by R. K. Thorne
I never got to say… I’m so sorry about your sister.
Jaena gritted her teeth at inadvertently sharing her grief, although an ache exploded in her chest. Not. Now. She was better than this. I’m sure I can find your father. Where are your rooms?
A pause. Her heart skipped a beat. Had she scared them off already? Gods, no—she was better than this—she had to know how it was possible—she had to get—
Air mages, Miara said. One moment—hold on.
Air mages? What did that mean?
Air mages are how it’s possible. Had to speak with my… friends. Two air mages here with me. It’s air magic that forms the control spell of the brand, and air mages with the right knowledge can break the spell.
And you have two with you? Can you—
It is already done, actually. My… friend got a little overeager.
Something was off about the word “friend,” but Jaena had no time to worry about that now. She looked down at her shoulder, hoping to see some change, but it felt much the same.
That was the heat, the ice, the itching. It didn’t feel any different for me at first either. I didn’t know it had happened. Test it and you’ll see—but discreetly. You’ll notice when it doesn’t stop you, not before.
Now Jaena’s heart really did skip a beat. She could hardly believe it—she hadn’t even had to ask. She would have begged. She would have done just about anything. And yet it was already done. What could she do to test it that wouldn’t get her noticed?
As a freemage, you can do whatever you like now. But I do have a favor to ask of you.
Anything, Jaena replied. She regretted responding so quickly. But then, what price was not worth paying for her freedom?
If rumors are spreading, changes will come to Mage Hall. They will start making it harder to escape. Each mage that gets free will make it harder for the next one. If you stay for a day or two more, we can liberate others. Then you can all get out at once. More can escape that way.
I can do that. Of course. What was one more day? Although the idea of staying willingly was so ludicrous as to seem impossible, it was the least she could do to try to help a few others escape. But isn’t there something more I can do?
Another pause. Jaena waited. She glanced around. She had been standing still since the cat left her for who knew how long. Would someone think it odd? No guards were close enough to take notice. Hopefully she had a moment or two more. She started to walk, as slowly as she could imagine possible, to look a little more natural.
Look for ways to hurt them, if you can do it without risking your freedom. Make it easier for others to escape. Information we could use against them in the future is useful, anything on current preparations, supply levels, even the number of mages training with you. But don’t tell anyone about this. The rumors do not help. They will get back to the Masters, and they’ll use the information against us. But if you do have someone close to you—
I have a few friends here. Not many. Not without Dekana.
A pause. She wondered if Miara could feel the swelling of grief, for the creature mage continued just as the tide of emotion ebbed. Menaha, at least. Choose anyone else you need to. We can free mages only by the starlight. Get them to come outside at night, and we’ll find them and do what we can.
Outside, at night? You’re right. If the Masters know of that, it will be easy to stop.
Indeed. So don’t tell.
How long should I wait?
Another pause. Two days’ time. Leave after sunset—not tomorrow, but the day after. We should be able to free a few more between now and then. And if you hear any news of my father—
I will seek it out after my workday is finished tomorrow, said Jaena.
Head toward the Akarian border. The city of Anonil. There is an inn with an apple and an arrow on the sign. We will get someone there to meet you.
Thank you, she whispered with more gratitude than she could remember having ever had for anything in her life.
May the Balance protect you. And with that, the presence was gone. Jaena turned on her heel, headed toward Kae’s rooms. The earlier in the night she got there, the better. Time to concoct a story to get him to meet her after dark, something that wouldn’t make him think her in love with him, without telling him anything about what had just happened. Oh, that should be easy. That man loved rumors almost as much as fruit pies. Maybe more. Still, he was one of her only friends. And she wouldn’t be out here in the darkness getting lucky if it wasn’t for him.
Then she would find Menaha. Then sleep. Two days couldn’t pass quickly enough.
4
The Taste of Freedom
Miara had just gotten into the bath when Camil timidly announced, “Prince Aven is here to see you, my lady. Shall I ask him to return later?”
“No! Uh—we can speak through the door like this.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Miara! Did it work?”
She laughed. He’d passed out on Wunik’s shoulder without even seeing the fruits of his labor. “Yes, Aven,” she called through the door. “It worked. We must send someone to meet her at the Apple and Arrow in Anonil. Do you remember it?”
“How could I forget?” They had stayed one delicious night there on their return. He hadn’t overexaggerated his fondness for apple dumplings. “I’ll have a scout sent there.”
“You need to learn not to drain yourself to incapacitation like that.”
“Ah, well, I had to sleep. What difference does it make, eh?”
Well, perhaps we could have slept together, she thought. Or at least stolen a kiss good night. Or… something.
She’d woken up reaching across the blankets for him. She’d missed him, as silly as that seemed after such a short separation. Surprising that after only a few days, she expected his presence in the morning. Longed for it. And this morning, he hadn’t been there.
