A Thorne in Time

by Lorel Clayton

  Why did matriarchs need to know how to cook and sew? Didn’t they have servants? I was beginning to suspect sexism was rampant among all races—women might rule in the dwarf lands, but they had to do everything else too.

  I finally spotted an interesting section on history. Marginally interesting. But when the options were broiled blind-cow recipes versus the geopolitical origins of the Three Kingdoms, there was no point being choosy.

  I went around a corner and ran into the half-Solhan girl I’d seen at the gate. I jumped, startled, as she’d been hiding. She put a finger to her lips, and said, “Someone’s here.”

  I looked around frantically for an attacker. Morgan had trained me from a young age to be paranoid of kidnappers, brigands and other potential nasties in my environment. Of course, he hadn’t planned for me to spend all day hanging out with thieves, like Duane, but I found they were easier to watch when you knew where to find them, and in Duane’s case, much nicer to watch than other things.

  Now, I wouldn’t see him for months, not until I went home for break—if I could show my face to him again. I felt so humiliated. I had thought about ‘the kiss’ the whole coach ride over and realized I’d gone about it all wrong. My first half day of lessons had confirmed: I should have dressed up, baked some cookies...that was ridiculous too. I had no idea what I should have done, but I knew it hadn’t been the best way, and now I’d blown it. I’d have to pretend it never happened.

  Duane had me daydreaming again, even when he wasn’t here. I shook off the fogginess and told the girl, “I don’t see anyone. The library is deserted except for you and me.”

  “Good.” She stayed crouched behind the stacks, shaking, with tears welling up in her eyes. I sat next to her and patted her on the shoulder.

  “It’s ok. What’s really wrong?”

  Hazel was different from any elf I’d met, or Solhan for that matter. An odd combination of the two. Usually, I couldn’t stand elves, as all they did was complain, ridicule everyone and smell. Really bad. They didn’t believe in bathing. They thought so highly of themselves they were convinced their natural odor smelled good. Their offal too. She had inherited the Solhan desire to be clean at least, but she lacked the killer fight over flight instinct of my race. Nanny or Morgan would have given her a lecture to really make her tremble, but I wasn’t them. I tried to be patient and wait.

  “Everyone hates me,” she said.

  “I don’t.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Then tell me more. I swear, unless you like to torture and reanimate house mice like my sister, I won’t find anything to hate.”

  “I’m not a pure elf. I’m...Solhan.”

  She meant to shock me, but I’d already figured that one out. I said as much then added, “Me too.”

  “What? No. Your hair, your eyes...?”

  “All a disguise. I know how it feels to be judged on sight. I also know lots of old Solhan stories Nanny shared, how sometimes Solhans see what no one else can. You’re not crazy. Believe your eyes. And if there are any daemons or dark spirits lurking about, tell me where to go to steer clear.” I smiled.

  She nodded and wiped the tears from her face.

  “Enough talk about the curses of being Solhan,” I said. “I wanted to know more about you, not your ancestry. What do you like to do?”

  “Read.”

  “Me too. What else?”

  “I like embroidery class.”

  “You’re losing me there. I cannot be friends with anyone who likes embroidery.”

  Her eyes started to tear up again, and I realized she was one of those poor souls with no sense of humor and probably no appreciation for sarcasm either. I’d have to be gentle with her.

  “Only teasing. I want to be your friend anyway. What kind of books do you like?”

  She grew visibly more comfortable as she talked about her favorite stories. I was aware I was late for whatever class I had next, and it didn’t bother me, but she suddenly stopped mid-sentence. “I’m missing embroidery!” She grabbed her books and headed for the door.

  “See you around,” I called after.

  She stopped and smiled shyly before she left.

  I felt better, having met someone tolerable to discuss books with. I had forgotten to tell her to keep my secret, though, and I felt a moment of panic. Madam Hale obviously knew, as well as Gypsum, who had read my file, but it would be nice not to tell anyone else I was Solhan. Of course, Juliette would blab to all and sundry. Maybe there was no hope for it.

