by Dawn Peers
Quinn shuddered at remembering that fateful day on the Beach of Bones, and pushed Maertn to carry on. “So you managed to coax him back from the Beach. I thought you could only do that with me? How did that help his legs?”
“I don’t know how it helped him. It was easier bringing him back than it was you, that’s for sure. When I woke up, his legs were healed, and hours had passed. They weren’t completely healed, but the bones were back in place. He will walk again. Xander, my master in the hospital, was so pleased! Apparently apprentices have never done that before. I haven’t even told them about the healings I did for you, yet.”
“Has he asked anything about me?”
“They’ve asked about Sammah, and what it was like growing up with an empath, but that’s it. They’re treating me like a new student. They want me to have a good grounding before I work on the more intricate things.”
“As if you’re not capable. So why let you go to the hospital? Surely bringing someone back from the Beach is considered complex.”
“I don’t fully understand their ways yet, so I won’t question it. All I know is, I’m enjoying it, and I…I’m doing so much good here, Quinn. I’m helping normal people, and already saving lives.”
Quinn grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m so glad for you Maertn, I really am. Let’s go. We need to be at the council Hall quickly if we’re to back it back in time for our masters.”
Maertn agreed by sprinting off. Quinn ran after him, heading straight for the council Hall.
* * *
The hall wasn’t any less intimidating than the first time Quinn had been in there. It was, however, empty. Their set of footsteps echoed through the cavernous space. The cream marble, polished and immaculate, bounced the orange sun of the dying day up into Quinn’s face. Quinn decided this was a tactic used to intimidate visitors, though she had no idea how the men and women of the council ever got used to being bombarded by light.
As the baron was expecting a visitor, he should be in his rooms behind the Hall. Maertn didn’t hesitate as he dragged back to the offices, making Quinn think her friend had already been here before. Quinn hadn’t thought yet of asking Maertn about Ross, and she felt guilty for that. Remember to ask the baron. Pax, seeing that she was being cooperative with her master, would hopefully part with more information on Ross than her previous visit.
Quinn hadn’t been in the baron’s personal offices yet, so she was surprised when she found a simple room more reflective of apprentices than the leader of the city. She recalled what Baron Sammah’s apartments had been like in Everfell, and he claimed to have been working in squalor compared to his rooms at home.
Pax’s offices were bare, with nothing adorning the walls, and a light sheen of sand scattered across the floor instead of an ornate rug. He was sitting at his table, the light of one single candle guttering as his quill scratched across parchment. He looked up when they both walked in, and his smile made Quinn think he was genuinely surprised to see them both. Just a quick check told Quinn that he was indeed thrilled. But Quinn knew her powers could be deceptive—why was he pleased? If pleasure was his basic emotion, what was the reason for it?
“Maertn! Your timing is excellent, as always. I wasn’t expecting you here though, Quinn?”
“Tarik said I could accompany Maertn. I’ve been doing well in training, and I had a few questions for you, if that is okay?”
“Of course, it’s fine; you’re not a prisoner here.”
“So you keep telling me.”
Maertn elbowed her, and gave her a dangerous look which, in no uncertain way, was telling her to be quiet. Quinn was surprised at being admonished, especially by Maertn. Usually, her brother was on her side in all things.
“Well, it was Maertn I arranged to see, so I will see to my business with him first, if that’s fine with you? It’s not a private matter, not between family, so you may stay in the room—if Maertn is okay with that?”
Maertn shrugged as if to show he didn’t mind either way, so Pax waited for them both to sit down. Pax finished writing a sentence, and placed his quill down on the desk. He laced his fingers together, cocking his head. An awkward smile played across his face. Quinn was surprised to find that he was nervous.
“Rall tells me you’re already working in the hospital, Maertn. How are you finding it?”
“I must admit baron, it is tough work. I didn’t realise just how many people you treated here.”
