by CJ Brightley
Then we found a massive party eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Ruler’s heir to take the payment, with strangers crowding over to say how eager they were to meet him — and her — and then looking oddly at me. I finally realized I wasn’t wearing a signature at all, partly because there weren’t any tonna berry husks in Central, partly because I had just plain forgotten about it. I must have looked like a vassal, which would make me particularly odd company for two Ruler’s heirs.
Need to find some tonna berry husks before our next stop, I thought. Unfortunately, when I asked around, nobody had ever heard of the berries.
Filled with status from accepting the land payment, Yaika and Janfal escaped back to the carriage, and I was forced to go with them, even though I had had no chance to sneak off and look for groverweed.
Back in the caravan, I wandered over to the cupboard to see what it contained in the way of entertainment. Not much. A few games I couldn’t play on my own, a handful of books, and various snacks for the journey. I tried one of the dried fruits Jinny had been eating yesterday, and shuddered at the sour aftertaste. A bag of salted seeds in the back looked much more promising, but I didn’t want to try them in case I turned them all rotten or something.
“Blue!” Yaika cried.
“Pull the cord!” Janfal shouted back.
The second land purchase was marginally more interesting than the first. At the home of one of the families we interviewed, I found a patch of filias, but I didn’t have enough time to shove magic into any of the groverweed sprouts there. I tried to think of an excuse to stay a little longer, but Janfal glared at me.
Empty-handed again, except for the even brighter status Janfal and Yaika now carried, back to the caravan we went.
Our next stop was red. Janfal informed me in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to attend, and he and Yaika left to resolve the crime themselves. When they came back about an hour later, Yaika looked pale and sick.
“How bad was it?” I asked.
“Not a death crime,” Janfal said.
“So awful,” Yaika whimpered.
They didn’t say anything more about it. I didn’t ask.
We passed yellow signal after yellow signal, none of which Janfal was willing to stop for, and then there was a long line of whites and greys. Finally, when there started to be yellow signals again, I noticed the caravan was going more slowly.
“Is the caravan going more slowly?” Yaika blurted out.
Janfal didn’t take his eyes off the window. “Yes. We’re near the north rim. Magic doesn’t work as well here. That’s why we don’t have time for yellow signals.”
“Magic doesn’t work as well near the rim?”
“Near the north rim,” Janfal said. “It’s been happening gradually for years now. The rest of the rimlands are fine.”
Weird, I thought. Does Grandfather know about that? Maybe I should tell him.
When we got out for a land purchase shortly after that, I noticed that the itchy feeling in my arms and legs was muted. Not gone — but it felt like it was building up more slowly, or something. That might have been sort of nice, but I couldn’t find groverweed anywhere, either. Did groverweed grow in places with a lower supply of magic to siphon?
The next time Yaika and Janfal got out for a red signal, I went to take a nap in the back room, the one that was similar to where the Ruler and her husband had gone on our journey up. I didn’t wake up until several hours later, when Yaika shook me.
“Raneh. Raneh. We’re back in Central,” she said.
Central? I thought blearily, opening my eyes. What . . .?
“I let you sleep because you seemed so tired,” Yaika said. “Were you homesick last night? Was it my fault you didn’t get enough sleep?” She sounded nervous and guilty. “Did I . . . do I . . . snore?”
I sat bolt upright. Oh no! No! I still haven’t found a groverweed!
“I — I need to find some tonna berry husks,” I stammered, saying the first good excuse that came to mind. “I don’t have anything for a signature. I’ve got to get to a market so we can buy something. Can we go to one? Please?”
“Um . . .” Yaika bit her lip and looked back at doorway, where Janfal was standing.
“Your sister’s been working hard all day,” he said brusquely. “You do not get to guilt-trip her into doing more things when what she needs right now is to rest and eat.”
Panic rose in me. “But — but I need to!” I gasped out. “Please!”
