by Janice Hardy
“Nya, you hear that?” Aylin asked, jumping up and down beside me.
I listened and smiled. “They’re chanting to Saint Saea.”
Aylin laughed and slapped my leg. “No, they’re chanting Nya.”
They couldn’t be! The wind gusted, bringing the words right to my ears.
“Ny-a!”
“Ny-a!”
“Ny-a!”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Eight days they’d been gone. For eight whole days we’d been free.
The first two days, the fires had burned. The last of the Duke’s soldiers had fled Geveg in terror, dropping lamps and torches, kicking over camp stoves, igniting homes and fences throughout the North and Aristocrats’ Isles. The fire crews put out what they could, and the Duke’s soldiers never regrouped, never returned. They’d left Geveg burning, just as they’d intended, but they’d left.
The next six days we regrouped.
Families found each other, and friends mourned the dead. We grieved for those we’d lost and celebrated with those we’d saved.
Sunshine warmed my face while I stood in a room that used to be mine. It was charred now, blackened by the fires that had raged through the terraces and the rest of the aristocrat district.
“All gone,” Tali said, crunching her way into my old room. She was better now, talking some, but not fully healed. Ginkev wasn’t sure she ever would be, but I had hope.
“It was nice before. Soft colors, soft furniture. Always smelled like food.”
“Mama smelled like flowers.”
I nodded, eyes watering. “She did. She was beautiful too, and kind, and strong.” I held on to her strength. I needed that today.
I walked to the wardrobe and knocked aside the charred door. Found wet clothes in sooty piles. I pulled one out. Pants big enough for me and Tali together. I dropped them.
“This is foolish. There’s nothing here that’s mine.” I don’t know why I expected to find anything of ours in our old villa. Just that … we’d won. Everything should have gone back to the way it was.
What’s done is done, and I can’t change it none.
Mama was still dead. Papa, Grannyma, Wen and Lenna. Soek and Quenji. Even Ipstan. Hundreds more whose names I didn’t know, faces I’d never seen.
I’d never play in the fountain again. Never roll in the grass with Tali. Never curl up on the couch while Mama read to us.
My old life was nothing but ash, just like my old home.
“Come on,” I said. “There’s nothing here but a burned villa.”
I led Tali down the wrought-iron spiral staircase in the back—the only stairs left—and exited through the hole that used to be the rear kitchen door. Crossed what was once the garden, where Mama had weeded her violets while Tali chased butterflies. Lake gulls and buzzards circled above, looking for bits of charred things to fill their bellies.
Two guards waited by the front door, standing on the blackened stone path where Wen had died. They fell into step as I passed, one man in front and one behind. Just a precaution, Jeatar had said, until the curiosity about me died down.
I’d thought that would have ceased when my eyes stopped glowing, but they’d been normal three days now and there was no sign of it fading. I didn’t mind the praise so much—we’d worked hard for that—but the adoration? I could do without that.
It was getting better, though. People were clingy at first, wanting to touch me, to meet me; but once they did, they realized I wasn’t a saint. I was just a girl.
A strange girl, to be sure, but not that different from them.
We left the villa’s grounds and walked into the street. The cleanup crews stopped working and cheered, chanting my name like the soldiers had the last night of the war.
I prayed that would stop soon too. Aylin said being a hero would last longer than being a saint.
A carriage waited at the end of the walk, with more guards around it, but not mine. They all wore League green and gold, though folks were working on a different style for Geveg’s new uniforms.
“Wait, that’s not my carriage.” It was nicer and bigger.
“The Duke wanted to speak to you,” one of the guards said, opening the carriage door.
My first instinct was to run, but I couldn’t be afraid of that title anymore.
I climbed in. Jeatar sat on the far side, arms crossed, giving me his “you’re in trouble again” stare.
Okay, maybe I should be a little afraid of it.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted. He should have left for Baseer by now.
“I was about to ask you that.”