The baron nodded knowingly, “That’s why the healers are so important to us. We need every single hand we can in the hospital, and you will be a valuable addition to our community here in Farn.”
“Thank you… Is that all you wanted from me?”
“I asked for Rall to train you for a reason, lad. You’ve had experience a healer before, and you were practically autonomous in Everfell. I was worried that you’d push yourself too hard, and I know that of all my men, Rall is the best-positioned to monitor you. His last message to me was disturbing, and I am disappointed to see that your master was not lying to me. You are working too hard, Maertn. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but we don’t want you draining yourself out. That’s the whole reason for us having multiple healers. You don’t need to work until you pass out.”
Maertn bowed his head. “I’m sorry, baron.”
“Never be sorry for helping people, Maertn. Just remember that you can’t help anybody if you can’t help yourself. Be careful. Don’t stretch yourself. That’s all I really needed to say to you. We care about our people, in times of peace, and in times of war. So, Quinn, what did you need from me?”
Quinn gulped a few times, the baron’s show of support for Maertn completely disrupting her own trail of thought. She stuttered a few times before eventually finding her voice. “Where’s Ross?”
As Maertn was clearly fine, despite how he outwardly looked—and the rest of it having been brought upon himself—Quinn decided to be blunt in asking what had happened to her other friend.
“He’s fine. You can ask any of the guardsmen. They rotate shifts guarding his rooms. You don’t need to come to me to ask this thing.”
“They won’t tell me anything about it. Master Tarik didn’t know anything either.”
“Tarik isn’t a guardsman, and he hasn’t been paid to chatter with you. He is being paid to teach you how to swing a sword. Find a man in the Farn house uniform—black with gold trim—and they will be able to tell you about Ross. Is that all you wanted?”
Quinn blushed. No, she wanted to ask about Nerren, but the baron had taken all of the wind out of the sails and now she was too scared to ask. Not wanting to seem like a blustering fool though, she changed the topic. “Will there be a war soon, do you think, if you’re employing someone as skilled as Tarik to train me?”
“Now that is a better question, especially given your status in the court.
“The council has spoken more on this matter, now we have had time to think about it. We haven’t heard much from Everfell about Sammah’s trial. Even Lord Lynton is surprised. We haven’t told the lord this, but yes, it is looking more likely that a war is inevitable. You know that I would prefer to sit and wait it out, but I cannot leave my people unprepared, in case the men of Everfell decide to invade.”
“You keep saying, your people. I thought the council made decisions for Sha’sek as a collective?”
“The council debates decisions for the good of the islands, this is true. We don’t all agree on things, but despite our disagreements, our paramount aim is to secure a better future for our people. There are twelve of us, but there must be one person above others, to guide and to speak on the council’s behalf. If a vote on a ruling is split, there must be one person who has the ultimate right to judgement. That person is me, now. Sha’sek might not have a king, like Everfell have Vance, but I’m the closest thing they’ll ever have to one.”
“What if you win the war? What of the people of Everfell?”
“We’re not going to butcher e
veryone, if that’s what you’re thinking. The whole point is that we can’t survive, separated over so many islands. The council wants to bring the lands together. The people of Sha’sek will move inland.”
“And that’s always been the reason Sha’sek and Everfell have been at conflict?”
“Sha’sek didn’t start the last war, Quinn. No matter what you’ve heard about Nerren and his influences, he wasn’t acting alone and he didn’t not force everyone to take up a sword. He was powerful, but he was not that powerful. Shiver struck first, and we reacted in self-defence. All Nerren wanted to do was defend his people….”
Pax was getting loud and irate. Quinn had hit a nerve; she could feel the heat of anger and passion roiling around him. If she let it, it would heat up the room for her, but she couldn’t concentrate on his words and his emotions. “You shouldn’t be concerned with this yet, Quinn. You…perhaps this is my fault. I’ve kept you isolated since you got here. This is the way we used to treat empaths, and I thought it was for your own good. Clearly that isn’t the case. You need to see the side of Sha’sek the other people see, and the bit the people that people of Everfell really don’t understand.
