The Affiliate

by K. A. Linde

  “I did not mean to interrupt,” she said.

  “Not at all, Affiliate. Not at all,” he said with a beautiful flowing Eleysian accent. He swept her a deep bow that would have befitted the Queen. “It’s always a pleasure.”

  How interesting, considering the other man’s revulsion at the title.

  “The pleasure is all mine. Please, do call me Cyrene.”

  “Cyrene it is then, and I am Basille Selby, a humble Eleysian merchant,” he said with a crooked smile. “At your service. Now, how can I be of assistance?”

  “It’s a matter of this book.” She showed him the cover. “My sister purchased it from you as a birthday gift for me.”

  “Fine gift there. Fine gift,” he amiably told her.

  “Yes, yes, it is. She said that when she purchased it from you, you said the book was for the Children of the Dawn. I was curious. Who are the Children of the Dawn?”

  Basille, until that moment, had seemed every bit the cool, composed businessman, but at the utterance of the name, he intently stared at her with his sharp chocolate-brown eyes. He reached his hand out to take the book from her. He skimmed through the blank pages, his muscles tensing at the movement, and then he quickly returned it to her.

  “Why are you interested in the Children of the Dawn, Affiliate?”

  “Please, call me Cyrene,” she reminded him. “You were the one who told my sister about these Children, and I don’t know who they are, nor can I find any information in the libraries about them.”

  Basille snorted. “Of course you can’t, Affiliate. Not in Byern libraries at least. The Children of the Dawn are no longer spoken of in this world…or many other worlds either.”

  Cyrene had a sudden flashback to the Ring of Gardens. The royalty present at her ceremony had said that they had held back the histories of their lands for protection. Could this be part of that history?

  “What do you mean?”

  “No…nothing. You shouldn’t even be here, asking about the Children. Forget I ever mentioned it to your sister.” He began ushering her out.

  “But I cannot, Master Selby! This has something to do with me.” Cyrene ducked under his long arms and moved deeper into the back room, clutching the book to her chest. “You don’t understand. I have to know.”

  He wheeled around to stare at her. “Why do you have to know?”

  Cyrene ground her teeth in frustration. The last time she had revealed what she knew about the book, Elea hadn’t been able to see the text. Cyrene had thought that she was crazy for it, and she didn’t know if she was ready to feel like that again.

  “I…I can’t explain,” Cyrene murmured, turning away from the peddler.

  “You’re going to have to try, Affiliate. I have quite a bit of work to complete before I leave the city.”

  Cyrene turned to face him. “Where are you going?”

  His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Either he noticed her sidestep, or he did not like her questioning his whereabouts. Likely, it was both.

  “It does not concern you. I am Basille Selby. I travel to the farthest reaches of our land and beyond.”

  “Where have you been? To Lake Mische, the Barren Mountains, the haunted Drop Pass? All the way to Bienco and the far reaches of the Lakonia Ocean?” she asked in a rambling tone.

  Basille chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. “I have been to all those places and more that you should never know of. Have a seat, Affiliate. With all these questions floating in the air, it seems I won’t be getting much more done at the moment.”

  Cyrene plopped into the nearest seat by the desk as he gracefully folded himself into one adjacent from her.

  He crossed a leg over the other at the knee and interlaced his long fingers. He stared a moment before asking, “What are you really doing here? You have one of the best positions in your land. You seem to have the world at your feet. What are you doing down in the dregs of the Laelish, carrying on a conversation with a peddler? Even if I am the best.”

  Cyrene warred with herself about opening up to the man. After all, it was why she had come down to meet with him. He would soon be out of Byern. Who knew the next time they would meet—if ever?

  She opened the book to the center of the supposedly blank pages. The shimmery gold font mockingly stared back at her. It teased at the back of her mind, as if she should know what the words said, but she couldn’t understand them. It made even less sense than her Presenting letter, and out of fear of the unknown, she hadn’t spent any more time studying the book.

