The Sand Prince

by Kim Alexander

  "I am not fat."

  May wasn’t finished. "We’ve heard it all before, was my point." She looked around the table. The eldest va’Everly, Pol, was reading the newspaper. The youngest, Scilla, was sipping chocolate with one hand and writing in her little notebook with the other. Of the siblings, Scilla and May looked most similar, both like carved cameos with wide eyes and long, curling dark hair. Pol, Rane and Lelet were all fair and grey eyed, but no one dared to mention how similar Lelet and Rane looked. At the moment, Rane's hair was longer than Lelet's.

  Scilla looked up. "What?" She blinked at her siblings as if she'd just woken up. "Lelly. Missed you at dinner last night. You know I leave after breakfast."

  Lelet shrugged. "Sorry, Scil. Something came up. We'll have a nice dinner together next time. Or maybe I'll come visit you at school."

  "Of course she will. That would be lovely of you. Lelly, maybe you can take a writing class with that teacher Scil's been talking about. You know the one," said May. It would get Lelet out of the house and give her a hobby that didn't require a team of workmen and a lot of money. "The one who wrote that book." Scilla looked dubious, but said nothing. May continued, "Lelet, get your coffee and take some powder for your head, it’s at your plate."

  May ran the meals—and the household—with precision and economy. Or at least she liked to think she did. Sometimes she wondered if anyone would notice if she simply drifted down to breakfast and expected the coffee to be hot and the table set. Last night, now that was a failure of economy, in that the meal had been rather more lavish than a midweek dinner might normally be. But Scilla was so excited to share her last meal at home with her family. No. Her last meal with Lelet, the unlikely and unknowing object of Scilla's worship. Lelet, who so casually dropped hints and tidbits of the life Scilla herself would never get to experience. Lelet, who barely noticed anything that didn't result in a new dress on her back or a new boy on her arm. Lelet, who never showed up for dinner. And here she was, grey faced and smelling like cigarette smoke, but still ready to jump back into the fray with her brother.

  The fighting between her two siblings was no longer acceptable. It was unbecoming. In fact, she had resolved to Do Something. What, exactly, she wasn't sure. What would Mother do? May would ask herself, although she didn't like to think about the answer. What would Father do was more tempting because the answer was to leave and just not come home.

  May watched the unfolding breakfast skirmish as Lelet slid into her seat at the long table. She contemplated eggs but paused with her fork in midair as if it were all too much. Rane helpfully passed her a plate of duck sausage, bursting with garlic. She gave him a withering glare and pushed them as far from her plate as she could reach. He quickly replaced the plate with a platter of creamed herring. She defiantly speared a bite of fish with her fork and made a great show of eating it. He nodded appreciatively and conceded the battlefield of the breakfast table.

  With Lelet sorted out for the moment, May turned to Scilla, lost as usual in her journal.

  "Scilla, are you nearly ready? I’ll call Per to bring the trap around. Here, I’ve packed some lunch for your trip. You're to stay at these two inns, the keepers are expecting you and it’s all settled, just do try and write when you get back to the Guardhouse."

  Poor Scilla, May thought. She hoped her little sister was making nice new friends and learning... whatever it was they taught out there. She certainly spent enough time taking notes, she must be studying something special.

  Scilla looked up with a smile as she closed her little book. "I’m ready, all packed. Thank you, May. This has been the best trip ever."

  ***

  After they had seen Scilla off, May and Lelet set off on their morning walk around the garden. It was a lovely, warm day. There wouldn't be many more before the Sugar-Be-Gones would go to seed and they'd find frost on the last few roses.

  "Your head?" inquired May, snipping a bunch of mint. She handed it over. She knew Lelet loved the bright aroma.

  "Better, thank you." She held the herbs to her face, crushing the leaves and inhaling deeply and with pleasure. "But I know it was Rane—"

  "Yes, let’s talk about you and Rane. It’s time for this to stop." May closed her gardening scissors and put them in her basket. She knew Lelet would have a laundry list of reasons why her fight with Rane was good and true, and how no one understood her torment. This was a conversation she'd been working up to for some time. She didn't like a scene. And true to form, Lelet had begun her defense.

