through after Jey and Elle had fled. Since Elle had modified their memories, they would have forgotten the months of knowing the two girls, of working alongside them in the cheesery. They doubtless would have been told terrible stories and made to promise to report back to the academy if they ever saw Jey or Elle. So this part of their reaction was no surprise.

  What Jey couldn’t figure out was the girl. How had she escaped? And why was she here?

  Jey thought back, and lit on a particular memory. It had happened shortly after Jey and Elle had installed themselves at the cheesery. They hadn’t yet realized, then, how alone they were in this world. They didn’t know wild brillbane had been eradicated, tessili exterminated.

  One afternoon, Elle had asked innocently why there didn’t seem to be any tessili about. Holdam had gone pale and defensive, spluttering that no one in his family had any love for magics.

  Now, a few things clicked in Jey’s mind. She made a tenuous connection, and took a risk. She needed a way to slice through the fear and defensiveness if she was going to help the girl.

  She spoke, injecting her voice with confidence. “Your granddaughter will die if her tessila is not attended to very soon. I can help, but you have to trust me.”

  ◈

  It was midday by the time Jey returned to the shelter. She should have been exhausted. She hadn’t slept since the short nap she’d taken the previous afternoon. She’d spent all night talking to Liam, and all morning trying to bring a tessila back from the dead.

  As she approached the entry hatch, however, Jey felt full of a kind frantic energy, and also a strange sort of joy. Holdam and Biala walked a few steps behind her, the sleeping child cradled in her grandfather’s arms. The girl’s tessila was with Phril on the other side of the stitchring.

  For once, Jey had helped. She’d done something useful that didn’t involve killing, though it had been a very close call.

  It was the girl’s collapse that had broken the stalemate. After Jey had spoken, the child had simply gone slack, slumping off her stool to be caught by her grandfather. His cleaver had fallen to the stone floor with a ringing clang. Jey had rushed across the room, ignoring the knife Biala threatened her with. She’d reached out to scoop the tessila into her hands. The creature had felt cold and limp, but had still carried a spark of life.

  Healing had never been Jey’s strength, but the animal was more exhausted and malnourished than harmed. She’d bolstered him with a few active vitality spells and sent him through the stitchring with Phril. Then had come the harder part – convincing Holdam and Biala to carry their unconscious granddaughter out into the woods.

  Jey worked the spell on the entry hatch. She felt a little thrill of energy, the clarity that always came to her right before a fight. The Tessilari would all be very, very angry. At first, anyway. But when they understood, she hoped they would forgive her.

  The hidden hatch in the hillside flashed and opened inwards. Behind her, Holdam gave a little gasp of surprise. Jey did not look back. Instead, she walked straight into what had been a slab of blank stone a moment before. There was a pause, then the heavy tread of Holdam’s boots told her he was following.

  Jey had expected to find her friends worried, perhaps even angry. She’d particularly anticipated Elle’s annoyance. But when she entered the shelter, she looked for Elle in vain. Lokim was on the far side of the room, stripped to the waist, clearing away dead brillbane bushes with a spade. Treyam was by the fire, holding a leather tablet and a scribis. Back in the Valley of Mist, Jey knew, an identical tablet would be receiving the imprint of his marks, and a diligent scribe would even now be transcribing the message to be delivered to its recipient. This was how the Tessilari communicated over distances.

  Treyam looked up when Jey entered. Jey saw some worry lines smooth out of his face. He stood, throwing his long coat back and setting the scribis aside. “Jey,” he said. “You shouldn’t stay away so long. Elle was beside herself this morning. She almost didn’t go through with the purchase.”

  Jey bit her lip, feeling guilty. She’d forgotten Elle would be occupied this morning, finalizing the acquisition of the townhouse that was a critical part of her identity.

  “I’m sorry,” Jey managed to murmur as Treyam’s amber eyes left Jey and flew to the three people who had just followed her into the shelter.

  The rhythmic thudding of Lokim’s spade stilled. Behind Holdam and Biala, the entry hatch hissed shut. Holdam jumped at the sound, and looked back at the sealed exit.

  “Treyam,” Jey said, “something has happened.” Then she repeated the story Holdam and Biala had told her, which their sobbing granddaughter had imparted to them in the middle of the night when she’d arrived, filthy and half dead, at the cheesery door.

  By the time Jey was finished, the mood in the shelter had shifted. Lokim had set aside his spade, donned his shirt, and joined them by the fire. The girl was asleep on one of the warm sleeping stones. Holdam and Biala, looking gray and tired, were seated with the others by the fire. Jey had told the story, with Holdam and Biala adding their voices here and there. Jey couldn’t understand what any of it might mean. Nylan kidnapping a child, forcing her to open a sealed stone with a spell devised by the Tessilari. Then the purple light, the child’s escape, and the screams she’d heard as she’d fled.