  She placed her finger on the page. “Is this page blank to you?”

  Basille visibly shook as he looked at the page. “Yes.” His voice wavered, yet he was rapt with attention.

  “And this one?” She turned to the next page.

  He nodded.

  “All of them?” She ran her hand along the pages and flipped through them.

  “Yes, they are all blank.”

  “They’re not to me,” she whispered as her eyes rose to stare into his face.

  Basille’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and he rubbed his palms against his linen pants, leaving sweat marks behind. He gulped hard, his whole body moving with the effort. His eyes rapidly moved back and forth, but he stared off into the distance, not meeting her gaze.

  As if possessed, he jumped up from his seat and began shoving books, knickknacks, and loose ends into random boxes with seemingly no order. “Time for you to go, Affiliate.” He rushed past her and tossed a handful of books into a box.

  “What?” She jumped to her feet in surprise. “I don’t understand.”

  “Go. Go on. Get out of here.” He grabbed more books and repeated the movements.

  “Where are you going? And aren’t you going to help me and answer my questions?”

  Basille frantically shook his head. “No, no, no. I can’t get mixed up. I’m sorry. I like you, but I can’t.”

  “You can’t answer my questions, or you can’t help me?”

  She reached out to try to still him. He flinched away and collided into a towering bookshelf that came toppling down on his head.

  The man from the front appeared immediately through the curtain. “Everythin’ okay back ther’?”

  “Yes, Gather. Thank you.” Basille hauled himself out of the pile of books. “If you would, please escort Affiliate Cyrene out.”

  “Master Selby, you didn’t tell me anything. Who are the Children of the Dawn? What is this book? Why can I see the writing?”

  Gather forcefully grabbed her elbow. “Come on. Don’ botha ’im no more.”

  “Please.” She pushed against Gather’s meaty arm. “Tell me something, anything!”

  Basille suddenly turned to her. “You’ll never find answers here. Go to Eleysia. You must go to the Eleysian capital city and ask for Matilde and Vera. I cannot help you, Cyrene, but they can.”

  Cyrene’s breathing was ragged as Gather all but threw her out of the tent with garbled swear words. She stared, starry-eyed, at the closed curtain for a moment, trying to grasp what had happened. Basille had quaked in terror at the mention that she could see the gold lettering, but he had been afraid before she had said anything. Something had been off about him from the beginning.

  Did he know someone else who could see the lettering? Could these Matilde and Vera see it? Is that why I must go to Eleysia?

  The number of new questions piling up infuriated her enough to almost return and demand answers from him.

  Almost.

  She couldn’t muscle her way past Gather, and there was no guarantee Basille would be free with information. She should feel lucky she’d gotten as much as she did out of him. He could have already left Byern, and she would have never known that she needed to go to Eleysia or seek out Matilde and Vera.

  Perhaps this was the thing she was supposed to find, as described in her Presenting letter. After all, she was searching for something she didn’t know about. Not that having a destination helped her any because her Presenting
letter riddle had said that what she was looking for couldn’t be found.

  Cyrene retrieved Ceffy and swung up into the saddle. Resigned to the idea that she wasn’t going to get any more answers today, she kicked Ceffy into a trot as she began to formulate a plan.

  Cyrene returned to chaos.

  Affiliates were rushing around the grounds, clustered in small groups and holding on to each other. One girl was crying into a friend’s shoulder. A group of High Order talked in mournful whispers. The Queen’s DIA, Catalin, was going from group to group with a piece of parchment in her hand.

  Cyrene trotted Ceffy to the stables, threw the reins to a man on duty, and then went in search of answers. She hadn’t been gone from court for more than an hour or two. She wondered what she had missed.

  As she rounded the corner, Maelia came running straight for her. Maelia threw her arms around her and hugged her tight. “Oh, Cyrene! You’re all right. When you couldn’t be located, we thought…”

  Cyrene pulled back and held Maelia at arm’s length. “You thought what? I just went down to the market.”