Yaika gulped visibly. “Janfal . . . can we . . .?”
Janfal’s lips pressed together. He walked over, grabbed both of my forearms, and yanked me unceremoniously to my feet.
I gasped. I couldn’t help it. Beneath the loose white sleeves, both of my forearms were still raw and stinging. And he was gripping them even more tightly, his fingernails digging in.
“You do not guilt-trip your sister,” Janfal barked out, his eyes flashing. “She now has one of the most important jobs in the Rulership. She matters. You don’t. You are here only to support her, not to get in her way, not to use her. Do you understand?”
Just short of crying because my arms hurt so much, I nodded.
“Good.” Janfal released me. “Now, you need food, Yaika. Weren’t you just saying you were famished?”
“Uh huh,” Yaika said in a small voice.
“Come on, then,” Janfal said, nodding towards the doorway.
With a guilty glance back at me, Yaika followed him out of the back room and down the stairs.
Wanting to curl up into a ball of shame, I crept after them, out of the caravan and back to the Heart of Central.
What good am I doing Yaika here? I wondered. Maybe I should just go back home tomorrow.
The more I thought about it, the more I thought that going home tomorrow was the right thing. The Ruler had made it very clear that she would welcome my leaving, and I just couldn’t see any sign that Yaika needed me here. I wanted to be useful, but I thought my presence was probably just holding her back, distracting her.
This was her home now. And it wasn’t mine. I ought to return to the rest of my family. If I got home quickly, maybe I could even make it in time to be part of the trip to collect Hurik again. I suddenly missed his snideness and his flagrant disregard for societal norms badly.
With that decided, I felt a great burden of anxiety lift from me. It wasn’t just for the lack of groverweed. I wasn’t failing Yaika. I carefully spooned myself up nutwark blossoms, wondering how to tell her.
So far, my magic was mostly behaving. It hadn’t done anything since I woke up, even though the itching in my arms and legs was terrible again. If I could just make it through dinner, and then one night’s sleep, I could go home with the heir who was assigned to my family’s Road in the morning.
I glanced up at the squishwood board as I passed, noticing tomorrow’s assignments were already up, and Yaika was now off to the left of the circle. The heir who was assigned to our Ruler’s Road was someone named Dorab. If he or she was here, I’d ask about tomorrow as soon as I broke the news to Yaika.
Yaika was seated at a table, chatting with two other heirs we’d never met before, looking determinedly cheerful. I put my plate next to hers and sat down. I awkwardly cleared my throat. She didn’t look at me.
“Yaika,” I said, breaking into the conversation she was having with the other two girls. One of them glared at me and dinged my status for the rudeness. I didn’t care. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” Yaika said, grabbing a luff roll off her plate. “We’re going on the west Road tomorrow, did you see?”
“Maybe you are,” I said. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” Yaika cried.
“No, I’m not,” I said quietly. “The Ruler was right. I don’t belong here, and I’m not doing you any good.”
“But . . . but . . .” Yaika’s lower lip trembled. “But I want you here! You’re my family!”
My heart panged.
“I’m sorry,” I said slowly. ”But I’m not going to stay.”
Yaika bit into her luff roll fiercely. Her eyes looked all glassy.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat and looked away.
“You know, you can visit once you’ve finished with your training,” one of the girls said tentatively. “It only took me two weeks.”
“We barely even got to say goodbye,” Yaika mumbled around her luff roll. “The Ruler didn’t give us any warning!”
“She never does,” the other girl said. “I think it’s because she hates seeing our goodbyes. They make her feel guilty.”
“I’ll make sure to tell them how well you’re doing,” I said. “I’ll make sure they’re happy and not angry when you come to visit.”
Yaika nodded, blinking back tears. She took another bite.
“Well, that’s it,” I said, swallowing. I put my hand on the table. “Do you two girls know Dorab? That’s the heir assigned to the Road I need to take tomorrow. I need to ask to go with the trip.”