  I sighed and decided to find out which class I was missing. I could always plead first day ignorance. On the way out, I was blocked by a teacher with ochre eyes. Not as interesting eyes as most dwarf females, which made their dullness noteworthy. Her gaze bore into the book I carried.

  “Did you check that out, young lady?”

  I couldn’t even remember which one I’d grabbed and read the spine, A History of Weaving in the Dwarvish Highlands, and shuddered. “No.” I placed it on the nearest shelf.

  She appraised me like a slave buyer assessing the wares, noticing the bad dye job and looking at my eyes a lot. I had faith in the charm that made them blue. Nanny had refused to craft one for me, calling it deceitful and elvish, which I kind of agreed with, but I also hated being instantly marked for a Solhan everywhere I went. So, I’d saved up my allowance, a year’s worth, and bought it. The charm was stitched into a kerchief I carried. Duane had offered to steal me one, but it was best not to anger those who dealt in magic. I knew it was a good quality one, and the teacher couldn’t see through it.

  Finally, her assessment of my limited worth complete, she said, “I’d stay away from that girl. Solhan madness is catching.”

  “No, it’s not,” I shot back.

  From her frown, I realized I’d forgotten the first rule of finishing school: don’t speak unless spoken to. Actually, just don’t speak.

  “You’re too young to have a free period, one of the new crop just arrived I wager,” her tone carefully building to something I sensed I would not like, “What’s your name?”

  “Karolyne,” I lied. I hoped this wouldn’t be a permanent blot on Karo’s record; she’d hate that, but I couldn’t stop myself. I badly wanted to wriggle out of the dwarf’s stare. I sensed she was hunting for the new Solhan to harass. Why else was she studying my disguise so intently? Pretending to be Karo didn’t make any difference, though.

  “You have detention. Come this way.”

  I followed, head down. Who got detention for skipping class to go to the library? This was the worst place in the world Uncle could have sent me, and now I knew why he’d done it. He was torturing me like Ilsa tortured mice, only he didn’t care enough to come watch. Simply knowing I was in misery must be enough for him.

  The teacher brought me to a full classroom and presented me to a younger dwarf woman I hadn’t met before. “Miss Halcyon, this human is truant from her class this period. I will leave her with you. As Schedule Mistress, you can sort out where she should be. Make sure you also schedule in detention with me at the end of the day.”

  “Yes, Madam Jaspar, as you wish. However, I do have a class now, as you can see.”

  “Put this one into the queue with the others. I’m sure one more to check for posture won’t be too taxing on a young and energetic instructor such as yourself,” the ochre-eyed Madam Jaspar said, before departing.

  When she was gone, Miss Halcyon and I both scowled at her retreating back.

  “It’s Lady Halcyon, not Miss, by the way,” she told me.

  “What class does Madam Jaspar teach that’s so important?”

  “It’s her seniority that makes her important. Come along now, Miss...?”

  “Thorne.” No reason to get Karo into trouble now. I’d have double detention when I admitted the lie to Madam Jaspar later. I was already having double deportment lessons. Wonderful.

  3 | TROUBLE

  ~

  GYPSUM DIDN’T FIND ME UNTIL the e
nd of the day, when I was lounging on my bed studying the detention note Miss Halcyon had given me. The tower office. Where was that? When I asked Gypsum, Karolyne took the note and read it aloud. They both looked disappointed to hear I’d gotten myself into trouble.

  “Going to the library.” I rolled my eyes, emphasizing the absurdity of it all, but it wasn’t penetrating their disapproving expressions.

  “You’ll be in worse trouble if you stay here,” Karolyne said. “It doesn’t help anyone, me included, for you to be on the teachers’ radar. Keep your head down next time.” She sounded like Morgan.

  “I’ll show you the way.” Gypsum stood by the door, and I knew I was being forced to do the right thing. Follow the rules, anyway, which I didn’t always think was the right thing.

  “Fine.” I stuck my tongue out at Karo before I followed the muddy-colored dwarf.

