Griffin's Shadow

by Leslie Ann Moore

  Jelena felt as if she had met her father’s Companion before, though she knew she had never laid eyes upon the striking red-haired sorceress until now.

  Suddenly, she remembered.

  My dream!

  “Do you know why we do not speak the true name of our adversary?” Lady Sonoe asked.

  Jelena nodded. “A thousand years ago, when the Kirians defeated the sorcerer king Onjara, they stripped him of his power and erased all references to his true name from the records,” she answered.

  Lady Sonoe could be the woman I saw in the dream, but…but then that must mean the vision showed me an ally…not an enemy. Why, then, did I feel so afraid?

  Aloud, she continued, “The Kirians did this to prevent the power of his name from falling into the wrong hands…of those who might use it to awaken him and usurp his magic for their own purposes.”

  “Very good.” Princess Taya inclined her head in approval. “Amara says you are clever and a quick study. There is much to do to prepare you, but I have no doubt that you’ll be ready. Now, there is just one final ordeal you’ll undergo today. Sonoe and I must scan you. We both need to see for ourselves just what it is that you harbor.”

  Jelena took a deep breath; she had been expecting this. “May I lie down?”

  “Of course,” Princess Taya replied. Jelena made herself comfortable, closed her eyes, and waited.

  This scan didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first one Amara had performed on her back at Kerala. Jelena found the discomfort far more bearable because of the special breathing technique her mother-in-law had taught her. Even so, she felt wrung out and a little sick afterward. She remained prone until Amara lifted her into a sitting position and pressed a cup to her lips.

  “Drink this, Daughter. It will ease you,” Amara urged. Jelena swallowed a mouthful of the pungent, bitter liquid, gagged, then forced herself to swallow again. Almost immediately, she felt better. Resting her head against Amara’s shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that clung to her mother-in-law’s skin and clothing, a profound sense of peace seeped into her bones. Briefly, Jelena wondered if this was an effect of the drug she had just ingested, but then she decided to enjoy the sensation and not question its origins.

  She allowed Amara to ease her back onto the pillows. She could hear the three women murmuring above her but it sounded more like the sighing of the sea heard from afar. She fell into a light doze, and when she awoke, she found herself lying in her own bed, still fully dressed. Someone had thoughtfully removed her shoes.

  The drug Amara had given her had the desired effect; Jelena’s fatigue and nausea-aftereffects of the mind scan-had dissipated. She felt as refreshed as if she’d slept an entire night, though the quality of the light streaming in from the bedroom window told her that no more than a couple of hours had passed, at most.

  Plenty of time to go down into the city , she thought. Ashinji had left the family quarters shortly after breakfast in order to reunite with his company and spend the day with them. Jelena did not expect to see him again until evening, so she would have to go on her own.

  No matter, it’ll be an adventure. I’d better change clothes, though. Don’t want to risk getting my fancy new outfit dirty.

  The Sakehera quarters were quiet and still as Jelena made her way downstairs. The entire family must be out, she thought as she departed and made her way to the front of the castle complex, where she paused just outside the main gates to scan the vast sweep of the parade ground. Thin wisps of cloud smeared the otherwise perfect cerulean of the sky. She glanced over at the impassive guards standing motionless at their posts. They all stared straight ahead, ignoring her. She pulled a wide-brimmed hat down on her head and set off across the empty expanse, gravel crunching beneath her boots.

  As she walked, Jelena thought about all that had transpired over the last two days, and, not for the first time, a swooping feeling of unreality seized her. The ground beneath her feet had, metaphorically, shifted so drastically that she felt uncertain if she would have the ability to walk the new terrain. She reached up to touch the familiar, comforting shape of her father’s ring, back in its accustomed place beneath her tunic. The king had returned it to her and had promised to have a smaller copy made to fit her finger.

  He had made no other promises, but this did not surprise or upset her. Jelena wanted nothing from Keizo Onjara that he did not wish to freely give her.

  It’s enough that he’s acknowledged and accepted me as his daughter.