  "But I didn’t do anything!" She dropped the crushed stems. The fragrance clung to her hands and rose around them both.

  A lovely aroma, thought May, for an unlovely chat. Well, no putting it off now.

  "Hmm. You will, though. Of course you’ll retaliate. What happened when he snapped the heels off all your shoes?" May asked.

  "I put spiders in his shoes," Lelet nodded.

  "And what about that thing... he told Billah? About you and the groom?" May made a face.

  "Hmm? What thing?" Lelet gave her sister an innocent smile.

  "You know... the thing." May's eyes got wide and she pinched Lelet on the arm.

  "Thing... thing....Oh, you mean the thing where he said I was F-U-C-K-ing the groom?"

  May flung up a hand. She hated that kind of talk.

  "I know," Lelet said, "I 'm sorry. You're right, that's crass. He said we were doing the thing. We were disturbing the horses, we were—"

  "I know you think this is funny, Lelly. But please remind me what you did in return."

  "I poured his precious whiskey into his wardrobe, as you know. Rane ruined everything, again. What if I wanted to marry Billah?"

  "Really? Marry Billah. Really."

  Lelet blushed but held her ground.

  "You will not be marrying that boy. He believed Rane, for one thing. That's an indication of a mind, shall we say, a bit too wide open. Beyond that, I have had to have too many conversations with the Families regarding your... special relationship with your brother."

  "I didn’t start it." Lelet folded her arms.

  "By the Veil, Lel, are you five years old? It’s tiresome to me and embarrassing to the Family. You know it’s my responsibility to wed, and soon. And do you know what everyone asks? They want to know how it stands with you two. It was one thing when you were in the nursery, but now it’s the next thing to brawling in the streets. I don’t like having to explain another round of ‘high spiritedness’ to my callers." Her callers, who before they even sat down for tea or wine looked cautiously around the dining room for signs of incipient warfare. It was like living with zoo animals, with someone always ready to pounce.

  Lelet curled up next to her sister on a little stone bench. May shook her head at Lelly's foolishness and stroked her vivid pink hair. This color, she thought, has got to go.

  "Why do you have to marry some rich Family boy? I won’t like him. I want things to stay like they are."

  "Lelet, you are not a child. You know perfectly well that the eldest runs the business and the next makes a good marriage. You know it’s my job, just as Scilla has a job."

  "I don’t. Rane doesn’t. There’s never anything to do. It’s so boring. What if I wanted to study at the Guardhouse, or do what Pol does?"

  May covered a smile with her hand. "If you can tell me what Pol does, I will talk to him about letting you help."

  "He... he...he pays the bills. He does things with paper. He writes letters to Father. Shit."

  "Exactly. And as far as you at the Guardhouse, I will forget you ever said it. You do have a job, my little love. Your job is to attend functions, be charming, and not embarrass the rest of us. Take classes, if you wish. Go to lectures with Althee. Read a book. Paint. If you behave like the lovely young lady you are, you might marry a First or Second yourself, so think of that. Your own home, maybe in the Upper Garden. The Families consolidate and protect. Now. Rane." For the first time, May thought she was making headway.

  "He poi
soned me, I know it."

  May took her sister’s hands. "Think, Lelly—if he’s actually tried to poison you, which I frankly doubt, what will he do next? He won’t back down, you know how he is. There is—and I say this with all the love I have for him in my heart—there is a piece missing from our brother. You know what I'm talking about."

  "You mean like Mother." May knew she was getting her sister’s attention. To mention their mother, that meant there was no more joking. That meant she was deadly serious.

  "I’m afraid he’ll hurt you, maybe even without meaning to."

  Lelet was quiet for a while. "If we are no longer at war, he’ll need a new hobby. What does Father say?"

