Beggar Magic

by Burke, H. L.

  “Leilani, my child,” her mother said.

  Leilani turned to her.

  “You will not be disappointed if this girl neglects to contact you.” From her mother’s tone, this could’ve been either a question or an order.

  Leilani swallowed. “Why wouldn’t she?” After all, Zeb liked her. They even talked about the Strains. No one had ever talked with Leilani about the Strains like that before. Surely you didn't share such things with someone only to abandon them. That wouldn't be right.

  Her mother took the plate from her and washed it carefully in the bucket.

  “No laws say the Highmost must not converse with the Common, but we are chickens in the barnyard and they are doves in the garden. Our lives are filled with work. The Highmost? Who knows what they do in their great manors? There is a gap between our worlds, Leilani, and she will most likely forget you.”

  “But she gave me her book.” Leilani’s throat constricted.

  “Little one, such things are trifles to the Highmost. This Zebedy can afford many books.”

  Leilani’s lunch sat heavy in her stomach. She lowered her eyes and nodded. She didn't want to believe what her mother said, but what if she was right? What if Leilani was nothing at all to Zeb?

  Her mother touched her shoulder. “Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps your Zebedy is wise enough to see your value as a friend, but try not to hope. Read your book, treasure your memories, and be satisfied.”

  Chapter Four

  Two weeks after Leilani’s adventure in the woods, the letter arrived. Unlike most of the Weavers’ mail–which they fetched once a month from the Messenger Guild in the Merchant District–it came to the door. The apprentice who brought it, a boy of perhaps fifteen, pulled himself up and presented the letter to Mrs. Weaver as if he were an ambassador delivering a grand treaty. Mrs. Weaver thanked him and offered him a cookie. He accepted it, blushed, and mumbled in an artificially low voice, “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Mother, what does it say?” Keris clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Oh! Is that a wax seal? In red? So official, perhaps it is an invitation . . . to a ball.”

  “Yes, and you’ll leave your sandal behind and marry the Rynaran emperor’s son like in grandma’s stories.” Leilani rolled her eyes. She forced her feet to stay planted on the floor and not dance about. She had her own hopes as to what might be in the envelope but dared not voice them.

  Her mother slid her fingernail around the seal until it gave and the envelope popped open. The children inhaled as one.

  “Well,” Mother said. “Leilani, this is for you.”

  Leilani’s hands shook as she took the precious document. Her father came away from his loom and leaned over the counter to watch. Four sets of eyes bored into her as she read aloud.

  “Miss Zebedy Brightly requests the honor of Miss Leilani Weaver’s presence on the 5th day of High Spring at midday in the Botanical Gardens. Lunch will be provided.”

  “Oh, it is an invitation!” Keris squealed. “And she called you Miss Leilani, like a little grown up.”

  Leilani wrinkled her nose at Keris then turned her hopeful eyes towards her mother. “The fifth is tomorrow. May I go?”

  “The Botanical Gardens are all the way in the Leisure District, and Father and I have work to do,” her mother said.

  “You let Keris go with Jess to the last festival in the Merchant District. The Leisure District isn't that much farther,” Leilani pointed out.

  Mother sighed. “Well, the guards keep the streets safe. Tray, what do you think?”

  “Well . . .” her father drew out the syllable as he walked around the counter. He smiled and wiped his hands on his pant legs. “It's all right with me. Soon enough we'll have to do without both of our girls, after all.”

  Leilani stood still, holding her precious letter. What would it be like to spend an afternoon among the Highmost? Would she be expected to behave prim and proper like the stories Grandma used to tell where girls balanced pots on their heads to learn to walk like perfect ladies? Oh, and the book! Leilani had read it three times over and had hoped to read it again, but Zeb would want it back.

  Of course, none of that mattered. Zeb had kept her promise!

  That night Leilani stared into the darkness with the book clutched to her chest. She wondered what the day would bring. What would Zeb's parents think of her? Would she look out of place in her Common clothes? At least she knew they wouldn't have better table manners, not if Vickers was any indication of the average Highmost.

  Finally, about mid-morning, when Mother could no longer find chores to busy her, Leilani hurried out the door.