“I wanted to see my … the villa.”
His stare softened. “You should have told me. I’d have come with you.”
I took my seat, and Tali slid in next to me. “Mean and Nasty came with us.” I waved a hand at my guards. Tali had nicknamed them, which they’d found funny and they had kept the names. That’s when I started liking them.
“But not inside the villa,” he said gently.
“No.”
I didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t ask. He told Mean to take us back to the League, and the carriage lurched forward.
People were already lining the streets, waving and cheering as we passed.
“Any chance they’re cheering for you?” I said.
“No.” Jeatar chuckled. “I didn’t save the city.”
“Yes, you did. You held back the Duke’s soldiers and planned the defenses and even led the attack on the Duke’s troops. Geveg wouldn’t be free without you.”
“You’d have found a way.”
“They think I’m a saint.”
He smiled. “They think you’re a hero.”
“Nya saved the city, Nya saved us all. They thought that they would beat us, but Nya made them fall,” Tali sang softly, watching the city pass outside.
“See? Even she knows it.”
I sighed and leaned against the seat. I didn’t want all this attention. Sure, it was nice to be appreciated, but so many people knowing my face and my name couldn’t be good. It was always safer when no one noticed you.
“When are you leaving for Baseer?” Once he’d officially come out of hiding, all his contacts and supporters had started talking about him, spreading rumors that he was back and fighting for Geveg. The Baseeri practically demanded he take the throne.
“In a few days. I have some things I want to finish up here first.”
“Like what?”
“Like making sure the Baseeri and Gevegians don’t start fighting over who gets to run the city.”
“Rumors say Balju wants the job.” Balju was also doing just as much talking as everyone else about Jeatar taking the throne. I suspected he wanted Jeatar out of Geveg before folks started thinking he’d make a better governor than duke.
“What do you think?”
“He doesn’t much like Gevegians.” Sure, he’d fought alongside us, but I could still hear him asking why Jeatar would try to help us. The sneer in his voice. “I don’t think we’d approve of his appointment.”
Jeatar chuckled. “Neither do I.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” We really didn’t need another war.
“More of a headache.” He paused, staring at me a moment. “I was thinking about suggesting Onderaan.”
“Really? Does he even want to be governor?”
He shrugged. “He’s never said, but he’s Baseeri, so Balju and his people will accept him. And he’s an Analov, so Gevegians will accept him. Best still, he’s your uncle, so if they don’t like it, you can go out and convince them otherwise.” He grinned mischievously.
“Onderaan’s nice,” Tali said.
Jeatar nodded. “Yes, he is.”
Onderaan, in charge of Geveg. I smiled. “You’re right. I think he’d make a good governor.”
Besides, it kept things in the family, and that felt … right.
“Nya,” Tali called, jumping up and down in the doorway of my r
oom in our town house. “Hurry, hurry.”
“She’s right,” said Aylin. “We’re going to miss the skiff.”
“It’s not going to leave without us.” I shoved the rest of my things into my pack. Aylin groaned and snatched them away from me.
“You don’t treat expensive clothes that way.” She folded the fine dresses and tailored pants into neat squares and opened the pack. Gifts had been arriving for the last month. I hadn’t wanted to keep any of them, but Aylin swore refusing them would upset folks, and I didn’t want to cause another war, did I?
An exaggeration to be sure, but she did have a point. Some of the gifts were small, flowers or sweetcakes, but from Gevegians I’d helped. Refusing them would be an insult.
“What do you have in here, rocks?” she asked. “Do you really want to be all wrinkled for Jeatar’s coronation?”
“They’ll hang out by then. We have a whole week.” Even if it was a whole week of parties and events I didn’t want to go to. Neither did Jeatar, but he couldn’t exactly skip his own coronation festivities. He’d put it off for nearly a month now, and while he was ruling without challenge, the aristocrats wanted their official crowning with all the pomp. Just to be safe.
