The Lost Daughters

by Leigh Grossman

  I pulled the cased Talisman from its hiding place at the small of my back and held it up. My last link with Tenia. Taking two steps forward, I knelt and extended my hand with the Talisman in it. One of the courtier gods came forward, opened the case, and examined its contents.

  “Your majesties, it is genuine. This is the copy entrusted to the Empress of Ananya.”

  “But she has a human name!” Kedessan interjected. “Clothed or not, dead or not, she is not a fit messenger. She cannot speak when her name—the source of her power—comes from the old ways.”

  The King and Queen looked at me silently, awaiting a response. So that’s why my name had power in a trade, I realized suddenly. That’s why the Empress and chancellor have to give up their names while they serve. The clothes are secondary to the name.

  Which is why, I finally understood, I really was my father’s daughter. He might have destroyed my world and not cared whether I lived or died, but he would never in a thousand years have committed the tactical error this god had just made. And he would never have allowed me to make it, either.

  Go on, you are my chancellor, I heard Tenia’s voice in my head.

  Kedessan looked at me smugly, certain he had won the round.

  I looked up, looked the golden creatures on the thrones in the eye. “Your majesties,” I said. “I have no name. My father traded my name to Kedessan, the first bargain he made that Kedessen did not honor his end of. I do not claim a grievance for that broken bargain, since it did not touch on the treaty.” And because I don’t want to mention his paying for my name by giving me a talent for the old magic. “I merely touch on it so your majesties are aware that Kedessan is in possession of my name. I have only a use-name that belonged to my mother, which is not mine to keep if she has been restored to life as Kedessen claims. As surely as my Empress and my father did, I gave up my name, and by the terms of the treaty and the messenger clause, I hereby invoke my right to argue for redress of the treaty violation.”

  I took a breath. “I would also ask your majesties, by what right does Kedessen speak here, since he has for years been in possession of the human name that in his claim would have barred me from speaking?”

  Kedessen had no reply to that. For a moment, neither did the King. “You may speak,” he finally said. “First, please tell me where is the Empress of Ananya, and how did you come to be appointed her messenger?” Which neatly avoided my claim against Kedessen for the moment.

  It did cut back to the heart of the argument I needed to make, however. I am my father’s daughter, I realized anew. Awful as his crimes had been, I was beginning to see a path toward making them right. Tenia, I really am your chancellor. All the years I had spent trying to make my father proud, all uselessly. I was going to win this for the person who really had been proud of me. I will win this for you, Tenia.

  I could see Tenia’s smile in my mind as I answered the King and Queen of the gods.

  “The Empress is dead, your majesty, at the hands of Kedessen’s servants. This was done at the behest of my father, the lawful messenger, who also lies dead before you.” I saw triumph light in Kedessen’s eyes and continued before he could interrupt. I wasn’t counting on the court upholding my argument about not letting him speak because he had my name. At best maybe they would give me back my name if I won. I wondered what it was—I hope I liked it.

  I went on quickly, hoping Juila was right about how the Court felt about keeping their word. “The violation lies not in the deaths, but in the bargain. The terms were never fulfilled, in clear violation of clauses 150 and 154. And since the terms no longer can be fulfilled, we seek redress. Additionally I would like to note that the imprisonment of Juila, which we discovered on our arrival, violates clause 262 in two different places, since she was neither included in the full accounting of prisoners who fought on the human side during the war or any of the addenda, nor was she released at the specified time, or for many centuries afterward. I note also the enforcement mechanisms in clauses 119 and 202, which both are brought into force in this case, since the bargain Kedessen made was part of an explicit interference in a human conflict.” That last was a stretch, but my father had brought the Central Alliance into the deal, and Alliance soldiers had attacked in concert with Kedessen’s messengers. So I had at least a plausible argument.

  The King paused to consider. “Let us take up the matter of the god Kedessen first. You have our word that both issues will be settled and the treaty made whole before you leave this Court today.”