Jaena’s freedom was worth it, she chided herself for the hundredth time. Aven has his priorities in the proper order. “With an air mage to assist you—two, in fact, with Derk—you don’t need to be incapacitated in the future. It’s unnecessarily risky. You could have taken… longer than one night to wake up.” You could have not woken up at all, she wanted to add. But Wunik would teach him that. Aven usually passed out long before then, and both she and the elder were there to monitor their young student for now as he learned.
“I know, I know. I’m overeager. I never claimed otherwise.” She snorted to herself. He might be overeager as a mage and rescuer, but he didn’t seem to be overeager about everything, as her empty bed this morning had attested.
“Complacent and lazy, you are not,” she said instead.
“How are the clothes they’ve gotten you?”
“They’re… fine. Very fine, indeed.”
“But you don’t like them.” Damn, how did he know? Her search for a word betrayed her.
“I didn’t say that.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
She hesitated. “You are all giving me so much. I cannot complain over something so silly as clothes.”
“Silly? Hmm.”
“She thinks they aren’t practical, my lord,” Camil interjected.
“Camil!” Miara put her hand over her face and rubbed her eyes.
“Thank you, Camil. Can you find—or make—some things more practical but still of the proper caliber?”
“The only one I’ve ever known who wore dresses like that was… the Mistress.” She hated to even go so far as to say her name in this safe place, but the dresses hanging in the closet made her think only of the hateful woman. “But I’m not going to let her ruin them all for me forever. I could just use more… variety.”
“That’s good to hear,” Aven said. “Of course she shouldn’t ruin anything for you forever.”
“I had thought to imitate Warden Asten, my lord. Would that be fitting?” Camil said.
“Perfect.”
“If I may, I’ll take your leave to sp
eak with Steward Fayton immediately.”
“Thank you, Camil. I don’t want our guest to be uncomfortable any longer than necessary.”
She winced. “I am far from uncomfortable!” she shouted. “I can wear them just fine! I’ll wear burlap sacks and be damn happy about it!”
“Your breakfast is on its way, my lady, and there are two attendants in the seating room should you need assistance dressing.”
“I’ll wait for her out here,” Aven said, more to Camil than to Miara.
Was this a chance to steal a moment or two to themselves? Certainly not with her stuck here with suds on her knees in the bath. She rinsed the rest of the soap off hastily, stood, and climbed from the bathing pool. She dried herself imperfectly and threw the towel around her.
She searched the bathroom for more towels or some sort of robe. She found a shift hanging on a hook but couldn’t remember if it was the one she’d worn the night before or a fresh one. Well, no matter. The dirt of one night was nothing to being out on the road or how long she wore things at Mage Hall, but people seemed to have higher standards here. She would put on something else shortly.
“Yes, uh, you can leave it there. That’s fine,” she heard Aven saying with a cough to clear his throat.
The door clicked shut again just as Miara opened hers. The thin shift was not something she would have worn in front of anyone else, but it was appropriate enough to wear before Camil returned to dress her. She winced at the thought. She could dress herself, thank you very much. But if it was an excuse to share some small intimacy with Aven… it was worth it.
A tray of tea, cheese, and dumplings sat before the fireplace in the outer room. Aven’s eyes locked with hers with a smoldering intensity. She answered only with a small smile.
“You’re cruel, you know that?” He smiled back.
She nodded as she came closer and leaned against the doorframe between the two rooms, letting the shift reveal what it pleased. “You like it, though.”
He snorted but did not deny it.
“Did I mention I told the mage to wait?” she said.
“Wait?” he said, coming closer himself.
“The one you freed. I told her not to leave yet.”
“Why by the gods did you tell her that?” He glanced around the outer room and, apparently seeing no one, stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. She returned the embrace, at least for a moment. Who knew how long they had till Camil or one of the others came back? Would they really be able to hide this from their attendants anyway? Aven visiting her rooms at all would certainly invite suspicion. He tucked his head against her neck and her hair and breathed deep, taking her in. Ah, now this was the overeagerness she’d spent the first few hours of last night longing for. Or at least something close to it. His scent caught her nose—musk and wood smoke.
“Well, you were already out and sleeping like a baby on Wunik’s shoulder, so I couldn’t exactly consult you. Escaping will get harder for each mage that tries. If you can rely on others for the energy, perhaps we can free more than one a night. I thought several could try to make a run for it at once.”
He nodded, his face still buried in the hair of her shoulder. “When did you tell her to leave?” His hands ran down her back, circling around her hips. They should stop. Perhaps a moment longer.
“Tomorrow night. Should give us at least tonight and perhaps part of tomorrow. Think you can cooperate to perhaps free two or three? Maybe teach someone else how to do it?”
He pulled away, smiling sheepishly. “Well, when you put it that way, I can.”
“It’s fine. One more mage is free today that wasn’t yesterday. Tonight, we aim for more.”
He nodded. “I have to tend to administrative things this morning—duties that a certain kidnapper kept me from are now far overdue. But you can explore Estun. There’s nothing off-limits to you here.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. You’ll be queen here someday, Miara. I promise you. You can do anything you like.”