  Treyam and Lokim had gone very still as they’d listened. Now, Treyam looked at the cheese maker and his wife, the little sly grin that normally hovered around the edges of his lips was entirely absent. He said in a serious tone, “You are certain she said the light was purple?”

  Both Holdam and Biala nodded in vigorous assent. “She said purple,” Biala said, “and dark, somehow, even though it was light.”

  Treyam closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “We need to get Elle back here immediately,” he said, “and we need to tell the Tessilari what has happened. If what the child says is true, this changes everything.”

  ◈

  The streets of Deramor were quiet and nearly empty, most of the day’s activity spent. A half-moon hung behind low clouds, hovering like a luminous ghost. Treyam walked at a steady pace, his stride a little shorter than it would have been, had he been alone. Elle, hampered as she was by her heavy skirts, wasn’t moving as quickly as usual.

  Treyam held his half of the passive echo spell in place without difficulty, all the while acutely aware of the invisible seam in the spell where his magic knit into Jey’s. As always, her spell was sol
id and sure, the energy of her mind steady and firm. He glanced to the side, watching her slender form as she stalked along the street on the other side of Lokim and Elle.

  The night was warm, with a heavy breeze blowing in from the south. It had been just over twenty-four hours since news of the diod’s release had reached them. In that time, they’d been in near constant communication with the leaders of the Tessilari. Everyone had agreed, for once, that it was time to act. Any sort of delay could bring about catastrophic consequences to the people of Masidon and the Tessilari alike.

  The time for hiding was over.

  Treyam couldn’t help but feel a stir of anticipation as they walked. It was unequivocally bad news, of course, that the diod was free. The children in the Valley of Mist practically grew up on stories of the Two Wars. It had taken all the considerable strength of the ancient Tessilari to contain the diods when the two monsters had come out of the mountains without warning and fallen upon what had been a peaceful, thriving country.

  Logically, Treyam should be scared. What hope had the tattered, marginalized remains of his people of standing against the creature that had taken down the strongest mages in history? But while Treyam as a boy had listened to the stories with terror and awe, he now couldn’t help but wonder if the Tessilari of old had grown complacent, lulled into ease by centuries of peace and plenty.

  The Tessilari may be few now, and weaker, but they had two things. First, they were fighting for their very existence. Second, they had information. The story of how the first diod had been defeated had been made into a ballad, which was sung at every solstice celebration.

  Surely, this was their moment. Without the Tessilari, the people of Masidon were more helpless than newly hatched tessili. They had no hope of standing against a creature of such might and magic as a diod. The Tessilari would help. In doing so, they would regain the trust and respect of Masidon.

  At least, this was what Treyam hoped. It was easy to see it all play out in his head as he walked with the others along the wide, cobbled streets, making their way ever deeper into the heart of the city.

  There were guards stationed at the entryway to the administrative city, but the gates were open. Jey walked right through, followed by Lokim, Elle, and finally Treyam. The guards never so much as glanced over. Once they were a block away from the gatehouse, Lokim moved into the lead. Although Treyam had never approved of Lokim’s rash decision to leave the valley against the will of the council, it was turning out the year the young man had spent in the capital had yielded a lot of useful information.

  Lokim had spent his time in Masidon before he’d met Elle and Jey learning about the government and spying on secret meetings. He knew the daily, aboveground rhythm of the three houses, and also the more clandestine activities of their heads. Once he’d discovered the academy, he’d applied himself to understanding what it was. He’d grown to believe that only the High Priest and his inner council, of all the people in Masidon, knew of the academy’s existence.

  Tonight, according to Lokim, the King and Queen would be together. This meeting happened on a weekly basis. It was not exactly a secret event, but it was a private one. Various officials and nobles were invited, but as far as Lokim knew, the High Priest had never been on that list.

  It was, they’d all decided, their best chance at delivering the information they wanted to pass to the King and Queen without interference. Showing up at such an event uninvited and unannounced would certainly make an impression. They would use surprise and fear to make their offer more attractive. They would be generous, but firm. Forgiving, but steady. They would offer to help, but for a price.

  The group of four walked on, the streets so wide two carriages could pass abreast with room for pedestrians on either side. Lokim moved with steady confidence. Treyam was forced to concede his time in exile had improved the young man. Or perhaps it was falling in love that had done the trick. In any case, his bitter restlessness, at least, now had focus.

  They stopped before an ornate home, its entryway lit by glowing lanterns. With a strange twist of surprise, Treyam noticed magical elements in the building’s construction – dormant now, of course. He should have expected that. The Tessilari had been instrumental in the creation of this city, even if they hadn’t been welcome here for centuries.

  Elle glanced over her shoulder, and Treyam nodded. Since they were all within the same passive echo spell, they could see each other. Jey and Treyam pulled the spell back so Elle was outside its reach. The girl took a deep breath and stepped forward to knock on the massive door.