  The Trade District made up the outer ring of Gelia City's five circles. To get to the Leisure District, Leilani would have to pass through the Merchant District, filled with markets, banks, and money changers, then Civics Circle where the guards who watched the cities roads trained and the Highmost-appointed-judges held court.

  Leilani had never been beyond the Leisure District, but she knew that the center circle, the Manor District, housed the homes and workplaces of the Highmost.

  The bridges over the canals were staggered about the rings–her father said to make it harder for would-be invaders–so when Leilani crossed one she had to go at least a quarter way around the circle to get to the next. Every so often she would pass a pair of guards, clad in black leather doublets with silver metal cuffs on their wrists.

  At last she reached the wide, white stone bridge spanning the water way between the Civic Circle and the Leisure District. Before her rose the gleaming spires of the Cathedral, three in total, each higher than the one preceding it. A golden flame crowned the tallest, brilliant in the mid-day sun.

  There was so much more sky here than in the cramped streets of the Trade District and so much green that for moment Leilani thought she had stepped out of the city and back into the woods. While the main road continued up to the Cathedral, dozens of little paths led off through the manicured trees.

  Signposts at the head of each path indicated attractions such as “Aviary,” “Heroes’ Monument,” and “Amphitheater.” Leilani sighted one labeled “Botanical Gardens” about half way up the road. She started to run, but heard her mother's voice in her head, “Do you want to be so out of breath you can’t even say ‘hello’ when you find your friend? Walk like a lady.”

  Like a quick lady, Leilani decided. She kept her steps fast but her manner composed.

  She traveled down the path through speckled sunlight, passing benches and fountains and folk picnicking on the grass. A rose covered trellis made a gateway in a tall, green hedge. She walked through this into an open green field. Leilani stopped short.

  Grids of waist-high hedges divided the field into segments, each of which appeared to be a complete garden in its own right. Sculpted topiaries filled one area and roses another. A great hedge maze with walls taller than a grown man beckoned from behind a fountain and a lily pad covered duck pond.

  Leilani strained her neck this way and that in search of Zebedy.

  “Leilani!”

  She whirled around and found Zebedy running down the path towards her.

  “You’re right on time of course.” The younger but taller girl tackle-hugged Leilani then looked back over her shoulder at a couple strolling hand and hand. “My parents can be so slow sometimes. I feared you would tire of waiting and go home before we got here.”

  Leilani smiled. “Never.”

  The Brightlys approached. Leilani drew herself up, hoping to make a good impression. Zeb seemed to accept her even though she wasn't Highmost, but would her parents?

  Both of the Brightlys had graying, light brown hair and crow's feet around their eyes. They wore identical sky blue robes.

  “So this is the young lady who saved our little genius.” The man chuckled, his kind smile putting her at ease.

  “My name is Leilani.”

  “Zebedy mentioned that you had aspirations towards joining the Merchant Guild,” Mr. B
rightly said as he led their small group down the gravel path to the maze.

  Leilani blushed. “They are just dreams, sir.”

  “Ah, but dreams are admirable things. Never dismiss a dream. I mention it now because you might be interested in the greenhouses. The merchants are our best source of exotic plants. They bring back many fine specimens from their trips abroad.”

  “I want to show her the maze, Father,” Zebedy said.

  “In good time, Zebedy. You may be on recess, but one should never stop learning. The greenhouses are most educational.”

  They detoured onto a path that went around the perimeter of the maze rather than through it. On the other side stood a long glass house with a rounded roof, like half a transparent pipe, but so full of leaves that the glass appeared to be green at first glance.

  “Open up,” Mr. Brightly said.

  The door swung open. Leilani swallowed. She had forgotten how casually the Highmost used the Strains.

  They stepped inside and another word from Zeb's father set the door back in place. Warm, humid air wrapped around Leilani like a blanket as smells straight out of her mother’s spice jars wafted to her nose. Along with those odors came floral scents, intoxicating and calming. She swayed. The Strains whistled a low, flute-like melody.

  Zeb grabbed her arm. “Oh no. He's here.”

  Leilani glanced around. “Huh? Who?”