  “That pleases me,” I said, the ritual response from long ago.

  “Then please proceed.”

  I laid out the situation in detail, putting everything else—my father’s body, Sperrin’s horrific injuries, the god waiting to pounce on any rhetorical misstep I made—out of my mind. I began with my mother’s death and my father’s first flawed dealings with Kedessen, and continued through the bargain my father had made to betray the Empress and how it had played out. I knew the situation better than I realized, once I stopped trying to deny my father’s complicity. And I felt oddly confident telling the story. Against all expectations, I found myself enjoying it. I wondered if this was how Sperrin felt when he killed someone.

  Though an authorized messenger, my father had acted against the interests of the Empress. Before I met Juila that had seemed the heart of the case to me, but by the time I started speaking, I realized that detail barely mattered to the gods. From the standpoint of the treaty, he was perfectly entitled to negotiate a modification. But having negotiated the modification, both parties were compelled to keep their word. My father had broken his oath to the Empress and betrayed his country—neither of which concerned the gods particularly, under the neutrality clause of the treaty—but he had delivered on all his promises to the gods. Kedessen, by contrast, had failed to deliver the principal thing he had promised. Regardless of whether he had intended to keep his bargain—and having just seen Kedessen lie, I wasn’t prepared to take the god at his word about it—he had failed to restore my mother to life and deliver her to my father.

  I bowed when I finished my summation, and the King asked me a few questions about particulars, and where I felt the Talisman related to them. Each time, I answered succintly.

  “Kedessen,” the King asked. “Do you deny any of the case that has been made here?”

  The god smiled. He didn’t seem worried. I wondered if it was possible he didn’t realize the consequences of my father’s death, even now. No, it wasn’t possible. So he would be laying the groundwork for something else.

  “The messenger approached me. I didn’t try to tempt him or lure him—he wanted to tempt me. The first time he didn’t know the right words, so I was able to cheat him easily enough, to give him something that fit his terms that wasn’t what he expected. I couldn’t leave him empty handed, after all”—he gestured to me—“this one’s name did have value. But the second bargain—the second time it was he who cheated me. He seduced me with promises of my lost lover.”

  From the body language of the King and Queen, Ketya could see they had little patience with Kedessen’s argument. He persisted, though.

  “I fully intended to fulfill our agreement. He restored Senne to me in exchange for the return of his own lost love. It is not too late to complete that bargain.”

  I interjected—permitted at this point in the argument. That’s why I had wanted to go first, when interruptions weren’t allowed. “You try to argue that you intended to keep your bargain with my father”—my mention of our relationship was deliberate—“but given that you both were violating the spirit of the treaty, if not the letter, that’s far from evident. Especially in light of the previous bargain, which you did not keep.”

  “I was not required to keep my word before—” Kedessen started, then realized that he’d said too much.

  “Perhaps,” I responded. “But that’s not a persuasive defense of your intent to keep it this time. Everyone keeps their word when they are
watched and compelled. When you weren’t compelled you gave your word and broke it. You misled him.”

  “I wouldn’t break it now,” he said. “The agreement gave me a means to end my lover Senne’s cruel sacrifice.”

  “But you have already ended it, without fulfilling the bargain. You took your share of the bargain without paying for it. And you ended her sacrifice, which she willingly entered, by imprisoning her.” I was actually guessing there, but Kedessen and Juila had seemed to allude to it. And even a denial that he had imprisoned Senne wouldn’t exactly make Kedessen look good.

  “She is my lover. I will not be parted from her again.”

  “Does she feel the same way?”

  Kedessen didn’t answer. The other gods present already knew the answer, just as Juila had.

  After that, there wasn’t much for Kedessen to say. But he didn’t seem bothered.

  The King and Queen conferred briefly. Then the king spoke to me. “Very well, we accept your case against Kedessen as proven. What remains to determine is redress.”