  For a moment, watching her, Treyam felt a wave of anxiety and disbelief. He looked at the faces around him. How was it that he, of all people, was the oldest, steadiest member of a party of such crucial significance?

  As the door opened to reveal a marble hall lined in columns and glowing with lamplight, Treyam felt his lips tip up in a small smile. Life was like that, he knew. Rarely was the fate of the world placed in the hands of those most qualified to keep it safe.

  ◈

  The room that held the King and Queen’s gathering was large, with a high, arched ceiling and a floor spacious enough to hold a much larger party than was now in attendance. A single violinist stood in an alcove by the door. The acoustics of the room carried his soft song all through the space. There were perhaps two dozen ladies and gentlemen present, dressed in their finest, arranged across the expansive floor as if placed for maximum visual impact.

  Jey walked, rigid and alert, trailing after Elle with Treyam and Lokim on either side. Of the four of them, only Elle was visible to the surrounding people.

  Elle’s heels rang on the stone floor as she walked. She made her straight, unhurried way down the center of the room, moving unerringly towards the two chairs that sat at the top. They were large chairs, and ornate. A man sat in one. He was tall, with a strong jaw and cold, gray eyes. A woman sat across from him. Her hair done up in an elaborate tracery of gold and silver, she had high cheekbones, delicate wrists, and a mouth that seemed inclined to smile.

  The two royals were alone together at the top of the room, their guests keeping a respectful distance. Jey searched the other faces, knowing the High Duke and High Dutchess were somewhere among those present, but she was unable to recognize them. For now, the King and Queen sat unattended by their respective spouses.

  Quite a few heads turned in mild surprise as Elle made her journey across the large floor. She was a conspicuous presence. Her dress, while fine, was plainer than anything worn by the others here. She was also the youngest person in the room. The Queen was in her mid 40’s, maybe. The King a decade or so younger.

  Elle, chin lifted in determination, crossed the large room as conversation died and people turned to watch. She’d magicked her way past the guards and servants, of course, but the King and Queen did not know that. They thought she’d been admitted on her own merits.

  Jey, Treyam, and Lokim stopped in the center of the room. Jey felt a mild sense of pressure as the strain of holding the passive echo spell for so long mounted. But her stamina had increased considerably in the months she’d been among the Tessilari, and sharing a spell made it easier to maintain as well. She was nowhere near the end of her strength. Treyam, she could feel, wasn’t either. Nevertheless, Lokim was ready as a backup, in case one of them failed.

  Elle approached the top of the room and fell into a deep curtsey. It was a graceful movement, one Jey herself could recall being schooled to perform without a hitch.

  Elle remained at the bottom of the bow, holding a stooped pose until the Queen said in a tone that was half bored, half annoyed, “Who has sent you, on what business?”

  Jey was momentarily surprised. She’d been expecting the King and Queen to ask Elle who she was. But of course, this made more sense. They would not recognize her, so would assume she’d been sent by one of their inner circle with some sort of message.

  Elle straightened. Jey, knowing her friend as she did, could see t
he signs of tension in her façade of poise, but her voice did not waver when she spoke. She produced a rolled scroll from within her cloak and said in a voice Lokim amplified so it rang around the room, “I am Elle, formerly known as student L134 of Tessili Academy. I bear a message from the Tessilari.”

  The room, which had been still before, now fell into dead silence. The violin cut off mid-song. The nobles, Jey thought, looked alert and curious, but they did not appear to understand the full import of Elle’s declaration.

  The King and Queen, however, did. The color drained from the Queen’s face. Her eyes widened with shock. The King half rose from his chair. But he was unarmed, and the nearest guards were outside the door, stationed with their attention on the hall. If Elle had come to do him harm, she’d have killed him already.

  Seeming to realize this, the man sank back. Elle added in a softer tone that Lokim did not amplify, “I am not here alone.”

  The Queen’s hand, which had been raised in the act of reaching towards a wine goblet set on a side table, began to tremble. She moved it to her lap and folded it within her other hand. The King shifted, eyes moving restlessly among those present as if already assessing the diplomatic import of this intrusion.

  At last, the Queen spoke. “What is your message?”

  Elle stepped forward. The King flinched, but the Queen extended her hand, which was steady now. Elle set the parchment in the Queen’s palm, and stepped away from the two chairs.

  The Queen broke the seal, which let off a flash of warm light. She unrolled the scroll, and read what was written there. Her face betrayed nothing as she handed the scroll to the King. He read as well, and the two of them sat like statues for a time.

  At last, the King spoke. His voice was smooth and deep and cultured. “We will need some time.”

  Elle curtsied again, a little less deeply than before. When she straightened, her face bore a sad smile. “Of course,” she said. “But I suggest you don’t take too long. The diod will take more people daily. In doing so, it will grow ever stronger.”