  "He’s been at the farms so long, I don’t think he really knows how it is with you two." The silkworm farms were the major source of the family’s income and had been for many generations. May rose to her feet, brushing stray mint leaves from her long morning skirts. "Leave Rane to me and to Pol. Just promise me, Lel, I can’t stand the thought of this getting any worse."

  To May’s relief, Lelet nodded and gripped her hands. "I will, May, for you. But what happens when he loses a scarf or breaks a lace?"

  And in fact, that was exactly what happened. But instead of a missing cufflink, it was only two days before Rane discovered his mirror smashed and jagged shards strewn across the floor of his room. Despite Lelet’s nearly hysterical protestations of innocence, no one really believed her.

  May was furious.

  "Why do you lie? Who else would have done this?"

  "I’ve told you a million times! I don’t know! It wasn’t me!" Lelet was nearly as angry at someone else daring to try and injure one of her siblings as she was at being falsely accused.

  May rubbed her forehead so hard it left red marks. "Well, I’ve tried. I give up. Just please do two things for me."

  "May, I would do anything-"

  "Don’t see this spread around town. And Lelet? Watch your back."

  Chapter 41

  "She never loved me!" cried Sir Edward, perched precariously on the windowsill, "And so she had to die! And without my only love, why should I trouble to live in this world either?"

  With that, he looked once more at Gwenyth, who tried so hard to save him, and with tears in his eyes stepped out to meet his fate on the sea-torn crags below.

  -The Claiming of the Duke, pg 155

  Malloy Dos Capeheart, Little Gorda Press (out of print)

  Mistra

  100 years after the War of the Door, Mistran calendar

  20 years later, Eriisai calendar

  va’Everly family residence

  Moth (for he now thought of himself that way) had found the perfect place for himself. It was dry, safe, hidden, and gave him access to the horrible child's family. It was Lelet's balcony. It was a small space with a roof overhead, a sturdy trellis leading to the ground (and the roof, where he contacted Scilla), and it had a row of tall potted bushes cutting it nearly in half. At first, he couldn't understand why she'd diminish her outdoor space, but he quickly discovered the plants served as a cover for evening activities she didn't want observed by the neighbors, or her family. The row of plants made a perfect privacy screen for both of them. And even in full daylight, it was all shadows.

  At the moment it was full of blankets, cast off clothing he'd picked up and found wanting (usually too small), silver he'd taken from the kitchen (he enjoyed having whatever the family ate for dinner), and a scattering of items from Rane and from Lelet herself. He returned the silver every morning, and when this was finally over, he'd give the two back their pins and cuffs and shoes.

  After watching them for nearly three months, he'd gotten to know the family fairly well, and with no excuse not to contact her, learned more than he cared to about Scilla. Sometimes she treated him like a barely civilized convict, like a criminal. Other times, he was her confidant.

  "Wait," she'd said, as he was about to blow his candle out that evening.

  "Well?" he asked.

  "Umm, what did you do today?"

  "What did I do?" he repeated. "What did I do? Well, I spent a while waiting for Lelet and Rane to go off to whatever they do all day, which I'm sure was more entertaining than what I did after that, which was tipping over all of your sister’s pictures and whatnot in her room. As you required. It was another big day for me, and I can't wait until tomorrow when I get to—what was it?—ah! Go into Rane's room and hang his shirts so the hangers are facing the wrong way. Can't wait. But I think the real centerpiece of tomorrow is going to be over-salting the soup. I honestly, really wish you could be here to witness it for yourself."

  "Well, there's no reason to be so mean about it. It can't all be throwing fireballs or whatever you did back on Eriis."

  He looked at her coldly. "What I did on Eriis is not part of this conversation. Are we done?"

  "I just thought you might want to talk about it! Sorr-rry! Contact me again day after tomorrow." She blew out her candle.

  He thought perhaps she was lonely. He knew he was. He had no one to talk to, no one who even knew he existed except the horrible child. Well, her, and one of those angry little dogs. This one sometimes sat on the railing of the balcony and watched him. He named it Mouse and tried tempting it with food from the kitchen. It never let him get close enough to touch it, but when he awoke, or returned from an errand, the food would be gone.