  Zeb pointed forward.

  The plants crowding the space before them left only a narrow walkway covered in dried moss. Leilani squinted through the fan shaped leaves and hanging flowers and saw a bench at the end, up against the far wall. On it sat a young man, reading.

  “Can we go to the maze now, please?” Zeb asked.

  “We just got here,” Mrs. Brightly answered. “I think this is the new fern species from Ollare. Research and Healing have been fighting over samples for months now.” The adults admired a feathery, blue-green plant.

  Zeb fidgeted, glancing from the boy on the bench to the exit. The rangy young man looked up, tucked his book under his arm, and rose. Zebedy stepped behind her father. As the youth unfolded to his full height and the sunlight hit his dark hair, Leilani recognized him.

  “Oh, Vickers,” she said.

  Zebedy nodded, her mouth puckering.

  Zeb’s classmate ambled towards them. He stood a hand taller than Mr. Brightly, his size belying his youthful face. Leilani hadn’t noticed that the first time she met him.

  “Hello, Zebedy,” he said.

  Zebedy stepped out to face him. “Hi.”

  Leilani stood at her friend’s side, ready to defend her should Vickers prove hostile.

  “Zebedy, dear, is this a friend of yours?” Mrs. Brightly asked.

  “Just a classmate.”

  Mrs. Brightly raised her eyebrows, and Zeb sighed.

  “Mother, Father, this is Vickers Buffet. Vickers, these are my parents, and you’ve met Leilani.”

  “Buffet? You must be Rigel Buffet’s son then. Are you fifteen?”

  “No, ma’am. Nearly seventeen, actually.”

  Mrs. Brightly nodded. “You are a junior fellow, then?”

  He shifted from one foot to another. “No. Unfortunately, my desired manor had a hiring freeze due to budgetary issues. Rather than settle for my second choice, I arranged to stay at the Country House another year.”

  “Budgetary issues.” Mr. Brightly raised his palms to the sky as if nothing more needed to be said. “Do you intend to go into the Healing Manor like your father? The Buffet name is quite the legacy to live up to.”

  “No, sir. I start my fellowship at Civics this winter. I have a head for statistics and figures. My, uh, people skills are less developed, and I've been told my bedside manner would never allow me to be a sympathetic healer.”

  “Well, you seem quite well spoken to me.” Mrs. Brightly beamed. “I'm glad Zebedy has such accomplished and promising classmates.”

  Vickers’s dark eyes stared at Zeb. “Your daughter is quite talented in her own right.”

  “Thank you,” Zeb said but averted her gaze from his.

  He nodded. “I have studying to do. I will leave you folks to your outing.”

  Zeb's eyes stayed on Vickers as he walked past them and out the door.

  “What a nice young man. We really should have more of Zeb’s classmates over for tea.” Mrs. Brightly turned back towards the intriguing fern.

  “Mother, please, can we go to the maze now?” Zebedy begged.

  Mrs. Brightly sighed. “I suppose. Go have fun. Your father and I wish to see more of the greenhouses.”

  The girls hurried away. Once outside, Zebedy looked around. “Whew, he didn’t linger. It's infuriating how he can pretend to be such a gentleman with grown ups around, as if he actually had a soul.”

  “You really don’t like him. Is it because he's going into Civics? You said you didn’t care for Civics.”

  “No, it isn’t that. It’s a long story, but Vicky is my nemesis.”

  Leilani mulled over this as the girls took the path back to the maze entrance. She had never known anyone with a nemesis before.

  Zeb took her hand when they stepped into the maze. She grinned. “The idea is to get as lost as possible. It raises the stakes when you have to find your way out. Come on!”

  Hand in hand the girls ran down the shadowy paths, making random turn after random turn. Finally they hit a dead end and sank to the packed earth, out of breath and laughing. Zeb glanced over at Leilani who looked down and saw that she still held the book in her hands.

  “Oh, you brought that. I'd almost forgotten,” Zeb said.

  Leilani passed it to Zeb.

  “Did you like it?” Zeb asked. “Oh, of course you did! How could you not? Which was your favorite part?”

