Flecks of Gold

by Buck, Alicia

  “Of course not.” I knew what he was fishing for, but I didn’t feel in the mood to flirt. It was too much work.

  “Poor princess, you have had a rough time here, haven’t you?”

  I deemed that unworthy of a response, but he took my silence as acquiescence.

  “I see you do not wish to complain, but it tears my heart that I can do nothing to ease your burden. Perhaps . . .” He trailed off, baiting me.

  I was actually a little curious about what he was up to, so I took the worm. “Perhaps what, Doln Rafan?” I batted my eyes in what I thought was obvious sarcasm. I guess not.

  “You must know how much I love you, Princess,” he said.

  I was floored.

  He continued. “If you married me, you would be protected. You would have real status. No one could hurt you,” he whispered in my ear. He actually sounded and looked sincere. I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was open and close my mouth like a fish.

  “Don’t answer now, just think about it, and know I will come whenever you call for me.” The dance ended, and Rafan gave me a yearning look before disappearing into the crowd. But his gravelly words stayed with me. What was with this guy? I didn’t understand him. Did he really love me? I had been pretty sure he was just a lady’s man, a courtly flirt full of flowery nonsense, but had I misread him?

  I accepted the training general’s next invitation in a haze of confusion, too deep in thought to pay much attention, so when the dance ended, it took me a moment to understand that he was asking if I needed to sit down.

  “You seem dazed, Mary. Can I get you a drink or lead you to a chair?”

  “What? I’m sorry, Training General, I’m not quite feeling myself. It would be nice to sit down.”

  He led me to the same table I had sat at with Breeohan, but I stopped him before he could leave. “Would you mind sitting with me?” I didn’t want to be trapped into any more odd or unpleasant conversations this evening. “How goes the search for my mother?” I asked, hoping desperately for a breakthrough so I could just leave the palace and not have to worry about death threats or marriage proposals.

  “We continue to search.” He avoided my eyes. That was weird. In the little time I’d known him, he had never sounded so shifty before. But then, it had been a long night. I was already on emotional overload, so there was no trusting my observational skills at the moment. We watched the dancers in silence until the music ended.

  There was a sudden hush as the king stood on the dais and announced, “Zefa Aria and her faithful troupe of musicians have prepared a special musical number for your enjoyment.” His expression was carefully neutral.

  Everyone turned to the musician’s stand in expectation. I heard a few titters, and then stunned silence hit the crowd as a large drum boomed in syncopated rhythm, followed by the wail of a bassoonlike instrument that flew over the scales in a wild manner, barely staying with the drumbeat. Next, a plucked instrument entered the musical fray, twanging away while a rattle shook in opposition to the drum.

  I loved it. It was so unlike the stuffy, flat music I’d been listening to all evening, but the people around me went rigid with alarm and embarrassment. A woman near me winced when Zefa Aria started singing in a controlled wail that jumped and flowed with the instruments. I thought it was beautiful and intriguing but quickly saw that I was the only one. I felt sorry for Aria and her band; they were playing to the wrong audience.

  When the song finished, a collective sigh spread through the room. No one clapped. I wasn’t sure if people clapped here so I didn’t either, but my sympathy for Aria rose a notch. I decided to stay just a little longer so that I could tell her how much I enjoyed her performance. I wanted more than anything to leave, but no one deserved such a cold reception to what had obviously taken a lot of preparation.

  I excused myself from Sogran and stood to look for Zefa Aria. Halfway to the musicians someone stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

  I sighed. “Leave me alone, Avana. You saw the fight Breeohan and I got into. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

  “How could you think I would be happy about that? I feel so horrible and responsible somehow, though I truly don’t know what I did to make you two fight. Will you please forgive me?” Avana asked.

  What? That didn’t sound like the Avana I knew and loathed. I looked around and, sure enough, saw Breeohan within hearing range trying not to look like he was listening. What a little snake. If I told her off now it would look like I was making the whole thing up. She was certainly a sneaky devil, and I was at a loss as to what I should do. Finally, I decided I didn’t care.

  “You feel guilt? I didn’t think it was in your nature, especially during moments of triumph. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said. Avana’s eyes glinted happily before she moved aside and began a brilliant performance of the poor, snubbed maiden only trying to be kind and loving to those who, for no reason that she could see, hated her. She even shed a few tears. Breeohan, of course, strode to her side to lend comfort, but not before a brief hesitation when he looked from Avana to me in confusion.

  I strode on toward the musicians, who were carefully packing up their instruments in hard leather cases. Zefa Aria was with her husband, putting away the large plucked instrument. But she turned when she noticed my approach.

  “I just wanted to thank you for your beautiful music. I thought it was wonderful,” I said.

  She looked close to tears. Her husband rested a soothing hand on her shoulders. At my words, however, her face glowed. “Did you really? It took us ages to find the manuscripts that described the instruments’ original forms, and then we only had fragmented music to work with, so we had to do some guessing and arranging to get it to what we think was the principal sound of the music. But,” her face fell again, “no one seemed to like it.”

  “Well, I did. I could tell you put a lot of work into the performance. It was the best thing I heard all evening.” I acted over-enthusiastic to make up for the lack from everyone else.