  “I have a suggestion,” said Kedessen, a little too smoothly. This was his trap, I knew. “Why don’t I bring her father back to life and then complete the arrangement with him? Surely you don’t object to my returning your father to life?”

  I saw the stricken look on Guthre’s face. They really don’t trust me at all, I thought. And why should they? A few days ago would I have taken that deal? Probably. Maybe even a few hours ago. What had changed?

  Maybe I’m what’s changed, I thought. In any event, I knew what my response had to be.

  “Your majesties, under the redress clause of the treaty, it is not the violater’s place to suggest the terms of redress. The terms are to be jointly decided by the accuser and the leadership of the other side. They may choose from the specific penalties in the appropriate clauses, or reach an agreement together. Your majesties may suggest ways to fix the problem, but not Kedessen.”

  “Very well,” said the King. He didn’t seem surprised that I hadn’t accepted Kedessen’s bait. “What exactly would redress the problem, in your estimation?”

  I had thought a lot about how to answer this question, and still wasn’t entirely satisfied. “The violation would be satisfied by the restoration of magic to Ananya, under the same terms as before.” That didn’t seem like all the treaty would allow—there was room for penalties—but I was not in a strong bargaining position. I didn’t think I could push too hard.

  “I see,” the King said. “That is certainly a reasonable and minimal request.” Kedessen looked crestfallen. “But in deference to Kedessen’s point, we do weigh his reminder that Senne has sacrificed herself for many of your lifetimes. Does the restored magic need to flow from Senne?”

  A look of renewed hope crossed Kedessen’s face.

  What is the King getting at? I wondered. When in doubt, follow the exact wording of the treaty, I decided.

  “No,” I replied. “As long as the magic flows as it did before, through a conduit acceptable to both Ananya and to your majesties, under the terms of the treaty it doesn’t matter what god it comes from.”

  Kedessen looked smug. He thinks he’s getting what he wants. But I thought I was beginning to follow the thinking of the King and Queen.

  “May I point out that there is a god available for the purpose?” Kedessen looked at Juila as he said the words.

  “Under the terms of the treaty she isn’t available,” I answered. “She must be repatriated as a former prisoner of war, and compensated for her accidental imprisonment.” Not that anyone really thought it was accidental, but no need to say it aloud. “Besides, her magic has been stripped from her.”

  “Kedessen,” the King asked, “where is the girl’s mother now? The one you restored for the messenger but never returned to him? You did restore her, right? Her whereabouts may bear on our decision.”

  “Of course I restored her,” said Kedessen, his tone indignant, as if no one could ever doubt him. “She was placed in the house that the messenger planned to use as a permanent residence following his escape, under guard by my brother until it was clear the messenger would keep his end of the bargain. Once he did, the guard was removed, except for wards placed on the doors to keep her from leaving or anyone without Ananyan blood from entering. The messenger apparently did not fully trust his hosts, and asked me to put those wards on all the entrances until he arrived. Central Alliance guards watch the house now, but she is secure.”

  “She is imprisoned, you mean,” I said.

  “Call it what you will, but she is safe.”

  “Indeed,” said the King. “I think we know all that we must. Now we will confer. Please take your ease while we do. I will have food sent so you and your companions may eat. You will have our answer in a night and a day.”

  “I thank your majesties,” I said. “One of my companions was badly injured at Kedessen’s hand. I am afraid he may die before your judgment is rendered.”

  “He will not die today, nor tomorrow,” the King said, not unkindly. “And he may yet be healed by the same hand that looked to slay him.”

  Now what is that supposed to mean? I wondered. But all I said was, “I thank your majesties.”

  * * * *

  I think those first moments in front of the Court were when I became an adult. I had no idea what was about to happen, but it was the first time I ever had to deal with a crisis outside of the shadow of my father, when I couldn’t anticipate his disapproval with every word I chose less-than-perfectly.

