by M. Gregg Roe
He decided it was time to reveal another secret. “There is something I need to tell you about Zyrahi.”
Kora shook her head in exasperation. “How many more secrets are you keeping?”
“This is the last one,” he promised, hoping that was true. Because of her many questions, the explanation took a while. Kora was intelligent, and she knew what Aliva was, but that was the extent of her knowledge of demons.
“And you’re sure that she’s not just going to decide to kill your father one of these days?” she asked worriedly.
“Fairly certain,” he replied, and she laughed.
The walk to the castle was invigorating, and the meeting nowhere near as bad as he had feared. People like himself—with combat experience and not part of the local guard force—were ideal to act as judges. The journey back took longer, but only because he took a wrong turn. The house was in an area he wasn’t very familiar with.
No sooner had he hung up his cloak and seated himself next to Kora, when she said, “I think we should buy this place when Grasapa and her husband move to Wineton.”
“And when will that be?” he returned.
“In about five years. I don’t see her often, but we exchange letters at least once a month.”
“Why should we buy it?” he asked, baffled. Their jobs tied them both to the Witch’s City for the foreseeable future.
“Several reasons,” she said, then counted them off. “The way Rohoville is growing, I think it’s an excellent investment. We can buy it and then rent it out. Eventually, if the value increases, we might decide to sell it. Or maybe when we’re older and ready to stop working, we will move here. It really is a lovely spot.”
Gabriel couldn’t disagree. It would be a nice place to retire to in their old age. But what thrilled him was the certainty that Kora really was the one he wanted to grow old with.
[ 34 ]
The Festival
The three knocks sounded as she was brushing her hair. Stanley had departed for work long ago, and Romee was now waiting impatiently for Aliva to escort her to the plaza where she would join the other competitors. That meant standing out in the early morning cold while listening to the opening speech, but there really wasn’t any choice.
Aliva listened as Romee answered the door, and the soft voice of the visitor startled her. “Good morning,” Kora said moments later, peering in through the bedroom doorway as Romee stood behind her glaring. “Gabriel is judging competitions most of today, so—”
“Mine?” Romee interrupted, suddenly all smiles. “I’m competing in shortsword.”
Kora looked back at Romee. “He’s only judging events where they use large swords.”
“Oh,” Romee said, then turned her attention back to Aliva. “We need to go,” she hissed with a peeved look.
Aliva got up from her dressing table. “I’m ready. Check the back door, then meet us at the front.” Romee darted out of sight.
Minutes later, the three of them were standing out front. It hadn’t snowed overnight, but it was certainly snowing now. “Winter has definitely arrived,” Aliva said to Kora as they followed Romee, who was stalking rapidly through the wet snow. “I’m sorry we were unable to attend your party.”
Kora adjusted the hood of her cloak. “It’s fine. We knew you would be busy with the festival.”
“Romee!” Aliva yelled, and the girl slammed to a stop and looked back anxiously. “Just go on ahead,” Aliva told her. After flashing a grateful smile, Romee launched herself forward into the swirling snow.
“How is it taking care of her?” Kora asked.
“Challenging at times. She has a boyfriend, but he’s incredibly shy.”
When they crested the hill, the castle was barely visible in the distance and there were few people in sight. Many had probably decided to skip the opening ceremony, not that she blamed them. Even in good weather, it meant listening to one of Danj’s rambling and incoherent speeches.
“We’re staying at Grasapa’s house,” Kora said suddenly. “Audrey took us there.” That was apparently the woman’s way of revealing that she now knew Audrey’s big secret.
“I heard it didn’t snow at all during last year’s festival,” Kora said when they reached the edge of the stone plaza that covered most of the flat hilltop, not that much of the stone was visible.
“No, it didn’t. It was unseasonably warm.” Not to mention sunny. “But it snowed two years ago. Although not like this.”
They had no trouble finding a place to stand to observe the opening ceremony. Off to their right, the competitors stood in orderly ranks, forming a large rectangle. There looked to be at least two hundred, and they were of a variety of races, including dwarves and goblins. Ahead of them, barely visible, stood the oversize statue of Roho atop its large base. Next to it was a wooden platform already occupied by King Danj and Queen Sabrina, both wearing blue cloaks with the hoods up.
Danj’s deep voice carried remarkably well as he began his speech, welcoming everyone to the sixth annual Rohoville Festival. (Had it really been that long since the first one?) Predictably, the subject wandered around a bit and included multiple exhortations to “be good.” But what would you expect from someone who called himself “Good King Danj the Good?” Aliva had heard it all before, but Kora listened attentively.
“Now what?” Aliva asked Kora when the speech ended. The competitors were already headed toward the school building, as were many others. The first event wasn’t scheduled until mid-morning, but there was always a shortage of seats.
“When does Romee compete?”
“Just before noon.” Aliva shook her black cloak to remove some sticking snow. “We could go shopping.” Some merchants had large tents heated by alchemy or smokeless braziers.
“Okay,” Kora said, nodding. “Lead the way.”
Kora stayed close by Aliva’s side as they headed east. The snow showed no sign of letting up, filling the air with huge wet flakes. But it should make for less crowded shopping.