“Oh, sure,” one of the girls said. “He’s not here, but I’ll take you to his room to ask as soon as we’re —”
The table collapsed underneath me.
I heard a gasp and a shriek. The other girl, who had been eating soup, was now splashed all over with hot liquid. Our plates lay shattered on the floor, with chunks of food and sauce all over the place. And the table . . . the table was shrunken. Tiny, doll-sized, right in between our feet.
My breath caught in horror. They won’t think it was me . . . surely they won’t think it was me . . .
The older of the two girls, who was not splashed with soup, looked up with eyes of iron. For a moment, she looked exactly like the Ruler who had adopted her.
“You just used magic, didn’t you?” she asked clearly.
The whole room was staring at us, and the tiny table that had caused the mess and clamor.
“I — I’m not a magician —” I stammered.
“Of course not. You have status. Which means that if you did, it was a huge crime.”
My mouth went totally dry.
“I didn’t!” I burst out, panicking. “How could I? It’s not even possible to use magic unless you renounce status!”
“Oh, yes, it is,” someone said from across the room.
I spun around, and a man who looked my parents’ age was staring at me. His thick beard and scruffy eyebrows made him look imposing, like somebody you couldn’t lie to, or at least couldn’t succeed in fooling.
“I was the heir who judged the person who was brought here for it, six years ago,” the bearded heir said coldly. “He claimed he never asked for it, that it happened accidentally. Of course, he got executed anyway. Are you going to claim the same thing?”
I burst into tears. I couldn’t stop it.
“Raneh . . .?” Yaika asked tremulously.
A hubbub rose around the room, and then suddenly went silent. My eyes rose and fixed on the stairway up to the Ruler’s floor. Sure enough, the Ruler was standing there, beside an heir I didn’t recognize. Someone had gone and gotten her.
“Landowner use of magic, eh?” the Ruler coolly. “I knew it was going to happen again. I didn’t expect it right under our noses, though.”
I raised my voice to protest, but she held up her hand.
“We will see if you are innocent,” she said. “It’s easy enough to test. Some of you strong men, restrain her and bring her to me.”
Two heirs rose from the tables and grabbed each of my arms. A third man rose and walked behind me. My eyes watered with misery again, and my knees felt rubbery. I could barely trip up the stairs as we followed the Ruler up to her private floor.
At the top, through a pair of ornate doors, the Ruler had them seat me on a chair and tie up my arms and legs. As they did, she disappeared into another room. She came back with her husband, who looked mildly surprised and had ink on his fingers.
“Wait outside,” the Ruler ordered her heirs, pointing to the doors.
One of them looked like he was about to protest, but the other two bowed and nodded. The last hesitated, and then also obeyed, shutting the doors behind them.
“Easy enough to test,” the Ruler murmured, reaching behind her head and pulling two filias flowers out of her hair. She walked over to me and held them out in front of my face.
I watched, transfixed. Part of me wanted to escape, and part of me wanted answers even more desperately.
“You see, the thing about filias,” the Ruler said, “is that it is more than just a symbol. It is connected to the status system. Any status it is near, it increases.”
I felt my eyes widen. It did?
It crossed my mind that I really ought to try to struggle out of my bonds. Maybe I could actually use magic to weaken them or something. But there were three people waiting outside the door to catch me, not to mention two right in front of me. Besides, the Ruler knew where I lived. And I really, really didn’t want her to stop talking.
“This is a known fact among mathematicians, but one they are not supposed to reveal,” the Ruler added, still holding those flowers out in front of my face. It was like she was waiting for something. “The effect is also considerably weaker than it once was. Status is still a rising system, but it is reaching its peak.”
What? I thought.
The Ruler turned and looked over her shoulder at her husband. “What do you think?” she said. “Is her status affected?”
The Ruler’s husband shook his head. “Not a whit. I’ve been watching closely.”