Soldiers all over the Three Territories had been recalled, and Jeatar had worked with Onderaan and Verlatta’s new self-appointed governor to create a joint guard to patrol the roads and borders. Travel was much safer now, though there were still problems. Probably always would be problems, but every step got you closer to the end of the path.
He’d put Balju in charge of it, which made it easier to make Onderaan governor. Both had been surprised, but happy, with the arrangement.
“Nya, what are these?” Aylin pulled two books from my pack.
“I wanted to get in some studying while we were away.”
She tossed the books onto the bed. “Ginkev gave you the week off. You don’t have any classes to study for.”
“I have a lot of catching up to do.”
I wasn’t an official apprentice, but Ginkev had offered me a spot in class anyway. He said my knowledge was scattered worse than scared mice, and it would take him at least a year to fill in the gaps of my training before he could figure out what cord I might be. I was okay with that. I didn’t know who or what I was either.
“Here.” Aylin handed me the pack, my clothes neatly folded inside. “Your assignment this week is to have fun.”
I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”
We left my room and hurried down the stairs. Our town house was a gift from Jeatar—or as he claimed, a gift from Geveg. Small, only two floors, but with more than enough room for just us. Aylin’s room was next to mine, Tali’s across the hall. I hoped one day she’d return to her apprenticeship, same as the other Takers in Geveg. Most of them anyway. Some had chosen to enter the new Protectors’ League and learn how to fight and heal. I didn’t see her choosing that.
“No time for lunch?” Kelsea asked, poking her head out of the kitchen. She’d come with the town house, a sweet blond girl who was always smiling no matter how sour the rest of us got. Jeatar claimed she was the daughter of a soldier who’d died in the war, one who really needed a job, but she was older than me and seemed quite capable of caring for herself. She also chopped vegetables like they’d personally offended her.
She was a bodyguard, sure as sugar.
I was pretty sure Kelsea knew I’d figured out her secret, but we both pretended she was only a housemistress. I liked her, and so did Tali and Aylin, so it wasn’t hard.
Mean and Nasty waved to Tali as she raced toward the carriage. Not mine, one of Onderaan’s. He was pretty busy with the governor’s job, but he still worked with Jeatar, using Zertanik’s enchanter’s book to develop weapons. We kept that secret.
“Ready to go back to Baseer?” Danello greeted me with a kiss. He and his family had the town house across the street, another of Jeatar’s gifts.
“No, but it’s not like I can get out of it.” I climbed in and took a seat in the otherwise empty carriage. “Where is everyone?”
“Da left with the twins and Halima a few days ago. They wanted to get there early and visit Ouea.” He grinned. “I think Da’s sweet on her.”
I smiled. Ouea had taken care of Jeatar’s farmhouse and probably had her hands full now running the palace. “You’d certainly eat better if they got married.”
“I don’t think it’s that serious yet.”
“It’s almost spring,” Aylin said. “Love is supposed to be in the air, right?” She took my pack and put it with her bag in the trunk on the rear of the carriage.
Danello flushed pink. “Yeah, well, maybe.”
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Tali said, leaning over the side of the carriage. She liked to ride on the driver’s bench with Nasty. Mean took his place in the rear.
Aylin hopped in, and we rumbled off, moving slowly through the streets. A few shop windows boasted new glass, though most were still boarded up. Many shops hadn’t reopened, and rumors had it the Finance Master was worried about there being too many jobs and not enough people to fill them. Quite the change from last summer, when I’d waited twenty deep to get a job unloading fish.
Geveg was wounded, but we’d heal. Healing was what we did best.
“They’ve done so much this week.” Danello gazed out the window, his fingers entwined in mine. “You should see all the lumber coming in from Verlatta. The docks are stacked with it.”
“I can’t believe how fast they rebuilt them,” I said.