“Go back to Tarik. Maertn, you too, return to your master. You’re both to have the night off. The council is entertaining tonight, and you are invited. Quinn, you are to ask your maid to take you both to Laise. She will make you a dress to wear tonight, Quinn, and a suit for you, please, Maertn. You have met the council, and you have both started your study with our masters. Tonight, you will see what it really means to be a part of the Sha’sekian court.”
26
Quinn had been reticent about telling Tarik she wasn’t going to be training with him that evening. Her gruff master seemed pleased, though, and his eyes lit up when Quinn told him that she needed to see Laise. The woman was a renowned dressmaker, and Tarik informed her that the woman’s talent was just that—dressmaking.
Quinn hadn’t considered this. Beyond the fearful control of emotions, all she had seen of Sha’sek were its fighters and healers. She hadn’t considered that people would have more benign skills, and the prospect made the residents of Farn seem less intimidating as a whole. Sara clapped her hands with glee when Quinn told her where they were to go, and declared her jealousy. Only the rich wore dresses made by Laise.
Laise’s shop was in the street of tailors. It was a proper shop, with windows and a small display in the front, completely in contrast to the silk stores Quinn had seen in the markets. A small bell tinkled as Quinn walked in, and Laise, sitting at a table, turned to glance at them. She reminded Quinn of Renner, the matriarch of Everfell’s kitchens. She was an officious woman, bustling around her workshop like it was her own private kingdom, a handful of girls scuttling around after her making threads, sweeping floors, and putting up the dresses to hang that just been made by their mistress. When Quinn had sidled in, she had been shooed away, but when she passed over a scroll sealed by the baron himself, Laise had come scuttling over, raising her hands in delight.
It wasn’t new to her to make gowns for the noted nobles of the court, but to make one at short notice, and for an empath too—this will be an honour, the diminutive woman had drawled. She refused the money that Quinn had proffered, and instead of ordering her girls, sat down to the task herself. Quinn had sat fascinated, watching as Laise first put together a stunning dress, blood red and cut off the shoulder, sweeping to the floor. It was easily the most exquisite gown that Quinn had ever seen. That she should be allowed to wear it was more than slightly intimidating.
Laise had put the piece together within a couple of hours, declaring it finished. Quinn glanced outside. It was full-dark now, and Maertn didn’t have his garments yet. Laise grinned knowingly, clapping her hands. After a glance up and down followed by a measurement that had seemed more for show than anything, Laise had declared that she already had a suit made which was a close enough fit. Apparently, the merchant’s son that had been waiting for this outfit could wait another few days. A healer favoured by the baron was more important.
Laise set about cutting that with just the same efficiency as the gown, and within two hours, Quinn and Maertn left with finished garments, dashing back to Quinn’s suite to get bathed and dressed.
It was like old times, when he would be waiting for after her night shift was finished, a bath already run for her and soothing herbs emanating through her rooms. As Sara poured a bath, Maertn passed her a little pouch.
“Pour this in the bath, please.”
“What’s in that?”
“It’s a harmless enough mixture. If you’re going to be parading around the Sha’sek nobility tonight then you need to be in the right mood. You’ve been prickly all day. Maybe it stands out more because I haven’t seen you for so long, but we can’t have you rubbing the council up the wrong way, can we?”
This should have annoyed Quinn, but she did laugh. Maertn was expecting Quinn to be nervous, so he was trying to make her relax. She let him have his fun. Sliding out of her filthy training gear, she padded out of the room and into her bath.
For so long she had looked at the women of the court—daughters and wives—decked out in their finery and parading themselves around in front of the men. Well, this time would be her turn, and Quinn had no idea how that would feel.
“What do you think it’ll be like?” Quinn asked Maertn before she submerged herself in the water, reaching out a hand for a soap that she knew Maertn would place in her hand. He did, and she started scrubbing herself.