She swallowed. She was not as sure about that as he was, but she was certainly willing to go down that road and see where it ended. “Huh. Anything…” Anything at all. She’d never had a day where she could do absolutely anything, at least not since she was very small. What in the world would she do?
“Hopefully I can find you at noon, and we can eat together. I’ll send word with Fayton if I can’t.” He released her and stepped away. They had gambled for long enough, it was true.
“Is it wise to spend so much time with an insignificant guest like me? People will start to talk. What about your other visitors? Don’t you need to attend to them too?”
“I’m simply showing my gratitude to my rescuer. Let them talk.”
“I don’t know if your father would prefer to hear you say that.”
He frowned. “Most likely not. He’d probably prefer I wasn’t here now either, though.”
She looked away, off into the fire. “We should talk to him about this idea of his again. It’s—” She groped for better objections than she’d been able to come up with on the spot. “It’s not fair to lead on suitors, if they have no chance. And wouldn’t it help people to trust me if they knew I’d already earned your trust?”
His frown deepened. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure how perfectly they trust me at the moment either. They are right that our news might be… a lot to handle at once. Probably too much.”
“So you agree with them?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Well, maybe. Some of it. It’s not what I would do if I were king. But if you hadn’t noticed, I have a tendency to put principle over practicality at times. And I’m not terribly experienced at this whole ‘ruling a kingdom’ thing.”
“You seem like you have good enough instincts to me.” Her turn to frown. “Just because your father has spent more years on the throne doesn’t mean he always knows better than you.”
He shrugged. “But it does mean he gets to order me around. Mostly. But, hey, I’m just talking about lunch, not plowing the fields on the banquet tables.” She snorted at that image, although a momentary thrill at the idea shot through her. He grinned back. “As fun as that might be.” His eyes ran over her again. The risk of the shift had been worth it. “I don’t think he can object to a simple lunch. But I can invite the dvora, if you wish. Or Warden Asten. Or Devol. I think you’ll like them all.”
Miara doubted that, but she kept it to herself. “If we wish to keep this secret, then the more the merrier.” As if to spite herself, her voice came out dour and utterly unenthusiastic, and he let out a bark of laughter. He stepped forward, as if he meant to embrace her again.
Click. The now familiar turn of the doorknob almost made her groan—almost.
Camil bustled in, several outfits in hand, humming to herself, and oblivious to them.
Miara glanced at Aven with laughing eyes, and he returned her amused expression. She stepped back so they were no longer clearly able to see each other. Might as well make an effort, if this secret was to be kept. For now.
“We’ll speak later,” he said on the other side of the door, his voice sweet and warm even as his words were formal. “You’re free, Miara. Enjoy it.” And with a dozen heavy thuds of boots on the floor, he was gone.
Camil plied her with new choices that the young lady seemed sincerely excited about.
“Where are these all coming from?” Miara asked, amused by Camil’s enthusiasm.
“Well, I had the foresight to tell some of the seamstresses to start on a few things yesterday. Tunics are rather quick to make, you know.”
“No, I’ve never sewn a thing in my life.”
“Is that so? Well, yes, they’re fairly simple. And also Warden Asten was willing to part with a few pieces.”
Well, that was mortifying. Miara winced. “So… you begged these from the warden?”
“Oh, no, I purchased them from her for a generous price. And then she can get her own new pieces. Delight for everyb
ody, don’t you think?”
Miara had no idea if that was delightful or horrifying. Asten seemed widely respected, however, so if she had to literally wear the dress of another, it might as well be the warden’s. Miara let Camil choose the eventual outfit and was rewarded with a stormy blue-gray leather dress, the bodice fitting snugly over a white chemise. Yes, good colors, Akarian colors. Camil again insisted on having her way with Miara’s hair, and as she sat, Miara considered what she should do with a morning all to herself.
How to prove herself to these people, become one of them? She couldn’t even imagine ruling them, but perhaps if she felt like one of them, the idea would become clearer. Aven and Elise certainly didn’t seem to have any trouble with the notion. This was also a rare opportunity to make her own choices for once. And then there were her people—her father, Luha, the others. What else could she be doing to help them?
She smiled to herself. She knew exactly where to start.
Before she headed out on her own, she had one request for Camil. “Can you get me some… pots?”
“Pots, my lady?” Her delicate bronze features didn’t try to hide their frown of confusion.
“Um, yes. Pots for plants. Of soil.”
“Plants?”
“No. No plants. Just pots. With soil in them, but without plants.” Miara didn’t know how to better explain. Camil shrugged and nodded. “Dead plants are fine,” Miara added, trying to be helpful but starting to realize by the look Camil gave her that that might have sounded a little strange. No matter. Camil would understand when Miara was through with them.
She took a hesitant step out of the room. She could feel Camil’s eyes on her back, ready to come to her aid. But this was something Miara needed to do alone. She had no idea which direction she was going. And she liked it. The only way to learn her way around here would be to jump in. Before Camil could speak up, she turned abruptly, choosing a direction at random, and headed down the hallway.
She would find her way around this place. She’d become one of them. She’d make a home here. It had to start somewhere.