  Maelia’s face paled. “You haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  “Affiliate Leslin was found dead in the same spot as Zorian. Her face had the same mutilation,” she whispered.

  Cyrene’s hands flew to her mouth. Not Leslin! She had gone to look for the librarian today. Leslin had been on holiday, visiting her daughter, and now…she would never return.

  Cyrene sank to her knees in the middle of the courtyard.

  Leslin was…dead.

  She covered her mouth as a sob racked her body.

  Aralyn. Oh no.

  How did Aralyn react to finding out that her friend is dead?

  Cyrene hadn’t handled the news that Rhea had made Second Class very well. She couldn’t stomach thinking about something worse happening to her friend…or never seeing her again.

  “Maelia,” Cyrene gasped.

  “I know, Cyrene. It’s so terrible. When you were gone, I thought the worst had happened. I’m so glad that you’re all right.”

  “I just…can’t believe this.” Cyrene brushed aside the tears that had fallen on her cheeks, and she slowly rose again.

  “Me either. More guards have been called to duty around the perimeter and in the city, and the King instated a curfew. No one is allowed to be out after dark.”

  “But Leslin wasn’t out after dark. It was the middle of the day,” Cyrene said.

  Maelia nodded. “I know, but what else can they do?”

  Cyrene didn’t know. She had never experienced anything like this. Who is killing people and for what purpose?

  “I have to find my sister,” she told Maelia. “She was friends with Leslin.”

  Was. It sounds so final.

  “I’ll go with you. I don’t like the thought of you walking around here on your own,” Maelia admitted.

  Cyrene didn’t even disagree with her friend, which really showed the severity of the situation. Her head was full of the news of the death of an Affiliate, but still, she couldn’t stop thinking about Basille’s demands for her to go to Eleysia. She needed to leave the castle, find Matilde and Vera, and get answers to her questions.

  But how would that be possible when the castle is in such turmoil? And would I even be safe? Certainly not alone…

  They strode through the Vines, past the clusters of Affiliates huddled together as they discussed the news, and stopped at Aralyn’s room. Cyrene knocked twice and waited. Aralyn answered almost immediately. She looked exactly like the last time Cyrene had been here. Her nose was buried in a book, her brown hair was pulled off her face, and her dress had been immaculately pressed.

  “Aralyn,” Cyrene said softly.

  “What is it, Cyrene? I’m in the middle of something,” Aralyn said.

  Cyrene shared a look with Maelia. “We came to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m quite well. Just about to leave for Kell on official business. I have much to do before I depart.”

  She started closing the door, but Cyrene put her hand out.

  “Have you not heard the news?”

  “I don’t follow castle gossip,” Aralyn said. She finally closed her book and looked up at Cyrene with an exaggerated sigh. “What is it?”

  Cyrene wet her lips and let the unsaid words hang in the air. She hated being the one to tell her sister, but she had to.

  “Aralyn, I don’t know how to tell you—”

  They heard footsteps stomping down the stone hallway, and all three girls turned their heads to see who was coming forward. Maelia yelped and jumped sideways as if someone were coming to attack her.

  “Reeve,” Cyrene whispered.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” her brother said.

  “Oh, honestly, what are both of you doing here?” Aralyn asked. Her eyes were narrowed at Reeve.

  Cyrene knew that they hadn’t been getting along, but it was strange to see them this way.

  “You haven’t told her?” Reeve asked Cyrene.

  “Just spit it out,” Aralyn said, crossing her arms.

  Reeve gave Aralyn a sympathetic look. “Aralyn…they just found Leslin’s body.”

  She tilted her head at him in confusion. “What do you mean, found her body?”

  “She’s dead,” Cyrene whispered.

  “What?” Aralyn asked aghast. “She was on holiday to visit her daughter.”

  “They think it was related to the attack on Zorian,” Reeve said. His voice was strained at the mention of his friend.

