Beggar Magic

by Burke, H. L.

  “I have plenty left. Want to keep playing this game?”

  Leilani counted the columns to the center of the room: three more jumps should do it. She drew a deep breath and tightened her hold about the saber’s hilt.

  “The shameful thing is, you aren’t even one of them,” Kasan continued. “You’re just a favored pet, like my brother. You know where that got him. You’ll never belong with the Highmost, little Common girl.”

  An argument that would’ve been more convincing before you tried to blow me up.

  She slipped to the next column.

  He gave a cry of triumph.

  Realizing she’d been seen, she sprinted out of the way even as a grenade slammed into her former hiding place. The stone cracked, and the column sagged.

  Leilani’s chin collided with the dirt floor, and her teeth sank into her tongue. Blood tainted her mouth. The saber clattered away from her. She struggled forward on her hands and knees. Kasan stepped into the gap between the next two pillars and grinned down at her, his foot on top of her blade.

  With one hand on the nearest column for support, she stood.

  He tossed a grenade up and down. “Actually, I lied about plenty. This is my last one, but it should be sufficient.” He pulled back his arm.

  Everything seemed to slow down. She watched the arch of the weapon as it hurtled towards her. Instinctively, she put her hand up. It smacked against her fingers, and with one fluid motion and all her might, she hurled it towards the collectors.

  Kasan shrieked. “No!” He dove after it.

  The grenade collided against the collectors and detonated. The Strains’ death wail expanded, thrusting Kasan back like a leaf caught in a windstorm. The columns nearest the explosion cracked.

  Leilani dashed for the ladder. Debris rained down on her head. She glanced back. Strains whistled through a hole in the side of one of the collectors. The other three, however, appeared uncompromised.

  Kasan’s grenades had already weakened the room. If she didn’t stop the collectors, Art could collapse.

  Ignoring the shrill cries of the Strains and Kasan’s crumpled body, she sprinted to the middle of the room. She flipped valves open, and the joyous cries of liberated Strains mingled with the agonized shouts of the dying.

  “This is over,” she snarled. “No one will do this to you again.” Two collectors disabled, she stepped over Kasan's body to the third.

  A grinding sound caused her to turn. A column slipped to the side, toppling like a tree, towards her. She darted out of the way. The heavy stones crushed the last collector like a tin can. Strains burst from it, and the room shook. She fought through the crumbling rocks and choking dust. Kasan’s lantern blinked out as she reached the foot of the ladder. The metal rungs vibrated beneath her fingers. Leilani made it up two steps before her hands slipped. She fell back onto the ground.

  Lights danced before her, spots of brightness against the sheet of black. The stars faded and all was silent and cold.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Leilani woke to a throbbing headache and the smell of clean cotton. She inhaled and let the breath chase the aches from the corners of her mind. The Strains droned a lullaby, like a harmony of buzzing bees. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  An oil lamp flickered on the table beside her. Her forehead felt stiff. Raising her hand to her brow, she found it bandaged. Her clothes had been replaced by a white night shirt.

  A few feet away, three people stood beside another bed, their backs to her. She recognized Zeb’s lopsided braid and Vickers’s stature. The man to Vickers’s left was nearly as tall as Vickers but with gray streaked hair.

  “You are right, Miss Brightly,” the older man said. “Carefully controlled exposure to amplified Strains might reverse the damage. I believe that was the cure when Fellow Verge’s assistant fell victim to Strains blindness. The question is, at what frequency?”

  “I’m sure the healers at the time left records,” Vickers said with a snort. “It isn’t as if we have to repeat their research, just replicate the results.”

  The older man turned his head enough for Leilani to see his scowl. Vickers turned his back to him, and the movement allowed Leilani to see Brick, sleeping in the bed. He looked so peaceful that she almost hushed the Highmost, before realizing it didn’t matter.

  The older man cleared his throat. “I’ll check the record room. Will you come with me, Vickers? The work will be quicker with two.”

  Vickers shifted from foot to foot but nodded and followed the man out.