  She led me a winding path, down and then up the stairs, and I’d never find my way back. I wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. I could hide until the semester was over.

  “Madam Jaspar’s office.” Gypsum indicated the door in front of us. She shook her head. “She’s one step below the Headmistress and not an enemy you want to have. Do everything she asks, and be polite about it, and you may be okay.”

  “What will I have to do?” My imagination had assumed detention meant I’d be put in the stocks or something. I hadn’t expected to do anything.

  “Grade papers, sharpen charcoals, that sort of thing. She teaches geography but is a cartographer in her own time, a brilliant artist who has captured the tiniest bends in the Serpent’s Ribbon. Her work is referred to by the Crowns themselves. You’d do well to learn anything you can from her.”

  “I’m not good at drawing.”

  “What are you good at?”

  “Not much of anything. Although...Morgan says I have a knack for swordplay.”

  “I’ll try to get you into fencing then. I’ll try, so be nice here—and everywhere. Madam Jaspar knows far-seeing magic; it’s what lends her work such accuracy. She can see what you’re up to no matter where you are.”

  “A fiendish skill for a teacher to have. Can she hear me too?”

  “I’m not sure.” Gypsum suddenly looking a bit panicked herself. So, she wasn’t always Miss Perfect.

  “Let’s hope not, or she really won’t like me much, because I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut.” I steeled myself and knocked.

  Gypsum darted off, afraid to be spotted with me when the door opened. Only it didn’t open. I knocked a couple more times, but there was no reply. I leaned against the doorjamb then, a terrible example of deportment I knew, and waited.

  I had to shift positions a few times to stay comfortable, and I didn’t know how much time passed, but it was a while, before I finally gave up. If Madam Jaspar had forgotten about my detention, I wasn’t going to remind her. In fact, I’d call all this waiting around time served. I nodded to myself, firmly convinced by that argument, and headed back to my room. Karo was already asleep, so I climbed into my bed and let her snores lull me to sleep too. Nanny’s snores were far worse, shaking the whole house, so I didn’t mind.

  I did mind, however, being awoken in the middle of the night. I’d been having a wonderful dream, only I couldn’t remember what it was. There had been a waft of cinnamon, like something yummy cooking. I loved that smell. Nanny had never cooked anything edible in my life. Perhaps my mother had baked? I liked to think that was where the memory came from.

  I couldn’t figure out what had disturbed me. Karo was still snoring away, the room dark and quiet. Solhan eyes saw well in the dark. Nothing there. I shifted, and something clattered to the ground. I jumped to my feet, ready to fight. Then I noticed a necklace lying on the ground. It must have fallen off my bedclothes. That gave me a chill, thinking someone had crept in and placed it there.

  I examined the deep green jewel in a silver setting. The setting resembled a gear from a clock or other contraption I usually paid little attention to. The chain was silver as well, which was odd to me for some reason, but then I remembered that dwarves never wore silver. The mines of their kingdom produced gold and precious gems beyond imagining, but no silver, and so it was traditional to avoid the metal to avoid ill luck. It must belong to one of the other students.

  I immediately thought of Juliette. Was she clumsily trying to curse me? If so I should tell her it was only a dwarf thing.

  In the morning, I’d tell her.

  I was tired.

  I opened my trunk to place the necklace inside and was captivated for a moment by the deep green stone. I couldn’t figure out what it was, for it wasn’t jade. It had an inner glow that, for some reason, made me think of my cinnamon dream. I’d seen plenty of precious gems cross my uncle’s desk, so this one must be worthless, if pretty. I laid it gently inside and then laid my head back on the pillow. I fell asleep in an instant.

  The next day, I decided to do some investigating to see who had been sneaking around in my room. Karo was my first point of call.

  “I didn’t hear a thing. I also haven’t been here long enough to make enemies, so it must be your enemy. You make them quickly.”

  I smirked. “I figured that.”