  As for the Kirian Society, she still didn’t know what to make of them. Clearly, they believed they would soon be called upon to battle this so-called Nameless One, but Jelena had a hard time accepting that ancient, evil ghosts could rise up to menace the living world. Still, they had promised to train her to use what Talent she had, the prospect of which filled her with excitement.

  As she made her way out of the castle precincts and down into the city, the sights and sounds of the streets captured and held her full attention. Never had Jelena seen so many people gathered into one place.

  Her main objective was to find the hikui district, called Jokimichi. Ashinji had promised to escort her there himself, but she had released him from his obligation so that he might spend the entire day with his company. In lieu of his personal guidance, he had provided her with written directions, so that she could locate her destination on her own.

  She paused outside of a shop selling all types of iron implements and glanced around, getting her bearings. This must be the street of the ironmongers, she thought, noting that all the shops in the vicinity stocked similar wares. Ashinji’s directions indicated that she should walk to the end of the street and turn right at the first crossing.

  As she made her way along the street, Jelena strained to take in every detail. As children, she and Magnes had loved to look at Duke Teodorus’ big, leather-bound book about the Imperial city of Darguinia. The book contained drawings of all the architectural marvels of the ancient capital of the Soldaran Empire. Jelena could still remember the sense of wonder she had felt while thumbing through that book, imagining what it would be like to stroll Darguinia’s elegant streets.

  That childish wonder was as nothing compared to what she felt now, walking through the streets of Sendai. How the elves had managed to so thoroughly integrate their city within the confines of a mighty forest seemed nothing short of astounding. Most of the houses and shops were constructed of wood, topped with roofs of brightly glazed ceramic tiles. She saw buildings of stone as well, and even a few made of red brick, but these looked like meeting halls, rather than private homes or shops. The streets were paved in gravel with cunningly worked stone gutters and curbs.

  The people of Sendai themselves appeared to be well-fed and prosperous; Jelena soon discovered that physically, there existed a bit more variation among them than she had previously believed. The folk of Kerala all tended toward fairness of skin and eye color. Now, she saw some elven people with skins the color of bronze lamps, and a very few had complexions so dark, she thought at first that they must be of an entirely different race, but they were, indeed, elves.

  For a girl who had been raised in the insular world of a Soldaran castle, the city of Sendai seemed like the busiest, most exciting place in the known world.

  The street of the ironmongers crossed a smaller road and as Jelena turned the corner, she nearly stumbled over a boy curled in a tight little ball against the side of a building. She gasped in dismay as her foot connected with the small body, then exclaimed in shock as the child scrambled to his feet and she got a look at his face.

  He’s hikui!

  The boy stared at her for a heartbeat, then took off running.

  “Wait! Come back! I want to talk to you!” Jelena cried out, but the child quickly disappeared, lost among the throng.

  Jelena’s heart fluttered as she looked around with more deliberation, searching for other faces with humanish features.

  She spotted an old man in front of
a tavern, sweeping out the doorway, his face weatherworn and deeply furrowed. The hands that clutched the broom handle were gnarled and thickened with the joint-ill.

  Jelena stood in the shadow cast by the shop opposite the tavern and watched the old man for a time. The stoop of his shoulders, the stiffness of his movements, his shabby clothes, the way he looked downward whenever another person walked by him; all of these things Jelena took notice of and a nasty suspicion took root at the back of her mind.

  The old man finished his task and retreated into the tavern. Jelena started walking again, her eyes only confirming what her heart didn’t want to believe. She saw more hikui scattered amongst the crowds of elves, and always, they seemed to be engaged in the most menial of tasks: unloading wagons, carrying burdens behind elven masters, sweeping, washing, hauling refuse. Those that weren’t laboring appeared to be beggars. Not once did she see any elf in similar circumstances.

  It seems as though my kind aren’t treated any better here than I was back in Amsara, she thought. It’s as if I’ve had a veil over my eyes, hiding the truth, but now, the veil’s been pulled away. How naïve I’ve been! Ashi loves me and I know he only wants to protect me, but he should have been more honest about things!