  Zeb glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes lit up. “Leilani, oh thank the Strains!” She scraped a chair across the room and sat at Leilani’s bedside.

  “Is this Healing?” Leilani asked as she sat up in bed.

  “Yes. They found you hours ago, after Vickers explained what was going on to the guards at Civics and we realized you were missing. The market room under Art is covered in rubble, but thankfully we found you on top of it, not under it. It looked as if you almost made it out. Did you see Kasan?”

  Leilani grimaced. “He was in the market room too. It might take a while to dig him up, however.”

  Zeb shuddered. “So much dying, though after what he did . . . Anyway, I had them move you in here because I thought you’d want to see Brick when you came to.”

  Leilani smiled. “Thank you. It sounds as if there is hope?”

  “Oh, yes. That man is Vickers’s father. They kind of have a difficult relationship, but he’s brilliant, so Vickers asked him to help. It took a lot of pride swallowing on Vickers’s part. I thanked him for you, a couple of times.” Zeb grinned, then blushed, then twisted her braid. “Anyway, he thinks we can fix Brick.”

  Relief flooded Leilani’s chest, and she exhaled. She swung her legs out of bed.

  Zeb picked Leilani’s bag off the floor. “Here. I’ll leave so you can change. I want to see if Vickers needs my help. Also, I know they sent for Brick’s mother. You might want some time alone with him before she shows up. I know I would, anyway.”

  Zeb left, and Leilani turned the chair to face Brick’s bed. She dug out a change of clothes, pulling on a pair of leggings and replacing the nightshirt with a knee length smock. Even though he was asleep, and temporarily unable to see her even if awake, she still flushed and averted her eyes from him as she changed. She settled into the chair when finished.

  His hand rested outside the blankets. She slipped her fingers into it. He started awake, so she tightened her grip and brought his palm to her face.

  His thumb stroked her chin, and a weak smiled played across his lips. With his free hand, he circled his face, signing beautiful again.

  “I wish I could be as brave as you,” she whispered. “I’d face a thousand grenades before enduring what you’re going through right now.”

  The door behind her creaked open. Flory entered the room, her brows furrowed together. Her eyes glistened. Seeing Leilani, she gave a haggard smile.

  Leilani started to rise, but Flory put her hand out.

  “Please. I know you’re comforting him. The nurse in the hallway remembered me from my manor days. She told me what happened and that the prognosis is good.” She stepped around Leilani’s chair and ruffled her son’s hair. He grabbed her wrist and followed it up to her face. He made a rocking motion with his arm and stroked his cheek. She laughed, pulled his hand to her face, and nodded. Flory and Leilani sat in silence, watching over Brick. Eventually he fell asleep once more.

  Leilani related the story of their adventures as he slept. She had just gotten to where Zeb attacked the door with the broken hammer when Vickers entered the room.

  “My father will be back in a moment. He and Zeb went to get the original amplifier from stor. . .” Vickers’s voice died in his throat. His hands fell limp at his side, and his lower jaw went slack.

  Flory staggered to her feet, drawing a jagged breath.

  “Mom?” Vickers voice was almost a whimper. His usually stoic presence melted, and for a mom
ent, his face resembled a lost child’s.

  Flory stumbled forward and touched his arm. “Vick? Is it really you? Oh look at you. You’re so tall.”

  Leilani's mind raced. Vickers and Flory? Then Vickers and Brick? Oh Strains. Does Brick know?

  She stepped back, pressing herself into the wall to avoid coming between them, but it probably wouldn’t matter. They didn’t even look in her direction.

  Flory embraced Vickers. He held back, his eyes squeezed shut.

  After a moment he withdrew and glanced at Brick. “He’s your son?”

  She nodded. “I married his father shortly after you were taken from me. I wanted to tell you about him, but I was afraid you’d beg to meet him. It is hard enough getting one little boy to keep a secret, let alone two, though neither of you are boys any more.”

  “I’m sorry he was hurt. He's getting the best care possible, though. My father . . . oh Strains, this is going to be awkward.”