The docks had been the first project. Our farming and rancher isles provided some food, but we relied on supplies brought over from Dorpstaad. Once the wharf was functioning again, work crews began rebuilding homes and shops. They ignored the ruined aristocrat district. Those who could afford villas would return eventually, but for now we had to focus on getting our people housed and fed.
And protected, of course. We’d been caught unprepared before, and we weren’t about to ignore security again. Soldiers patrolled the streets, dressed in purple and white, with a white violet patch on their uniforms. The soldiers greeted folks as they passed, watching over us this time, preventing looting instead of leading it.
Then there was the weapon. Hidden away in the League, but ready to defend Geveg against any attack, same as I was. The threat of that would keep us safe well after folks stopped calling me a hero.
As long as those who wanted to hurt us didn’t stop fearing I might be a saint.
“Let me ask you something,” Aylin said, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. “I was thinking about apprenticing myself.”
“Really? Doing what?” I asked.
“I’m not sure yet. Either with one of the dressmakers or the glassblower.”
Danello thought it over. “I think you’d be good at both.”
“You do?” She grinned. “Nya, which do you like?”
“The glassblower. You’d get bored making dresses all day. The most excitement there would be someone stabbing their thumb with a needle.”
We laughed.
“You might be right,” Aylin said. “There’s fire at the glassblower’s. Danger every day. Much more exciting.”
I grinned. “You can always try both. Pick whichever you like better.”
“I can, can’t I?” She smiled as if amazed she even had a choice, let alone two.
“I was thinking about teaching at the Protectors’ League,” Danello said quietly. “Kione says they’d probably hire me as an assistant rapier instructor.”
“Your mother would have liked that. You teaching like she did.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
We passed Analov Park, cleared of refugees and now blooming with new flowers and bushes. Great-grandfather’s statue sat at the center, his blank eyes gazing out across the lake, his arms outstretched. Birds perched on them, leaving a mess underneath. There were rumors they were making a statue of me, but I hoped it was just gossip.
“I don’t k
now what I’m going to do.” I’d never really thought about it before. I’d always been too focused on surviving my todays to think about my tomorrows. “I can’t be a real Healer, even after I finish my training. Someone would always have to transfer the pain into pynvium for me. Onderaan showed me some enchanting, but it bothered my stomach whenever I tried it. I can’t do anything else.”
“You’re good at organizing people,” Danello said. “And really good at telling them what to do.” He grinned.
“Very bossy.” Aylin laughed.
“You could be a dock foreman,” said Danello.
“Or a ferry director.”
“Work your way up to harbormaster.”
“Once you graduate from the League, you could be Luminary.”
“Why stop there?” Danello said. “You could always be governor.” His laughter stopped. He looked at Aylin, and she nodded, eyes wide and bright. “Actually, you really could be governor one day.”
Me?” I gaped. “Running all of Geveg?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s…”
Impossible? No more so than what I’d already done. Onderaan wasn’t the first one in my family to be governor. If it was in Jeatar’s blood to rule, maybe it was in mine too.
“There’s one problem, though,” said Danello, frowning. But his eyes twinkled.
“Which is?”
“Governor is a step down from saint.”
I smacked him in the arm, laughing. But I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind. Me, Governor.
“I bet there are some apprenticeships open,” Danello said. “Maybe even an assistant to one of the Council members.”
Aylin nodded. “Who wouldn’t want the savior of Geveg working for them?”
Plenty of folks, probably, but all I needed was one to agree. And as the Governor’s niece, surely one person would.
I smiled. “Governor it is, then.”
I guess both Geveg and I had a future after all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For four years I’ve been living in Geveg and following Nya on her journey. I’d have to say I’ve had more fun than she has, but I’ve also had a lot more people to help me through the rough spots. I never would have made it this far without the love and support of my husband, Tom. Even though I was too scared to let him read any of my writing until I got my agent, he still stuck by me and encouraged me to follow my dream. Now that the series is done, I think I’ll finally let him read the whole thing.