by Amy Keeley
“Daegan?” she said. “You should have told me. You’re paying me to straighten up, aren’t you?”
“Not dishes. Check the list.” Turning away from the finished job, he gestured for her to follow him as he went into the display room, the curtains drawn. His arm sweeping over the table with the locks, he said, “So. How much do you know about these?”
For the next several minutes, minutes Krysilla had never thought would happen, Daegan Jixsin the locksmith talked about the principles of his trade with Krysilla Gillasin, the baker’s wife. It wasn’t until she felt the spell around Zhiv’s room suddenly expand that she turned away to rush up the stairs. Daegan grabbed her arm. “Don’t. It happens even without a fever.”
“Why does he have it there? What happens when it does that?”
Daegan’s smile was sad. “You’ll have to ask him that. All I can tell you is that he’s had it in place ever since he was hired by the King.” Daegan looked up the stairs, then yawned.
Exhaustion swept over Krysilla as well. “If only we had a clock here.”
“We do.” And from his pocket, Daegan pulled out a small device that opened with a click. On the small clock face, she could see it was nearly morning. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Unless you need anything?”
And because he’d been such a different person than the one she’d met, Krysilla said, “Thank you. For letting me stay here and Tira, and for helping me.”
A smile tugged on one corner of his mouth. “It’s nothing. Tell Zhiv,” he began to climb the stairs, “that I’ll give him the gold I owe him after the Queen’s announcement.”
“How did you become in debt to him?” she grinned.
“I told him you would betray us, and he bet you wouldn’t.”
She froze. “Really?”
“He also said you would be perfect because your goals were simple. You didn’t want power, and you had no interest in fame. All you wanted was to live your life how you saw fit, same as us.” He turned and, for once, smiled at her. “He said anyone like that could be trusted.”
She couldn’t say anything. All she managed was a brief, embarrassed smile in return. It must have been enough. He continued on to bed.
Krysilla stood at the foot of the stairs and tried to think, the events of the day a tangle she could barely sort. Deciding she was too tired to think, she too went upstairs to sleep. She hesitated by the door to her room, then remembered that children had a tendency to be full of energy if they woke. That left only one option. Quietly as she could, she entered Zhiv’s room and shut the door behind her. She sat down in the chair Daegan had provided earlier and wrapped up in the blanket. Feeling there should be something tucked into her sash, her eyes flew open.
The dagger. Zhiv’s magic was still in it, and the Dogs were likely prowling the grounds right now. They might already have it in hand. Which means, she decided, there’s nothing to be done. She hated it, but unless she wanted sneak back inside, they’d just have to deal with it in the morning.
It didn’t stop her from trying to think through the consequences. However, in spite of the thoughts whirling through her head, she somehow managed to fall asleep.
***
Krysilla woke to the sound of someone turning in a bed. Looking up, she felt a small bit of panic. This wasn’t her room. And then she saw Zhiv, and remembered.
He had just begun to wake up, as groggy as if he hadn’t slept in several months. Running his fingers through his hair, he blinked hard, then looked at her and smirked. “You look like a person with many questions.”
“Surprised?”
He shook his head. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. The clock tower hasn’t rung. I think it’s broken.”
She had hoped he would laugh. All he did was look amused. “They should get someone to fix it.”
He’s still exhausted, she realized when he tried to stand. If they had to run, she didn’t think he’d get very far. “Any questions can wait.”
“Even my prediction?” he said, grabbing his boots from the corner.
“I’d rather wait to see if you’re able to walk.”
He looked at her sharply. “I was fine the morning after you found me.” He sounded insulted.
But this wasn’t as bad as then. He’d recovered very quickly compared to now. “Was that Ornic magic you used?” she asked.
“Pfft. There’s no difference. It’s the same source. It’s a matter of training, something I wasn’t given, outside of my trade. My fathers renounced much of the magic I might have learned and if you don’t grow up with it, it’s difficult to keep from overdoing it.”
She nodded her head. “So, if I begin learning Hon Jixsin’s trade and do too much—”
“It may happen to you, yes. Unlikely, but possible. Most trades don’t have that risk, especially in the beginning. It’s only when you start casting like a noble that the danger shows up. It’s already happened to Daegan once or twice already. He tends to be more patient than me.” Zhiv flashed her a bitter smile, then tugged on his boots. “ I imagine, with your patience, you’ll avoid most of it, too.” He looked out the window. “Has Tira’s mother shown up?”
“Nitty? She didn’t show last night. I’m wondering if she’s forgotten about her.”
“Possible. Or she might be considering which is worse, a life with or without her.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“It’s a terrible thing to think, goodwife.” And then he brightened. “You’ll be getting your divorce today if things go well. That’s something.”
She didn’t want to admit that she hoped Nitty didn’t show, that she could run away with Tira and keep her as her own. And with a divorce, maybe she could find someone else and they could form a family and a house she could putter around in.
Zhiv finished putting on his boots and leaned forward, hands pressing into the bed on either side of him. He closed his eyes. “It was Ornic technique,” he finally said. “One of the lower levels. The higher levels are nearly indecipherable. We’d need to have a primer or someone who’s already cast them to teach us.”