  “I am not afraid of your father,” Flory said. “If he’s willing to help Brick, I’m grateful. What happened between us was a long time ago. He doesn’t know that you know me, does he?”

  Vickers shook his head.

  “Good. We can keep it that way. It will make it easier for us to see each other in the future.” She touched her son’s cheek. “You are everything I dreamed for you. I am so thankful to see you again.”

  Leilani cleared her throat. “I’ll step outside if you two want to talk for a while.”

  “Thank you,” Vickers said, opening the door for her.

  Outside of the small sick room was an open hall with skylights, benches, and many more doors, presumably leading to more small sick rooms. She sat upon a bench, her head spinning. Brick and Vickers were brothers? Half-brothers, but brothers still. When Zebedy heard that, her head would likely explode. Well, that was for Vickers to tell her.

  Zeb and Mr. Buffet came down the hall. A man in a white apron wheeled a cart with the amplifier on it after them. The men and the amplifier entered the sick room, but Zeb settled next to Leilani.

  “We’ll know in a few minutes if it works or not,” she said. “The Strains think it will. They’ve been cheering me on this whole time. Loudly. Even Fellow Buffet, Vickers’s father, could hear them. He thinks I should switch manors to Healing.”

  Leilani raised her eyebrows. “Do you want to?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t necessarily want to return to Research, not with all that has happened. Too many ghosts.” Zeb rubbed her hands on her knees. “I don’t know if working here would be good for me and Vickers . . . me and Vickers. It feels so weird saying that.” Her laugh fluttered and the Strains vibrated along, like fingers gliding over a harp.

  Leilani patted her friend’s shoulder. “For what it is worth, I think Vickers is the kind who will stay with you no matter what you choose. He’s a good man, steady. You could use some steady.”

  “You’ve always been my steady.” Zeb smiled.

  “And I always will be, but Vickers is good for you, too.”

  “Yes. I kind of always knew he was. I just thought he didn’t like me. It's weird how wrong I can be about people when I know so much about the Strains. I was right about you, though.” The two girls embraced.

  The door opened, and Vickers stepped out. “Leilani, you might want to see this.”

  Hand in hand, Zeb and Leilani followed Vickers back into the room. Mr. Buffet had attached two black suction cups, one over each of Brick’s eyes. Both led to the amplifier through snakey tubes. He adjusted the dials on the amplifier, and a high but sweet note hummed through the room.

  “It may only be a partial restoration at first,” he said. “We'll probably need to schedule multiple treatments over the next week, though we should be able to tell immediately if it is working or not.”

  Leilani knelt at Brick’s bedside. Buffet peeled off the cups, and Brick stared wide eyed at the ceiling. He blinked. His pupils darted from side to side before his gaze fell upon Leilani.

  She smiled.

  Tears welled in his eyes. He bolted up and pulled her to his chest. Squeezed against him, she let herself cry. The Strains laughed about her, melding with the happy cries of Flory and Zeb. Brick kissed the top of Leilani’s head. She raised her face to his.

  Their lips met. The Strains began a symphony, and Leilani’s heart sang along with them.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Leilani and Brick walked hand and hand up to Art Manor. A cold breeze whistled about them, and she shivered, wishing she hadn't let the bright spring sun fool her into not wearing a cloak. Brick grinned, a spring in his step in spite of the chill.

  The Strains swirled around them, fluttering like bird's wings.

  They reached the steps. Brick glanced at the door then back at Leilani. He let go of her hand so he could sign.

  She watched his fingers closely then looked up at his eyes to reply. “I know I can't follow you into class, but I wanted to see you here. It's your first day. That's a big deal.”

  He ran his fingertips down the side of her face. He stepped up one step, turned back, smiled, and signed some more.

  “Dinner, tonight,” she agreed. She tapped her lips with her fingers then touched her fingers to the back of her hand, hoping she got the gestures right this time. He didn't chuckle, so she must've been close. “It's a date.”

  She watched him disappear into the building. Other manor students, some wearing brown and gray Common clothes, passed her. She hadn't realized how many Common folk attended Art until Brick received his overdue scholarship. It was swiftly becoming Leilani's favorite manor.