Outside a large tent, Aliva again tried to shake her cloak clean before leading the way inside. (Kora’s powder blue cloak barely looked wet.) The interior was lit by glow-cubes hanging from above, but wasn’t heated at all. All the wares on display were ceramic, including both practical items and works of art. Kora pushed back her hood and headed straight toward a display of elegantly painted dishes. Aliva went to look at some large urns painted with elaborate and colorful designs. They were overpriced, in her opinion, but that was typical at the festival.
After browsing a shop selling furniture made in Zardis, they moved on to a heated tent full of men’s clothing. There, Kora purchased some items for Gabriel, paying extra to have them shipped to her home in the Witch’s City. Aliva spent her time scrutinizing the clothing designs for ideas. She made most of Stanley’s clothes now.
And then it was time to head to Danj’s School of Fighting to watch Romee compete.
Romee’s second bout ended badly, with the girl flat on her back and the point of her opponent’s sword at her throat. Deceived by a simple feint, she had left herself vulnerable. Romee waved her left arm in surrender and allowed the other girl to help her to her feet, but Aliva could see the disappointment etched on her young face. Romee trudged away with her shoulders slumped as the tall, raven-haired half-elf was declared the winner, then bowed to the appreciative audience.
Aliva struggled through the crowd to reach where Romee was heading. The school’s courtyard was large, but not when filled with so much temporary seating. There was talk of eventually building a permanent fighting arena, which would certainly help.
It hadn’t been hard to persuade Kora to stay behind in the market area and then meet them later by the sign that marked the food vending area. The sky remained resolutely gray as snow continued to accumulate.
Lars raised a hand in greeting as Aliva neared where he was standing, thankfully under an overhang. He had won both of his broadsword bouts that morning, which meant that he would
be competing again in the afternoon. (The boy apparently had some talent.) Aliva joined him and pulled down her hood.
“Romee should have taken her medicine,” he said in a low voice. “She got distracted.”
He was right. Romee had stopped taking it two days ago, claiming it slowed her reflexes. But even if that were true, focus was more important for a warrior.
“We’ll talk to her about it,” Aliva told him. “But not for a while.”
Lars nodded sadly, and they continued waiting in silence.
“Aliva,” Gabriel called out as he approached from Aliva’s right. Wearing a cloak that matched Kora’s, he looked as dashing as ever. “I saw Romee’s second fight and wanted to speak with her.”
“This is one of Romee’s fellow students,” Aliva said, noticing the boy’s puzzled look. “Lars, this is my friend, Gabriel. He’s a lieutenant with the Witch’s City Guard.”
With his eyes wide and a look of awe, the boy stammered a greeting. “It is nice to meet you,” Gabriel returned. “All afternoon competitions are postponed until tomorrow,” he continued, now addressing both of them. “There have been several injuries caused by falls, and people are having difficulty finding their way around the city.”
The postponement was undoubtedly Sabrina’s doing, and it certainly made sense. The city’s park-like layout confused visitors even when the weather was nice. She told Gabriel where he could find Kora, and he promptly departed.
“Romee’s told me about him,” Lars said, his eyes still on Gabriel’s back. “She said that he’s really skilled.”
“His parents are too,” Aliva told him, then spotted Romee emerging from the woman’s changing area. She pointed that way, and Lars headed over with an anxious look.
Aliva gazed out at the snow as she waited for the two to talk, wondering what conditions were like at the ferry landings. Unlike smaller lizards, the giant ones that powered the ferry didn’t seem to mind cold weather. They were also herbivores, using their claws primarily for traction or digging.
Lars walked away with a dazed look, a sign that Romee had given him a kiss. Aliva gave her a gentle hug before saying, “That girl who beat you was very skilled.”
Romee compressed her lips tightly as she shook her head. “I know I messed up. I’m glad we weren’t fighting for real.”
“You’ll improve and do better next year,” Aliva assured her. “Do you want to go get something to eat?”
“Can we just go home?” Romee begged. “I’m tired.”
Hearing Romee refer to their house that way gave Aliva a warm feeling. They ended up compromising, buying a good-sized crock of vegetable stew and a loaf of fresh-baked bread from the vendors to take home with them.
By the time they reached the house, they had helped several bewildered visitors, advising them to return to their lodgings and giving directions if necessary. The accumulation was approaching ten inches, and wet snow was still falling steadily. The only mercy was that it wasn’t windy.
Romee went to lie down after lunch, but Aliva didn’t have that luxury. She needed to go back out and do what she could to help the overworked city guards. That included looking for undesirables, because the festival also attracted its share of pickpockets, thieves, and con-artists. She changed clothes and strapped on her sword belt. Brandishing the glowing red blade of her enchanted saber was often enough to persuade people to surrender. After donning her dark blue rain cloak over a thick wool sweater, Aliva went outside, cast the proper spell, and launched herself into the sky.
In response to the woman’s gesture, Aliva flew over and landed on the castle roof. Aliva gave the two nearby guards a friendly wave as she walked up. Sabrina motioned at the guards, and they obediently retreated to the opposite side of the roof.
“Still searching for evildoers?” Sabrina asked, mirth showing in her gray eyes.