  “Oh, thank you, Princess. I can’t tell you how much it means to hear someone of your superb lineage say something like that to me.”

  “Yes, well.” A stab of conscience smote me. “I hope to hear you again.” I bowed and headed for the stairs and door as fast as my aching feet allowed.

  Once in my room I couldn’t wait for Sentai’s slow and careful ministrations. I tore at my hair until the crown headpiece came free, and performed the lacing to fix my headache. Only then did I feel well enough to let Sentai finish undressing me at a slower pace.

  After I was disrobed, I tried to perform a cleaning lacing, but was too tired to complete it. In my emotionally fatigued state, this fact almost brought on a melt-down and made me realize how dependent on lacing magic I’d become. I had to wait for Sentai to draw up a bath, all the while wishing to just fall asleep, but not wanting to wake up with the mask of makeup still smeared on my face. I crawled into bed after the bath and fell asleep the moment my cheek touched the pillow.

  Chapter 15

  The blanket of warm light that fell across my eyes the next morning was an unwelcomed and unwanted alarm clock. However, I didn’t want to incur the wrath of the training general if I was late, so I got up and had Sentai dress me. I hardly had to remind myself not to fidget as Sentai administered to me. That didn’t mean I liked it any better. Such coddling seemed like a horrible waste of time and energy all around, but I gritted my teeth and bore it to satisfy Sentai’s sense of propriety and avoid any more rumors about my commoner behavior.

  My body fought wakefulness even as I meandered to the training grounds. The sun’s gentle warmth so early in the day was like a soft massage on my shoulders and head. I walked even slower, closing my eyes every few steps. So when I entered the practice room to find Sogran still not there, I was rather surprised and relieved. I’d taken longer on my way than I’d intended and was, in fact, late to the training grounds.

  I decided to stretch while I waited, th
en after he still didn’t come, I did some sword warm-ups. Twenty minutes passed. I really started to wonder, so I went through the door into the main practice area. The noise level in this area was substantially different than when I’d first entered. There were only three pairs sparring, with a few hangers-on watching the bouts. I couldn’t see Sogran anywhere.

  I walked up to a man watching one of the matches. He was concentrating on the fighters, and even my “excuse me” didn’t merit more than a flick of his eyes before he trained his bug-eyed orbs back on the sparring.

  “Could you tell me where the training general is?” I asked.

  He was silent for so long I thought he hadn’t heard me. But just as I was about to ask again he said, “He’s gone somewhere with the king. Took a few soldiers with them and gave the rest a half day’s break.” He never took his eyes off the fight.

  Weird. I did remember the king saying something about moving the ball up because he had to do something today. But Sogran hadn’t said anything about canceling our practice. I shrugged and watched the fight for a few minutes.

  After leaving, I wandered back to my room and plopped myself onto the bed. The sudden absence of activity made me think again of Mom and things I could do to find her. There had to be some sort of lacing I could discover that would help.

  A knock at the door interrupted my musings. “The king wishes to see you, Princess,” Sentai informed me. So he was back. I was curious as to where he and the training general had gone. The king had said it was something that could not be delayed, but he hadn’t said what, so I doubted I was on the list of people he would confide in.

  I found myself standing in front of the guarded doors of the king’s study once more, but I didn’t have to wait. The two guards swung the door open for me. The smell of old books and dust tickled my nose as I walked past the shelved hallway that opened into the study. The king looked up from a paper he was studying and gave me one of his unreadable looks.

  “Thank you for coming, Mary. I think we have solved the mystery of who has your mother,” he said, his eyes intense.

  I felt like I was missing something he expected me to know. “Who?” I almost shouted, but managed to keep my voice from rising too much.

  “Kelteon.”

  Something about that name sounded familiar. It took me a second, but then I had it. “Wait, isn’t that the guy Breeohan told me about who tried to take over the throne but was banished when he failed?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know it’s him?” I still felt like I was missing an important piece of information.

  “He sent a letter.”

  Now I was really confused, why would Kelson—no Kelteon must be his real name—send a letter to the king about my mother? What did either of us have to do with anyone in this foreign place? A suspicion formed in my mind, but it was too preposterous to be true. Besides, there were at least four people that I had heard of who had gone to Earth and could be my father, and that was only the people from Iberloah.

  There was a whole world here. If indeed, as I suspected, my father had come from this world, it was unlikely he was the king sitting so inscrutably before me. Studying my face again, he looked like he was going to add more. But then his eyes dropped to his desk, and he shuffled through some documents until he pulled a map from beneath the papers, set it on top of them, and turned it toward me.

  “When Kelteon was banished, we know he went over to the country of Zephti. But my spies lost track of him some time ago. It’s uncertain where he is now, but we will search for him and your mother.”

  I stared at the map as if I could get it to tell me where Kelteon was if I just concentrated hard enough. Nothing spoke to me. I sighed and looked up at the king, who was staring at me. It made me nervous. “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. You can stay here while I send others to search. I don’t want to give Kelteon the chance to get his hands on you.”