  “Leilani!”

  She turned at the voice. Zeb waved as she ran up. “I thought I'd find you here. Vick told me Brick started today.”

  Leilani rolled her eyes. “Vick? Is that what you're calling him now? Seriously, that will get confusing.”

  Zeb shrugged. “I call him Vicky in private, but he asked me to avoid it around others . . . I guess you're probably excluded from others. Anyway, he won't mind.”

  “Well, I'll stick with Vickers rather than Vicky. I owe him that. If he wasn't helping Flory, Brick would still be a guard rather than finally attending Art.”

  Zeb grinned. “I knew we'd marry brothers, and I did get the older one . . .”

  Leilani held up her hand. “No one is getting married yet. Strains, you're worse than Keris.”

  A breath of wind pushed a strand of Zeb's hair in her face. She brushed it back. “Come on, there's something we need to talk about, but I told Vickers I'd meet him at Civics . . . let's walk and talk.”

  With no manor posting, Zeb had moved back in with her parents who were trying unsuccessfully to get her to join the “less dangerous” Weather Manor.

  Unwilling to step backwards, Leilani had opted to stay with Keris and Jess, occasionally helping out with Jess's carpentry jobs. Keris respected Leilani's privacy for the most part, not mentioning her failed stint with the Highmost. She did, however, tease about wanting to see her little sister settled into her own happy marriage. Leilani managed to slip away to the Manor District most days, to spend time with Brick and Zeb.

  They stepped out into the street. Zeb cleared her throat. “So, I've been bouncing around the manors, looking for a good fit, but nothing has seemed quite right. Then a couple of weeks ago, Vickers told me about Brick's Art appointment, and it got me wondering, why is Art the only manor to accept Common applicants? I mean, some Common work in Healing, Civics, and Industry, but they are all in menial positions. None of them get a chance at fellowships.

  “They say it's because Common folk can't handle the various tasks required by the manors, but I think you've proven, to me anyway, that's just ridiculous. So I started writing– apparently I'm good at writing. It's like talking, a little slower, but basically talking.

  “Anyway, I started writing this paper about all the various tasks done by the manors and how they could be accomplished by Common as well as Highmost, and when I was done,
I gave it to Vickers, just to see what he thought, and he gave it to the Highmost of Civics. . .” Zeb stopped and glanced at Leilani.

  Leilani nodded. “And then?”

  The Strains began a quick paced melody of pipes and drums.

  Zeb held up her hands. “I'm getting there! Strains, the Strains can be impatient sometimes.” She shrugged and started walking again. “Anyway, Highmost Patent asked me for a meeting, and then another meeting, and another. She likes the way I express ideas. Also, she was impressed by how you helped with the collector crisis. Your part in it hasn't been as openly talked about, so she didn't know until I told her. She asked me to put together a plan to integrate a scholarship program for Common across all six manors.”

  Leilani's mouth dropped, and her feet froze to the cobblestones.

  “Hey, out of the way!” a merchant in a horse-drawn cart shouted, and both girls scurried from the street into the courtyard of Civics Manor.

  “It needs to be approved by the Highmost Seat–”

  “But you're dating the Highmost Seat's son,” Leilani interrupted.

  Zeb blushed. “Yes. Vick thinks his father will say yes, if I can iron out any budgetary issues and think up an application process that makes sense.”

  The girls climbed the marble steps into the lobby. Clerks and junior fellows rushed about with stacks of papers, none giving the pair a second glance. Zeb and Leilani entered the poorly lit back halls that led to Vickers's office.

  “This all sounds wonderful. Can you do it? The budgetary and application issues?” Leilani asked.

  Zeb grimaced. “Apparently I am much better at 'expressing ideas' than I am about figuring out a ledger. I've never dealt with a budget in my life. Vickers has helped me a bit, but he has his own projects, and I can't depend on him to do everything for me . . . Anyway, that's what he said when it led to our first 'couple fight.' We kissed and made up, but the snapping at each other over balance sheets wasn't fun.”