  A cloud of melancholy settled over her, and the day that had started out so bright and full of excitement now seemed much more dim and sad. She contemplated returning to the castle, but quickly changed her mind when she sighted a well-dressed hikui woman at a street stall, purchasing pies.

  Jelena’s spirits lifted.

  Perhaps not all of my kind live at the bottom of elven society after all!

  The woman completed her purchases and moved along up the street. Jelena hurried after, determined not to lose sight of her.

  If I could just talk to her…I know she’ll tell me the truth.

  The woman soon turned off the main street into a narrow lane. She walked quickly; Jelena followed as close as she dared, not wishing to be too obvious in her pursuit, yet not wanting to lose her unwitting guide in the maze of small streets and alleys. She realized she had no idea how to get back to the main thoroughfare leading to the castle. She would eventually need to ask for directions; for now, though, she was content to let this woman lead her onward to whatever encounter the gods had mandated for them.

  The forest began to thin out and soon Jelena found herself in a clearing within the city. Well-kept, modest houses lined the hard-packed, dirt lanes. The people she saw were all of mixed blood.

  This must be it! I’ve found Jokimichi! She felt a rush of excitement and quickened her pace in order to catch up with her guide.

  “Excuse me please!” she called out.

  The woman had paused in a doorway, a key in her hand. She looked up as Jelena approached.

  “Yes, may I help you?” the woman said, a little smile on her lips. Her face still had much of its youthful beauty, despite the lines brought by middle age. Her dark brown hair, streaked with silver, hung down her back in a neat braid.

  “I…I…” Jelena cursed herself for her awkwardness. Why did she feel this way-shy, yet exhilarated? She wanted to fling her arms around the woman but at the same time, she wanted to flee. She stared helplessly into the kind brown eyes, too tongue-tied to speak.

  The woman set her basket down on the ground and took Jelena’s hand. Her palm felt rough and warm. “Are you ill, child? Is there something I can do for you, someone I can fetch?” she asked.

  “N…no, no,” Jelena spluttered, finding her voice at last. “I’m not ill, just lost. Well, not lost, really. I wanted to find this place, wanted to find others…”

  “Others?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, others like me…like you, mistress. I am not from around here, you see.”

  “That is abundantly clear. Your accent gives you away. I haven’t heard its like before.”

  “I’m from Soldara, mistress. My Siri-dar is not so good yet.”

  “Your Siri-dar is quite good,” the woman responded. She leaned over to pluck the basket off the ground. “Well, I suppose you’d better come in, then.” She fitted the key into a shiny brass lock, turned it, and gave the door a gentle shove with her foot. Jelena followed her into a small entry hall and waited while her hostess closed the door and set the basket down on a low table.

  “Welcome to my home,” the woman said. “I am Sateyuka.”

  Chapter 10

  The Weaver’s Tale

  Jelena snatched off her hat and sketched a quick bow. “My name is Jelena, mistress,” she replied.

  “What a lovely name,” Sateyuka said, “and so different. You are a long way from home, Jelena. How is it that you find yourself in Sendai?”

  “It is a long story, mistress.”

  Sateyuka smiled wryly and shook her head. “Please, Jelena. Call me Sateyuka. There are no masters or mistresses in this house, only hard working common folk. Come into the sitting room. I’ll make tea and we can talk.”

  Sateyuka led Jelena through a sliding door made of thin wood into a cozy little room just off the entry hall. Three low chairs, a table, and some floor cushions made up the room’s simple furnishings. An unlit fireplace anchored the wall opposite the door. Sateyuka crossed the room to throw open the shutters of the single window, letting in some of the late afternoon sunshine and fresh air. A heavy mesh screen shielded the interior of the room from passers-by.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be too long.” Sateyuka smiled and whisked from the room, brown braid swinging.

  Jelena settled into one of the chairs to wait.

  I have so many questions , she thought. Would Sateyuka be willing to answer them all? Or would she soon tire of her overeager young guest and find some excuse to send Jelena on her way?