  I thought I would be terrified, that I would forget everything he drilled into me. But that wasn’t what happened at all.

  You know what I was thinking that whole time I was dueling with Kedessen in front of the King and Queen of the gods?

  I was thinking, This is easy. I never thought I could do this, but it’s easy.

  I was always so bad at magic, and always so far below my father’s expectations, that I thought I was bad at everything.

  But every time I quoted from the treaty and found that I knew exactly what passage to cite, every time I countered one of Kedessen’s accusations, I would think, Is this what my father did?

  I loved it. There I was, with my father’s body on a bier right in front of me, dueling with a god. I had never felt so adult, or so alive.

  Afterward, part of me felt guilty—I think the same way Sperrin felt guilty when he killed somebody. But while it was going on, I felt the same joy those wolves must have felt when they were chasing us on the stairs, the joy of putting a quarry on the run and then hunting him down.

  That isn’t quite how things turned out, though.

  Chapter 29

  Ketya

  When I turned from the thrones, I saw three pavilions standing at the far end of the clearing. I had no idea if they’d just been conjured up or had appeared with the rest of the court. The pavilions had colorful fabric structures on them, like giant tents; the tent on the center pavilion had Ananya’s crest emblazoned across it.

  Not exactly subtle, I thought. But after the intense focus of the negotiations, I needed some time to relax and regroup before the next round.

  A pair of goat-headed attendants had placed Sperrin on a broad wooden board, like a small tabletop, which they used to carry him to the pavilion. Guthre and Juila followed, and I entered the tent just behind them.

  The inside of the tent seemed far bigger than the outside, with a spacious central room and several openings in the silk, revealing bedchambers. A diffuse light filled the tent, keeping all the rooms at a comfortable light level—like sun shining through fabric, but with no apparent light source. I wondered how it was done. I had plenty of training in magically lighting things, but this light seemed more elegant somehow, even though it drew on the same type of magic I’d trained in.

  The attendants placed Sperrin next to a pool of steaming water. The bath gave off a pleasing berry scent as I approached. Guthre knelt beside Sperrin, checking on him.

 
“How is he?” I asked. Really I didn’t want to talk to Guthre right now, but I could hardly avoid it. Guthre was Sperrin’s daughter.

  Guthre looked up at me with a wistful expression. “His bleeding has stopped, and he’s breathing more easily. Someone helped him magically, but I couldn’t tell you who. None of the gods touched him that I saw.”

  Juila walked up, and put a hand on Guthre’s shoulder. “You should rest. You fought hard. He will be well tended. I have never heard of a guest dying in one of the Court’s guesthouses. They are hospital, hostel, and prison all combined.”

  “Prison?” I asked.

  ”Of a sort. You can’t leave until the judgment of the Court is complete.”

  “How about Kedessen? Can he leave?”

  “No, he can’t either,” answered Juila.

  “Then I’m satisfied,” I said.

  Liveried servants, looking like men and women with the heads of sheep, entered bearing covered trays of food. Others brought bottles of various chilled juices. They placed the dishes on a low table in the center of the room, surrounded by flimsy looking, diaphanous furniture of the same fabric that formed the tent. The chairs proved sturdier than I expected, and far more comfortable, like reclining on cushions filled with air.

  I let myself sink into a chair, and almost fell asleep on the spot. A wave of exhaustion hit me as the energy from the negotiation wore off.

  “You should eat,” said Juila. “You can rest after, and it will make you feel better. You’ve never tasted anything like the food of the gods. It’s very restoring.”

  I never imagined I’d have a god trying to convince me to eat.

  Trying a morsel, I found Juila hadn’t exaggerated: It resembled human food, but the flavors tasted richer and more nuanced, as if everything I’d ever eaten was just a pale shadow of the food served here. Soon I found herself eating with an unexpected appetite.

  “What’s the magic here?” I asked Juila when I felt more alert. “I thought I understood magic pretty well, but I haven’t seen anything like this.”