  Aralyn’s face crumpled as she realized that what they were saying was reality. “I…I don’t,” Aralyn mumbled. She looked like she wanted to cry but was holding back her tears.

  “Come on,” Reeve said, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go sit down.”

  Cyrene and Maelia followed Reeve inside. They busied themselves with trying to comfort Aralyn, making tea, and helping her pack her things for Kell. Cyrene wasn’t sure how much help she was, but she didn’t want to leave her sister when she was an emotional wreck.

  Hours later, when Aralyn finally passed out, Reeve ushered them out of the room to get some rest.

  She and Maelia walked solemnly down the hall, back to their rooms.

  Helping Aralyn had gotten Cyrene’s mind off of Basille’s warnings, but now that she was away, everything kicked back into overdrive. She had a plan. She simply needed to implement it.

  The next morning, the castle was buzzing with the news that Ahlvie had been called into questioning for a second time. Cyrene couldn’t believe that he was being accused again when there had been no evidence to indict him with Zorian. She still didn’t think that Ahlvie had killed anyone and hoped that his disagreements with Leslin wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

  She had no affiliation with him this time around, so she didn’t think she would get called in for questioning. She hoped he knew how to get himself out of this again.

  Thankfully, she had very little time to contemplate the deaths. It was on the tips of everyone’s tongues, but she kept herself cloistered in her room, digging through the final pages of Affiliate Lorne’s agricultural work. Procession was only a week away, and she had so much to attend to before then.

  Two days before she was going to leave on procession, she had all her bags packed and ready to go. The day before, Cyrene had requested an audience with the Queen and she was impatiently awaiting that appointment.

  Cyrene couldn’t keep from bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. It had been nearly six weeks since she was this nervous for anything, but her Presenting already felt like a lifetime ago.

  She dressed quickly and simply in a pale blue dress. Then, she plaited her hair back and knotted it into a bun with a navy-blue satin ribbon. She wanted to look presentable but not over the top.

  It was unfortunate she hadn’t been able to include Maelia in on her plans. Cyrene wanted to make sure all the pieces were in place before disc
ussing it with anyone. If all went according to design, she would be able to tell her this afternoon.

  She grabbed her leatherwork folder from her coffee table and traipsed out of the room with her retinue trailing behind her. Cyrene’s steps faltered as they entered the typically hectic atrium to the Queen’s quarters. The room was almost completely silent, and the few Affiliates who remained in the vacant chambers were spaced far apart. No one even gave Cyrene a second glance.

  Regaining her confidence, Cyrene hurried across the deserted room to the DIA’s small office. She knocked twice and waited.

  A moment later, the door opened, and Cyrene tried not to hiss at the figure standing before her.

  “Cyrene,” Jardana said with a slow poisonous smile.

  “Jardana,” she said, curtsying politely. “Is Affiliate Catalin not in today?”

  “She is with Her Majesty, and I am acting DIA at the moment.” She stretched her neck to its limit and stuck her nose in the air, giving her the appearance of a giraffe. “What can I help you with?”

  “I sent word yesterday, requesting an audience with the Queen,” Cyrene plainly told her.

  Jardana fluffed her blonde hair and retreated into Catalin’s office. Cyrene had no choice but to follow, leaving the servants in the common room.

  “It’s simply not possible,” Jardana uttered once she had made herself comfortable at Catalin’s desk.

  “I sent word yesterday.”

  “The Queen is not well,” Jardana said. Her light-blue eyes were wide with concern. “And she will see no one today.”

  Cyrene’s stomach plummeted to the ground. The Queen had to be well. She had done too much already for her not to be able to speak with the Queen. “What is wrong with her?”

  Jardana fixed her now cool eyes upon her. “That is hardly your concern. Her Majesty needs some rest. That is all. You may go.” She fluttered her manicured slender fingers at Cyrene.

  “Very well.” Cyrene was determined to find another way in to see the Queen. Jardana was very likely lying. “I’ll see you at the procession.”