  I grew a little annoyed. “Why would it even matter? It isn’t like I’m a real princess,” I said, baiting him. “I don’t see any reason why this Kelteon person is even interested in holding my mother and me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  I almost thought the king was going to say something, but we were interrupted by the king’s servant who came through the hall into the study. “Sire, the council has assembled and is waiting for you.”

  “I will come immediately.” The servant bowed out again. “I must address the council about this, but we will talk again later. For the present, I would ask that you confine your movements to your room and the training area. It seems you are already making a few especially rigid nobles feel threatened, and I don’t want things to get more disturbed than they already are.” He hesitated a moment, glancing swiftly at me as I seethed with resentment, and then he walked around his desk, past my chair, and out the door.

  So now I was a prisoner of sorts. What in the world was going on anyway? When I finally got enough control over myself to huff out of the king’s study, I found the same servant who had led me to it ready to take me back to my room again. I preceded him in huffy silence. Not that he noticed or cared. I felt more lost and trapped than ever. But I was powerless to do anything about it.

  In my room I sat at the table and simmered like sauce left too long on the stove. “Sentai, I will have dinner in my room tonight, and if anyone asks, I am not feeling well.”

  She must have noticed the storm cloud drooping over my head for she didn’t comment, just nodded and slipped out quietly. I stared at the table without seeing it, thinking about what the king had said. Why was he suddenly restricting my movement, and how had he found out it was Kelteon? Had that been the purpose of his little trip this morning?

  Had Kelteon really written a letter, telling the king he had some foreign woman? I couldn’t imagine what Kelteon would say in such an epistle. Something like, “How’s it going, King Verone? I know I tried to kill you, but I just thought I’d write to bring you up-to-date on what’s been going on with me lately. I’ve been busy with my plotting. How ’bout you? Any new schemes in the works? Oh, yeah, I remember you knew something about Earth, so I thought I’d tell you about this lady I recently kidnapped. Aren’t Earthlings funny? Hope to see you six feet under. Sincerely, Kelteon.”

  The absurdity of my mock letter made me laugh, and the raincloud over my head lifted a little. I sat up straight. The training general had been acting a little funny last night; maybe they had found something even before today. For the moment I was powerless, so I lay on the bed to rest my eyes while I waited.

  I must’ve rested in reality, for when I opened my eyes again, a candle illuminated the dinner Sentai had laid out. She, however, was nowhere in sight. She had an uncanny ability to appear and disappear. I walked through the shadowy room to the door, opening it a crack. Light streamed in, and a man to the side of the door turned.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Princess?” he asked, giving me a bow. A sword hung at his belt. I forced a smile as a shiver of fear and rage ran up my spine.

  “Yes. Would you be so kind as to send for Zefan Breeohan? I need to see him as soon as possible,” I said.

  “Of course, Your Highness. I will have a servant fetch him at once.”

  The door slid shut. I stood for a moment getting reaccustomed to the darker shadows of my room before moving to the table of food. So I was truly a prisoner. The guard knocked that truth into me like a sledge hammer in a way the king’s subtle command had not. My insides tumbled with fear and frustration.

  Like my shadowy room, I had little light to see by lately. Even though I now knew the name of the person who had Mom, I felt no closer to finding her than before. I had to either get more information, or get out, preferably both. But I needed Breeohan’s help for both these things and considering the state of affairs between us, I wasn’t at all sure I could trust him to help me either.

  I chewed my food mechanically, hardly noticing it as I mulled over what I should say to
Breeohan. A light tap on the door made me aware that my food was gone.

  “Come in.”

  The hinge creaked slightly as the door opened to reveal Breeohan’s silhouette. He stepped in, and hesitated to let his eyes adjust to the small candle before sitting opposite me. The tiny flame made his amethyst eyes richer, and I wished for a better light so that I could read his expressions more clearly.

  “Do you enjoy being in the dark?” he asked.

  “Not at all. That’s why I sent for you.” His eyebrows rose questioningly, but even in the dimness of the room Breeohan was not good at hiding his emotions. I could see he knew something. “What do you know, Breeohan?”

  “About what?”

  “Please don’t play with me. How does the king know Kelteon has my mother?”

  “From a letter.”

  “From Kelteon?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes.” Breeohan looked up to the ceiling and performed a fire lacing to light the chandelier above. A dozen candles burst into flame, lighting the edges of the room and brightening the purple of his eyes.

  His tactic didn’t distract me, however. “Why would Kelteon suddenly write the king a letter and mention my mother?”

  “It was intercepted. It was not meant for the king.”

  I narrowed my eyes and studied the set of Breeohan’s jaw. His teeth were clenched though he tried to stare at me innocently.

  “I see. And for whom was the letter intended?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that the king is sending out men to find him.”

  “Did the letter say where Kelteon is?” I asked, feeling excited.

  “It didn’t specifically mention the place, but the king was able to determine where the letter came from.”

  I slumped back in my chair, thinking. “Something doesn’t seem right about all this. It seems a little convenient. How did King Verone find out about the letter?”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me everything, Mary, and I didn’t ask. What does it matter? I would have thought that you would be happy to know we are so close.”