  I suppose I’ll find out.

  Sateyuka returned quickly, bearing a teapot-whimsically shaped like a fat-bodied hen-and two cups on a wooden tray. In addition to the tea, two of the little pies that Jelena had observed her hostess purchasing just a short time ago were laid out on cloth napkins. Sateyuka set the tray down atop the table and poured each of them a cup of tea.

  “Careful, it’s hot,” she warned as she passed a cup and a pie to Jelena. She then sank into the chair opposite her guest.

  Jelena bit into the pastry with a sigh of delight, savoring the mix of honey-sweetened crushed nuts and berries. She had to stop herself from devouring the confection in a single bite.

  “I’d heard rumors there were folk of mixed blood in Soldara,” Sateyuka said. “We here in Sendai have a tightly knit community, and I know of no one who has ever had any contact with hikui from beyond the borders of Alasiri.” She paused to take a sip of her tea, and to appraise her young visitor over the rim of her cup.

  “I was born at a place called Amsara,” Jelena said, setting her teacup down on the table. She finished the pie and brushed the last crumbs from her fingers. “The duke’s only sister-my mother-died giving birth to me. My uncle could never really accept me as family because of my elven blood, but he couldn’t turn his back on me, either. He sent me to be raised in the servant’s hall. Luckily I had a foster mother and a cousin who loved me.”

  “We hear stories of how hikui are treated in the human lands, and some among us say that we should be thankful we live here in Alasiri.” Sateyuka frowned and Jelena thought she could hear the faintest trace of bitterness in the older woman’s voice.

  “It’s true that Soldarans have no places of honor or dignity in their world for mixed-bloods. The priests teach the people that elvenkind are the offspring of demons…and therefore, have no souls. They say that any child born of a mating between an elf and a human is soulless as well.” Now, Jelena’s voice trembled with bitterness. “The people of Amsara take their religion quite seriously.”

  “Is that why you fled your home? To escape ill treatment at the hands of humans?”

  “Partly so, yes. I also wanted very much to find the man who fathered me. On her deathbed, my birth m
other passed on to my foster mother a ring that she said belonged to my father. She also swore that she and my father had truly loved each other.”

  “A powerful force, love. It makes us do brave things…and foolhardy ones as well.” Sateyuka’s soft brown eyes grew hazy, as if she wandered in the country of her memories, reliving a moment in her past both painful and sweet. With a sigh, she refocused her attention on her visitor. “So, now I know part of the tale of how you came to be in Alasiri,” she said, smiling. “What brings you to Sendai? Have you reason to believe your father may be here?”

  Jelena paused, considered how much of the truth to tell Sateyuka, then decided that the facts of her elven parentage must remain close-kept until the king decided otherwise.

  “I came here with the Lord of Kerala. I am married to his younger son.”

  Sateyuka’s eyebrows shot up. “Your fortunes have risen, indeed. The House of Sakehera is old and powerful. Lord Sen is well respected among the people, okui and hikui alike. He is the only lord on the King’s Council who has spoken up in support of equal rights for our folk.” Jelena shifted uneasily in her chair, eager to ask the question that had been uppermost in her mind since she first entered Sateyuka’s small, neat house, but yet afraid of the answer.

  “I know Lord Sen and the people of Kerala are…more tolerant. This they told me themselves. Most of them accepted me, and treated me well.” With one notable exception , she thought. “But I wish to hear the truth spoken of…the truth which I can see with my own eyes as I walk the streets.”

  Sateyuka sipped her tea in silence for several heartbeats, her expression thoughtful. When at last she spoke, her response seemed careful and measured.

  “My husband Azareshu died several years ago,” she said. “He was a master weaver-one of the very best in the city-but because of the laws that forbid a person of mixed blood from becoming a member in any of the craft guilds, he was denied access to the best markets. Still, we managed. With hard work and perseverance, we built our business into one of the biggest weaving and dye shops in Sendai. That was before the fire.”