“I always am,” Aliva answered, then turned and looked out at the plaza. The second day of the festival had gone relatively smoothly, with warmer temperatures and only light flurries. It was even warmer today, which was aiding in the teardown.
“We had surprisingly few complaints,” Sabrina remarked. “Next year I will invite Birchbark to come here in advance.”
That brought a smile to Aliva’s lips. As a skilled druid, Birchbark could have provided forewarning and maybe even lessened the storm’s intensity.
Sabrina joined Aliva in staring out. “This is the time of the year I really miss Kaldir,” she said wistfully. That was the woman’s home continent, and it had a much more temperate climate. The only snow there was in the high mountains.
“I prefer it here,” Aliva told her. “The seasons are all so different.”
“I would enjoy it more if Bjarni and his family were here. I’ve only seen my grandson once.”
Bjarni was the woman’s oldest son. He had fallen in love with a woman from Kaldir and married her, and it was looking more and more like they would stay. “You and Danj could always move there,” Aliva suggested half-jokingly.
Sabrina’s expression was serious as she turned to face Aliva. “Danj and I have discussed it. We will eventually move there, but it won’t be soon.” She smirked slightly. “You realize who that will leave in charge of Rohoville.”
“Queen Siljan.” Aliva really didn’t like the sound of that. “She would just sit around and let the bureaucrats run everything.”
“Unfortunately, bureaucrats require monitoring. Otherwise they embezzle money and write laws purely for their own benefit. At the moment, the threat of receiving daily lectures from my husband is enough to keep them in line,” Sabrina concluded with a sly look.
Aliva knew it wasn’t entirely a joke. Danj enjoyed lecturing “not good” people, as he always called them. He seemed to believe that no one was beyond redemption. (That was both naïve and kind of sweet.) The rumor was that he had actually driven one prisoner held beneath the castle to commit suicide.
“Is Siljan here?” She usually attended on behalf of her temple. It was more about selling the temple’s grape wine than gaining converts.
Sabrina shook her head no. “She sent a letter. There’s some type of conflict developing amongst several forest villages in that area.”
It made Aliva realize just how long it had been since she had visited Wineton. Maybe the three of them could take a trip there in the Spring.
“And how are things going with Romee?” Sabrina asked.
“She’s still bemoaning her poor performance.” Just before Aliva had departed the house, Romee had decided that she was going to sell her shortsword and focus solely on saber. They would need to talk her out of part of that. That sword had been a gift from her adoptive father.
“But otherwise it’s going well?” Sabrina asked archly.
“Yes.” Aliva shrugged. “It feels like she’s part of our family.” She mentioned their plan to continue fostering children after Romee left.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Sabrina told her, smiling gently. “All too often people only agree to foster a child if money is involved. That seldom ends well. It’s not a huge problem at the moment, but the city is growing rapidly.”
If the Queen thought it was a good idea, then that was good enough for Aliva.
She and Stanley discussed it that evening. Once Romee either returned home or moved out on her own, they would notify all three temples of their availability as foster parents. That would allow them to help many children. And if circumstances allowed, they might even adopt one or two.
[ 35 ]
His Redemption
Alchemy school was in session, with three students and no instructor. Birchbark was the third, and Ferikellan found the man’s participation gratifying. As had become customary, he and Rosalind had come over for dinner before they began their discussion. Even Fern seemed interested, often listening to the three of them while working on her knitting.
Audrey had offered to seek an alchemist to teach them, but he persuaded her that it was a lost caus
e. Professional alchemists guarded their secrets jealously, passing on key knowledge only to trusted apprentices, or perhaps bartering with their peers. Between the books that Rosalind had found and their collective experience, he was confident that they were up to the task.
Alchemy Through the Ages was the first book they read, and it didn’t take all that long. Intended for the general public, it had informative drawings and included a history of the subject that Ferikellan found fascinating. But it was disconcerting just how many researchers in the field had died young, often as a result of their own experiments. Alchemy really was amongst the most dangerous of occupations.
The second book was crudely bound, sloppily written, and had no title page or index. It described the proper way to store and prepare a variety of substances, including platinum. Employing the steel mortar and pestle that Audrey had procured, he and Rosalind had created a true platinum powder. The resultant material was a dark gray, and so fine they had to keep the windows shuttered and be careful not to breathe on the particles, lest they take to the air like dust.
Birchbark handed the glass vial of the powder to his wife. “That looks excellent,” he commented. “Was grinding it hard work?”
“Vurk complained the entire time,” Rosalind deadpanned, and they all laughed.
Fern held up the vial. “Did you try using it?” she asked before handing it over.
“We did,” Ferikellan replied as he carefully stowed it in his belt pouch. “Following Oljot’s original instructions, we crafted Gray Potions for each of us. We will test them tomorrow.”
“There’s a problem,” Rosalind said. “Not all the platinum powder could be recovered by filtering afterward. Ingesting the powder probably isn’t as bad as breathing it in, but I’m still concerned.”
“You should be,” Birchbark said, furrowing his brow. “I don’t know about platinum, but some types of metal are definitely toxic. Arsenic, for example.”