“I have no idea. I know what the Everfell balls were like, but they do things differently in Farn. I think I’m more excited than scared. What about you?”
Quinn dunked herself in the water again. “I’m just glad in control of my powers this time round.”
27
The ball was to be held in the Council Hall. The sprawling complex of Farn had to house and serve many; they didn’t have the spare room to have empty halls waiting for parties to fill them. Such was the restriction of life on an island. Quinn had been used to wasted space in Everfell. Many of the rooms she cleared before meets stood empty for weeks. What was the point in that? They had the right idea here—if a room had a purpose, it could have two. No space was wasted, and this was a common thing within Farn.
Maertn hadn’t let Quinn look in a mirror until Sara had finished painting her lightly with the make-up favoured by women of the court. Quinn had asked her to be light with it, but by the time Sara was finished, the young girl had tears in her eyes. Quinn hadn’t recognised the woman staring back at her from the reflection.
She was proud of the way she looked, especially compared to the urchin she’d been in Everfell. The cut of the dress was perfect, clinging to her bust and circling tightly on her hips and thighs, sweeping out as it reached her calves. Life in Sha’sek was helping. Sammah hadn’t been generous with their meals, and she was already feeling leaner both from her journey here and through her the early days of tutelage with Tarik.
Laise had outdone herself, and in such a short space of time. What a wonderful gift to have. Simple and harmless. Quinn’s power was anything but, but Laise had been thrilled to work for her. That had been a wonderful feeling, buoying Quinn as the time of the ball approached. Laise hadn’t recoiled from her; she had been honoured to work for her. This was how belonging somewhere felt.
Laise had been right, too. The outfit she had recut for Maertn fit him like a glove, and he cut a fine figure, looking the man he now was. He was wearing black trousers, and a loose white shirt which was cinched with a blue waistcoat, buttoned up in the middle. Maertn was a skinny wretch, and he always would be, but Sara had predicted this. Despite Maertn’s protests, she had applied powder to hide his tired purple shadows, and kohled the edges of his large eyes. The effect made him appear more human, and even borderline handsome, Quinn noticed.
Maertn had preened in front of the mirror, declaring them both to be stunning. They would make an impact, which would be
just what the baron wanted. Quinn secretly thought his real agenda for their invite was to parade his new acquisitions, including the infamous empath, in front of the rest of the court. They would find out a bit more about Sha’sekian culture, but that wasn’t his main intention. Quinn didn’t like the idea of Pax making her strut around like a prize hen, but like Maertn, she did want to make a good impression. She had made so many bad impressions, so many times, and this was a fresh chance to make her mark on these people. She wouldn’t let that chance slip by.
Quinn took Maertn by the arm. “Are you ready to dance, my lord?”
“Indeed, my lady, let’s show them what culture the court of Everfell can produce!”
In a rare show of concern, Quinn reached out to Maertn to see how he really felt beneath the bravado. He was nervous, like her, but the sensation wasn’t overpowering. Quinn didn’t pursue it: nerves were natural. Instead, she retreated back into herself. She wouldn’t be able to help Maertn if she was just concentrating on him. They walked up the Council Hall arm-in-arm, and there were two guards standing waiting to let them in. The doors were open simultaneously.
The apprentice healer, and the maid from the halls of Everfell, stepped through arm-in-arm, into a waiting crowd.
The buzz the room didn’t stop as they walked in, like Quinn had been expecting. That was a relief—she didn’t want to be the centre of attention. Maertn didn’t drop her arm, and she thought it sensible that they stay together for as long as they could. They skirted around the edges, taking in the people of the court. Both men and the women were in all sorts of finery, and Quinn was astonished to see men dancing with men, and women dancing with women.
“Can you see that?”
Quinn tried to be discreet, and pointed towards a young male couple she saw spinning in the middle of the floor. Maertn craned his neck to see what Quinn was pointing at, and she crowed to herself when a childish grin spread across his face.