The Ruler sighed and put the flowers back in her hair. “So I thought. If you’re anything like the other one, now you’ll say that you didn’t ask for this. You’ll say that you’re innocent. That the law is unjust, and it ought to be changed.”
“Yes!” I cried. “I didn’t break any laws on purpose! I certainly don’t deserve to die because of it!”
“But it doesn’t do any good,” the Ruler broke in, shaking her head. “Because there’s only one way you could have both status and magic at the same time. And there’s only one way the flower of status could not affect you. And that’s if you are tied to the flower of magic already.”
What? I thought. “You mean groverweed?”
“Grower’s weed,” the Ruler said. “Yes.”
“But . . . but . . .” I stumbled over the words. “But magicians hate groverweed! They hate it more than anybody!”
“Because it’s tied to magic,” the Ruler said, nodding. “And because magic is dying.”
I swallowed a huge lump in my throat. “Is that . . . is that . . . is that . . . because of the groverweed?”
“Because the plant absorbs it, you mean?” The Ruler looked amused. “Not exactly. Though the wretched thing’s not helping.”
“Then what’s causing it?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“Ah.” The Ruler’s face went solemn. “And here we come down to the reason you have to die. You’re causing it. You’re killing magic, just by existing. That’s what it means to be a Keeper, I’m afraid.”
24
“Keeper?” I repeated numbly. “What’s a Keeper?”
“That’s what I am,” the Ruler said. “But I, unlike you, am not dangerous.”
Keeper of all status, I thought. That was one of the Ruler’s titles. I’d never thought twice about it. Did that mean it actually meant something?
No. Never mind that. I was pleading for my life now. I had to convince her not to kill me.
“But why does that make me dangerous?” I protested. “If I’m a . . . a Keeper of magic, then —”
“You are not a Keeper of magic,” the Ruler said sharply. “You are a rising Keeper. That means your role is to absorb all magic until the system’s dead.”
Goosebumps broke out on my arms and ran down my spine. That didn’t sound like a good thing.
“You have my pity,” the Ruler said, much more gently. “But the process cannot be stopped as long as you’re ali
ve. The only way to preserve magic is for you to be dead.”
My throat constricted. I didn’t want to die! But I didn’t want to kill magic, either. Surely there was some other way?
“I’m not entirely sure that would help,” the Ruler’s husband spoke up from behind her. “Magic didn’t stop dying after we executed the last Keeper.”
The Ruler glared over her shoulder at him. “This time, it might work.”
“Rational as that hope sounds, I think we might consider other options instead,” her husband said dryly. “If we’d found a way to reason with the last Keeper instead of killing him, we wouldn’t have wasted years not knowing who his successor was. As, you might recall, I mentioned at the time.”
“How can we possibly reason with a rising Keeper?!” the Ruler demanded. “They don’t have any control over it!”
“Then perhaps we might focus on what this one can control instead,” her husband said mildly.
The Ruler stared at him for a minute. It was hard to see her facial expression, with her turned at an angle away from me. But I thought I saw her eyes widen for a second.
“Lancen! Are you out of your mind? No way!”
“Magic’s going to die, Anced,” the Ruler’s husband said, pulling a cloth out of his pocket. He rubbed his inky fingers with it, leaving the cloth all stained. “There’s nothing we can do about that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up on saving it.”
“Um,” I said, tentatively, trying to raise my hand. Instead, I felt the ropes wrench at my wrists. Ouch. I’d forgotten they were there. “Um . . . if there’s a way to save magic, I’d like to participate.”
The Ruler turned and gave me a look of incredulous contempt. Behind her, her husband looked pleased.
“You see, Anced?” he said. “There is something you can do,” he added to me. “Of course, it’s risky.”
My heart beat faster. A way to not die, and a way to help save magic! Maybe getting caught would turn out to be a good thing. Maybe coming here to Central hadn’t been as stupid an idea as I’d feared.