  My first class was cooking. I was to make my own breakfast. Not a good idea. My porridge burned and stuck to the bottom of the pan in minutes, probably because instead of stirring it, I was listening to the whispers carrying across the classroom like an excited breeze through a forest of saplings.

  “What is it?” I asked the dwarf girl nearest me. I was the only human in the class, so I’d been excluded from the gossip and hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying.

  The dwarf had yellowish skin and topaz eyes, the overall effect being the appearance of extreme jaundice. She eyed me warily, like I was dangerous. “Someone attacked Madam Jaspar last night.”

  “Really?” That explained why she hadn’t met me for detention. I didn’t say that part out loud. “Do you know when it happened?”

  “Aren’t you going to ask if she’s all right?”

  “Of course I was. Is she?”

  “She’s in the infirmary.”

  I nodded and went back to scraping my porridge pan, calmly trying to dislodge the burnt chunks, while my thoughts churned.

  Had a thief been prowling the grounds last night? I shivered, thinking he might have been in my room and inadvertently left some of his treasure behind. But that didn’t explain whose necklace it was, nor why Madam Jaspar of all people had been attacked. Maybe she’d seen the thief? This wasn’t Highcrowne, else I’d worry it was someone I knew. I was curious to learn who the culprit was. No dwarf would steal what they saw as a cursed necklace. Unless they only spotted its nature later and tossed it on my bed on their way out? There was a window at the end of the hall near my room.

  As soon as class was over, I darted out, but I ran into Lady Halcyon going the other way.

  “Slow down,” she ordered. “No running in the halls. Wait. Eva, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You had detention scheduled with Madam Jaspar last night.”

  “She didn’t show, I swear.” I knew I sounded guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. “I waited and waited....”

  “Child, you should know the Madam was attacked.” She paused, as though expecting it to be news to me, so I went along.

  “No! By who? How?”

  “By whom. We do not know any particulars, for she is still resting. The faculty is asking all the girls to be wary and report any strangers sighted on the grounds.”

  “Yes, Miss…Lady Halcyon.” I curtsied, poorly, as I hadn’t had that class yet, but I was dismissed and able to continue on my way. I headed for the infirmary.

  The nurse wasn’t in sight, and there was only one patient in the beds, so I went straight to Madam Jaspar’s side. She was asleep. I noted the scratches on her face and arms. Whoever she’d fought must have been part feral cat.

  There was a large bandage
around her abdomen, and I lifted the corner, trying to peek inside. A hand slapped down on mine, and I jumped back with a start.

  Madam Jaspar’s dull, ochre eyes were open and glaring at me.

  “I was only curious,” I said. “Are you alright? What happened?”

  She tried to speak but nothing came out. I handed her a glass of water from the bedside table, and she wetted her lips. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your detention.”

  “Shouldn’t we all focus on finding your attacker? What if he strikes again?”

  “There is little chance of that.”

  “What makes you so certain?” I began, feeling a torrent of unanswered questions ready to pour out of my mouth, but the nurse returned.

  “Get away now. Your Solhan filth could infect the wound.” The nurse shooed me.

  She must have read my file. No escaping records and paperwork, despite what enchantments I wore or what color my hair.

  People believed Solhans were plague carriers. With some justification, but the plague that affected humans affected us as well. Dwarves were immune, though, so they had nothing to worry about.

  I backed away. “How was she wounded?”

  “She was stabbed,” the nurse said accusingly. “Go and fetch one of the teachers.

  I nodded and took one last look at Madam Jaspar. That look chilled me. She’d heard me called a Solhan, and now she knew too. Her expression was a mixture of disgust and fury. I wasn’t welcome here, so I darted out and found Madam Hale. She grabbed others and hurried to the infirmary, while I returned to my room and sat glumly on the edge of my bed.

  I don’t know how many classes I missed that morning. I was dazed, and time passed strangely. It had been a mistake to come here. Gernwold had more Solhan-haters than Highcrowne. They wouldn’t take in human refugees, so they probably didn’t enjoy people like Karo around either. What had Uncle been thinking? He should have left me alone, where I was happy.