  The worst part of being on his own, he decided, was finding wonders in this world and having no one to share them with.

  One afternoon, while still getting his bearings on the house and its scattered outbuildings, he was almost caught near the stables. He knew the family had two horses living there and very much wanted to visit them, but there were also lots of loud voiced humans in and out, day and night. At least one appeared to live there in the building with the horses. He was watching them come and go when one of the big animals must have noticed he was nearby. It tried to run in the other direction, so the men figured there was some sort of predator in the bushes. As one of them calmed the spooked beast, two others strode with staves and sticks in hand in his direction. As much as he craved contact, he didn't want to find it at the end of a shovel, so he found the shadows under the trees and under the stable's peaked roofline. They wouldn't be able to see him now even if they looked right at him, but the horse wasn't fooled. It still stamped and snorted and refused to be soothed. He slipped around the side of the building, and then through an unlocked glass door. He heard the two with the makeshift weapons go by, agreeing that the horse was startled by the wind, or a squirrel, or its own nose.

  He was in a jungle.

  The little room was made of glass, but so full of greenery that no one could see in. It was small, he could go from one end to the other in four steps, and it was warmed by the sun and the brick wall it was built against. He stood and breathed for a few minutes, the green smell filling his head, feeling his skin relax. The air was full of moisture and fanned by a gentle breeze. He found a metal chain with a big glass pull, and discovered he could lever the upper panes open and closed, and spent some time making it warmer and cooler.

  The plants, though, were in a bad way. They appeared thirsty and neglected, the pots were dusty and the floor was littered with debris. He picked a rake out of the jumble of supplies in the corner and began to clean.

  ***

  As evening fell, Moth watched the family wander back from their daily activities. He listened to them discuss their days. Pol had spent the day arguing with a ship's captain who swore his holds had somehow gotten both smaller and more expensive. May, as she often did, spent her day with her best friend Stelle, poring over lists of eligible First and Second sons. Rane wasn't seen to leave his rooms, but simply materialized at the front gate when dinner was called.

  Lelet had spent the morning praying for a quick death, and the afternoon having only small, sensible cocktails. Clearly, she had a plan for later that night that required a clear head.

  Moth slipped
from shadow to shadow and watched all of them with great interest. He had grown particularly fond of May, who had the nicest voice. He was more cautious around Rane, who out of all of them seemed most likely to see him standing nearby. The horrible child had told him to focus his attention on her pink haired sister, and he had done so. He didn't enjoy that his actions were making Lelet nervous and testy, drinking more, smoking more, and sleeping less, but he had no choice. He hoped before he went home he might apologize to her, or simply explain.

  Scilla had called Lelet a vain, shallow, profligate (he liked that word), and this evening he was to steal something she loved. He knew her possessions fairly well by now and he had his eye on her hairbrush. It was silver and had the form of the body of a human woman. He felt like she'd miss it and he'd be a step closer to his freedom.

  By the end of dinner, everyone was in a tense mood. He had whispered to the cook that the soup needed a great deal more salt; surely you have more than that? And recommended to the maid that she might try setting the knives where the forks normally went. Spoons? No one uses spoons anymore.

  He knew the household staff almost as well as the family, and he knew where all the shadows in the kitchen fell.

  "Oh, and Rane?" said Lelet. "I can't believe I even have to say this, seeing as how neither of us are seven, but please do stay out of my room."

  Rane barely looked up from his soup, which for once had enough salt in it. "Why would I go in there? It smells like the Gorda at low tide."

  She was instantly furious. "You knocked all my pictures over! Every one of them is on its back!"

  He opened his mouth—it was almost too easy—but stopped when he saw twin murder in the eyes of his older siblings.

  "Just one. One peaceful dinner after a day of actually working," said Pol.

  Lelet saw her opportunity and threw down her napkin. "You always take his side—both of you! I'm going up." She stomped up the stairs for all she was worth. Moth lingered at the doorway, watching the rest of them. He wanted to follow her, but thought he'd wait until they wrapped things up down here.