  “When he first tames the dragon and they go flying together over the forests and into the mountains, riding among the whistling Strains.” Leilani leaned back against the hedge.

  “Oh, I like that bit. Though the battle between the two dragons towards the end is better, just in my opinion.”

  They sat in silence for a moment before Leilani cleared her throat. “For a nemesis, Vicky is awfully nice to your parents.”

  “He’s sneaky that way. When we first met, I thought we would be great friends. Then I realized what a complete blackguard he is.”

  “What did he do?”

  Zeb’s face reddened. She exhaled slowly. “He's older than me, you know, and when I first got to the Country House he had already been there for two years. Madame Clavia considered him her star student. His father has been in the Highmost Seat several times so everyone expects Vickers to have an amazing future in whatever field he chooses.”

  “Highmost Seat?”

  “Oh, I forgot you wouldn’t know about that. It's hard to explain. The Seat is an elected position among the manors. No one can hold it for more than five years at a time, so it switches frequently, but whoever holds the Seat settles disputes between the manors and things like that.”

  “Ah, like when the guilds meet and appoint a Chairman for the year.”

  “Now I know nothing about that, but sure, sounds about right. Rigel Buffet has held the position four times, which is some sort of record. Every time he's been eligible to run, he’s won.

  “Anyway, my first night at the Country House, I felt really homesick, so I wandered into the library. Vickers was there, alone, reading. He reads a lot, better with books than people, which generally I admire, books are wonderful, but . . .” Her eyes clouded, and she ground her palm into the dirt. “Anyway, we started to talk, and because I was lonely, I told him all about myself. He seemed like such a good listener. He didn’t talk much except for one story he told me about his mother. It was so funny, about her chasing chickens around the yard and finally giving up only to have one land on her head when she sat sulking.”

  Leilani laughed, but something in Zeb's eyes made her smile fade.

  “So how did he get from there to being
your nemesis?” she asked.

  “Well, the next evening all the students were gathered for one of Madame Clavia’s discussion sessions. She likes to pick a topic and just have students gab about it, throwing back and forth ideas and observations. Coincidentally, the topic that night turned out to be flight, whether men would ever find the means to fly and how birds managed it. Vickers had the floor for most of it. I know I mock him, but he's highly intelligent, which is actually part of the difficulty with him. If he were stupid he would be dismissible, but anyway, he lectured for a bit about avian aerodynamics, and I decided to make a joke referencing his story. I forget exactly what I said, something like he should know all about birds since his mother was a chicken expert. Everyone just stared at me.

  “There are stares and there are stares, you know. These stares were as if I’d just said something terrible. Madame Clavia got all serious and said, ‘Now, Miss Zebedy, that was cruel.’ I remember her words exactly, even if I’ve forgotten my own. I think after a bit she saw how confused I was because she took me aside. She explained that not only was Vickers’s mother an important senior fellow at Healing Manor, not someone who would ever be chasing chickens around, but that she had been dead a little over a year, and it isn’t kind to make fun of dead parents.”

  Leilani furrowed her brow. “So the whole story he told was a lie?”

  “Apparently. I was so humiliated. It's one thing to have people think you are stupid or careless, but to be labeled as cruel? That I couldn’t bear. Anyway, no one would talk to me for a long time. Vickers tried once, but he wouldn't admit to lying, so I shut my door in his face. I realized he probably intended for me to make a fool of myself. He told that lie knowing I’d repeat it and look silly.”

  “That's horrible. Do the other students still not speak to you?”

  Zeb grinned. “Oh, they speak to me all right. I took my revenge with style. Along with the discussions, Madame Clavia sets up formal debates once a month. She gives out the topic and team assignments a week in advance and, like with everything, Vickers was considered the reigning champion.

  “Anyway, I spent every spare moment in the library, researching and plotting and when debate day came, I claimed the floor. You should’ve seen his face when I defeated him. Those big brown eyes of his looked like a stunned puppy dog's. I almost forgave him for a moment, just because of that.” She laughed. “So, anyway, since then we've been academic rivals. You know, as much as I loathe him personally, when he leaves the Country House, I will miss the challenge he provides.”