She thought of the books Hyaji had...and how she had betrayed him. There was no way to get them now outside of stealing them. And that thought turned her stomach. “What are your plans?”
“I thought we’d agreed I’d make it up as we went along,” he tried to grin, and almost succeeded. “We get through the morning. Probably best to take Tira home and try to reason with your sister. If the Queen manages to hold onto her position without a noble trying to take her place, we can continue here for several months with you as housekeeper and Tira as a constant visitor. You’ll come with me—Tira, too, if her mother agrees—to my snowy wonderland where I’ll introduce you to everyone as my long-lost cousin whom I never thought I’d find. It’s where the truly secret magic occurs. Daegan will take leave the shop for Two Days and, if the passes haven’t snowed over too badly, will join us in our debauchery.” He winked and, for the first time, Krysilla smiled at the gesture.
So, the mountains. That was where he practiced.
“If not,” he grew serious. “Then we’ll have to think on our feet and leave everything behind that will slow us down. Even those we love who don’t love us back.”
She knew what he meant. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Then do what you can and keep your oath. No matter what the Dogs may do.”
“You have my word.”
“Of course.” He stood. For a long moment he gazed at her. “I meant what I said. I still intend to find a way to get that spell off you.”
“He’s not going to come back for me.”
Zhiv stared at the floor. “Do you know why I went to work for the King, goodwife?”
“Because you wanted the best food in the country?”
He chuckled. “I was going to kill him.”
Krysilla should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. He’d ki
lled Zhiv’s family. Of course he would want revenge. She waited for him to continue.
“I was sixteen and more arrogant and impatient than I am now, if you’re willing to believe that. I sent him a letter, telling him that the great Zhiv Mikailsin had come to sing for him, and that he would find no better in any other time or place. Ordinarily, a note like that would have been a laugh among the nobles and forgotten. But I signed it the way my fathers had taught me, in what I learned much later was Ornic script. I was called in immediately, as I had requested, with only the King in attendance to hear me. I thought, if no one saw me enter or exit, I could do the job quickly, leave, and no one I loved would have to bear the consequences of my action. I used an amulet my father had kept from his days in service to a noble as a minstrel. It’s what I used to keep myself hidden, and I used the spells I’d been taught to hide my voice. And just before he entered, I heard him talking with three people at once: a Disciple, a Dog, and his child. He sounded so tired, and when he sat, I tried to see the evil man who had commissioned the Dogs to burn every minstrel in Okya Valley. All I saw was a tired old man.”
A faint smile touched Zhiv’s lips. “And then he told me that he was hoping I would show him more Ornic script. He said I had a very good hand, similar to the books he had. That shocked me. I didn’t know my ancestors had written in books, or that their stories were inscribed on the halls of the King, though never from the view I was given as a child. I grew weak. I couldn’t kill him that day. I told myself, after I’d sung and he’d agreed to keep me as a minstrel—as much for my ancestry as my ability—that I would do it the next day. Each day passed and I found a new reason to wait. Finally, I realized he only saw what the Disciples and the Dogs wanted him to see. He never left the castle. He never saw the Valley or my people. He didn’t even know what the citizens of Hurush were like outside of the occasional cry from a citizen in need. I felt sorry for him. I even found he regretted killing anyone, including my family, though he didn’t know who they were then. By that point, he knew what I looked like. And our talks that had begun as a way for me to find a chance to kill him, became one of my favorite times of the day. Because I thought I could change him. I thought I could show him where he was wrong, and perhaps protect another group that might otherwise find themselves destroyed as the minstrel tribes of Okya Valley were.”
Looking up, she saw an echo of his earlier fury. “There are some beliefs so deeply ingrained that nothing you do will ever dig them out. Not without destroying the wood. Your husband believes he owns you. This divorce will keep him from you for some time, perhaps for the rest of your life. But if even one stray pair of ears heard what the King did, your freedom is gone. Because he believes he owns you.”
She shook her head, but he stepped forward emphatic. “He does, Krysilla.”
The sound of her name from his lips made her look up at him, eyes wide.
“It would be different if you chose him. But this, being forced to go back to a life that was slowly killing you.” He shook his head, sharp and brief, and looked out the window behind her. “There’s a way to get rid of it. I can feel it. It’s just waiting to be found.” When he looked back down at her, she realized some of his usual energy had returned. “If things go poorly at the announcement, come back here. I’ll tell Daegan the same. If you find the way blocked, go to the castle.”
“How?”
“Heir Jixsin will tell you,” Zhiv grinned. “We’ll meet at the top of the grand staircase at the entrance.”
She remembered that. It was beautiful, the way the marble twisted upwards. “Very well.”
Satisfied with her answer, he nodded. “One last thing. I recommend you not tell Daegan about your deal with the King.”
She chuckled. “Ah yes. He said he’ll get you the gold he owes you this morning.”
His eyes sparkled as bright as his smile, and he turned to leave.
“Wait.” If they were truly going to trust each other, she had to tell him everything. “I have something else to confess.”
Once more, his face became next to impossible to read. “This way,” she said. He followed her out of his room and into hers, where Tira still slept soundly in her bed. When she carefully opened the wardrobe door, he relaxed.
“I was wondering if you might find this,” he whispered. “May I?” Zhiv was the one who opened the door to the secret room. “I can’t believe I’ve ignored it this long.”
“Even with the dagger in it?”
“And the book and the papers.” He walked directly to the chests and pulled out the one with the book without the dagger’s help in locating it. Opening it, his smile grew. “You didn’t take the book?”
“I didn’t understand the magic around it.”
He lifted it and said, “Oh. That. I shouldn’t have bothered. I was nervous, and thought I could hide the effect of spells on an item so that the Dogs couldn’t detect it, not realizing until afterward that the hiding itself was detectable. And my nervousness tied into the nervousness of the Ornic who’d originally owned this (I think he held it while casting) and it ended up amplifying the presence of magic and...as I said, I shouldn’t have bothered.” He took off the cloth, revealing a rather ordinary book with a worn, brown leather cover. There were no characters or images pressed into the leather. “It’s just a primer.”
“Of Ornic?”
He nodded. “A present from the King. Along with the dagger.”
“But I didn’t feel any magic on it.”
“It had disappeared, probably long before the King found it. Spells only last so long if there’s no power driving them.”
And what of the rift? Why had that spell lasted when others had faded away?
“Is that all, or do you have more to confess?” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I copied the alphabet I found in the drawer.”
He held out the book. “Then I think this should belong to you.”
She thought of the spell around it and hesitated. “Where would I put it where the Dogs couldn’t find it?”
His smile faded. “If the Dogs find it, I’ll reveal who I am and confess the truth: it’s a gift from the King. The Queen will confirm it. And I will tell them I let you borrow it because you thought the characters looked pretty.”
“Will they believe you?”
“All good lies are mostly truth. Besides, if we have to worry about the Dogs acting independent of the Queen, then the best place this could be is with you. Less to pack when we run.”
Still holding the book, she followed him out of the room and put it in her bag, then walked with him to the stairs. “How likely—” she began after they’d left her room, but he stopped her.
“No speculations. Anything could happen at this point.”
But you’re getting ready to run, she wanted to say. Still, he was right. No use speculating when nothing was clear yet.
“Zhiv,” it still felt odd to say his name so openly in this house. He paused and waited. She remembered how the King had cast his spell and the dagger had glowed before the spell had disappeared. “How much magic does it contain?” And is it Ornic? she almost added. Will the Dogs think more of it than you do?
“If you’re asking why it did what it did, I don’t know. It didn’t have any magic when it was given to me, and I only added the spell you saw in the room.” And she could hear in his voice that he truly didn’t know why the dagger had acted like it had.
“It’s still there,” she said.
“Yes.” And she knew he was also thinking through the consequences of that, with more experience and knowledge than she did.
She followed him down and watched him leave from the stairs, returning his wave before he walked through the door. Once he had left, she went to check on her niece and found her just waking up as well. They cleaned up and Krysilla brushed out the girl’s clothes as best she could, fussing over her as if she were a daughter she were about to lose forever. Arrogant, she thought. I’m not her mother. I
was never her mother and she’s only been near me one day.
There was a loud knocking on the door, and soon she heard her sister, Nitty, speaking in a very agitated voice. Tira paled.
“It’s all right dear,” Krysilla soothed. “It’s not your fault. I’ll tell your mother that and give you both enough money to buy something good to eat. Or would you rather have some of the food from the pantry?”
Tira shook her head, so Krysilla took what little money she had left from what Lejer had given her before she’d left him, tucked the coins into her sash, and went downstairs, hand-in-hand with her niece.
When Nitty saw them, she rushed forward and swept Tira into a tight embrace. “Where did you go? I told you to come home before the clock struck nine? I looked for you all night, stupid girl.” And yet, from the multitude of fierce kisses Nitty placed on Tira’s cheeks and forehead, it was clear she had been truly concerned.
And in that moment, she knew she’d never take Tira from her sister without very good cause.
Tira seemed glad to see her mother as well, but said nothing. It was Krysilla who told her, “The clock is broken, Nitty.” With a glance at Daegan who had lingered to watch, Krysilla said, “Nitty, can I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?”
Her sister agreed and the two went back there while Tira played with locks and other contraptions in Daegan’s shop.
Krysilla wasn’t sure where to start. She’d never had much reason in life to convince anyone of anything. Trying to imagine what Zhiv would say, she ended up saying something far more direct than would come out of his mouth. “Lord Teranasin is dead.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that to me?”
And then she realized her sister didn’t know that Krysilla knew about them. “I think you know.”
Nitty slowly nodded her head. “And?”
“And, now that a main source of income is gone, I think...I think you should consider what I propose.”
Her eyes narrowed further. “And what is that?”
“I’ve spoke with Hon Jixsin, and he’d be willing to let you and Tira stay here.”