by Leigh, J.
“Whatever gets us there,” Jathen said, tightening his grip around Mikkal’s shoulders.
Though the ride was shorter than in the carriage that had brought him to Nosalia’s the first time, Jathen was infinitely grateful when they landed near a small stream. He spotted the low glow of the estate in the distance, perhaps a fifteen-minute walk across a field.
Back on his own feet, Jathen stretched his tired arms. “Why did you put down so far from the house?”
“I might be Clan and a Talent, Jathen, but energy cannot be created nor destroyed, only redirected. I’ve been redirecting quite a bit for some time now. I need a rest, and I’d also much rather walk into Nosalia’s fully recharged on the chance my wayward ward wishes to have another chat with either of us.” Mikkal took off one glove and slipped his white hand into the little stream. “Ah, much better.” Jathen’s dubious expression must have shown clear even in the dark because Mikkal chuckled and said, “Recall when I said energy is energy and it doesn’t matter what one draws from? Well, some of us draw from one element a little bit more efficiently than others.” He pulled out his hand, flexing it, and not a single bead of moisture glistened on it. “Mine is water.”
“If that’s the case, I would have thought you more useful during our little flood,” Jathen muttered.
“So would I,” Mikkal answered, not commenting on the acid in Jathen’s tone. “You were there, and then you were not. I’m still uncertain as to what happened.”
A troubling thought jumped into Jathen’s brain. “You don’t think Sister had something to do with that, do you?”
“The water’s reaction was similar to the bursting of the Nhr in the story and later the Nai’dol,” Mikkal allowed. “But that would indicate either she found a way to inadvertently trigger Hatori’s half of the Artifact, or perhaps she does indeed have the second half. Though it would not explain your odd disappearance and reemergence hundreds of bounds south.”
“But it might mean Hatori wasn’t the one to cause the earthquakes. Maybe she’s had that portion this whole time and has been searching for the second half. Maybe she wants to hide something, not find it.”
“I know you wish to believe the best of your friend,” Mikkal said tentatively, “but trust me, Jathen, if Sister had this thing all this time, she would have used it more in the last thirty years. And I know her well. She is trying to find something. A very important something.”
“Well, maybe it doesn’t work right if she doesn’t have both halves.” He noticed Mikkal’s taxed expression and knew he was being a bit of an ungrateful ass at the moment, despite all his reasonable reservations. “I’m sorry, Mikkal. It’s just—”
“No apologies, Jathen. Your anger is warranted.”
Jathen huffed. Mikkal’s easy manner was actually more irritating than comforting. Perhaps I just want to be angry at someone, and right now, the adopted father of Sister is all I’ve got. “You rested up enough yet?” Jathen asked in a nicer tone. “I know I’m going to feel edgy until I’m there. For that matter, I’m not sure how much longer I can go before I drop.”
“I’m ready enough.”
As they neared the sprawling estate, Jathen silently admitted it was good they’d foregone descending from above. True to her nature, Nosalia had thrown open her doors to any who needed aid, and a full shanty town of makeshift tents and shelters had set up around the home. Guards moved about the canvas city, walking the aisles between tents with an air almost as weary as Jathen’s.
“Her personal guard or mercenaries?” Mikkal asked, but Jathen had no answer. “Well, we’ll just say hello then.”
Recalling what happened the last time he’d willingly walked over to a few Tazu guards, Jathen did his best not to panic. He stayed in place while Mikkal walked over and casually conversed with the first pair he came across. After a few moments, Mikkal beckoned Jathen over.
“Yep, blond with weird eyes.” One of the Lu’shun guards nodded, peering with a disconcerting scrutiny at him. “He’s definitely the one we were told to look out for.” Jathen and Mikkal exchanged uncertain glances, but the guard didn’t seem overly concerned. “Here, I’ll walk you up to the house.”
“Thank you,” Mikkal stated evenly, following along. “Though a touch of discretion would be appreciated.”
“Mister, I work for a Clanswoman. Discretion is in my job description.”
Jathen made it all the way to the door, but there his legs wobbled and he was forced to sit on the top step. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t walk any more right now.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” the guard said. “I’ve seen the like for days now.” He turned to Mikkal. “Stay here, and I’ll fetch the lady.”
“Just tired?” Mikkal asked, looking worried.
Before Jathen could respond, a high-pitched squeal came from the doorway.
“Oh, by Spirit in heaven, Jathen!” Nosalia looked much the same as when he’d last seen her, though her garb was practical, the cut of the brown dress meant more for ease of movement than accentuating curves. She knelt beside Jathen, her golden eyes concerned, and pulled him into a hug. “Half the ruddy continent is looking for you!” Glancing about, she asked, “Where’s…?”
Jathen opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
Reading his expression, Nosalia cried, “All of them?”
Still unable to speak, all Jathen could do was cry, falling into the crux of her arm with a shuddering sob.
“Oh, Jathen, Jathen,” she murmured. “Come, dear boy. Let’s get you inside, and I’ll send word you’ve been found.”
“No,” he squeaked, drawing away from her.
Nosalia stared at him, her red-rimmed eyes cloudy and confused. “What? Why?”
“He has claw wounds on him,” Mikkal said. “From a Tazu.”
A flash of protective vengeance burned in her eyes, and Jathen felt he’d made the correct choice in coming to her. Turning a more guarded and obviously suspicious gaze upon the Clansman, she asked, “And who is your gray-clad escort, Jathen?”
“A friend. From before, on the road. He saved Ass’shiri and me then. And he got me here now.”
“Very well.” The Clanswoman nodded at her kinsman then extended a hand to Jathen. “Let’s get you rested, my little love, and then you can tell me what has happened.” She lifted him with little effort, a startling reminder that she was a thousand-year-old woman with power throughout her body and soul.
Nosalia tucked him into a huge bed with cream and pink sheets in a private room, quite the luxury considering the refuges milling about in every crevice of the place. But for once, Jathen did not rail over the idea of pulling rank. Wrapped in safety, he did the only thing he was physically and emotionally able to do. Jathen slept.
He awoke only twice in the course of nearly forty-eight hours. Each time, Nosalia served him only a single glass of warm milk. Though he suspected there was another of Mikkal’s herbal additions mixed in that aided in his dreamless slumber, he was grateful.
Finally, Nosalia’s voice roused him, a telepathic nudge between his ears.
Jathen, she said as he groggily opened his eyes, there are Tazu here, looking for you. Do you want me to send them away?
The words jolted him awake, and he sat up quickly, much to the dismay of his heavy head. Who are they? Is it my mother? Did they give any names?
Lord Bertrandith Larsenitiss.
Jathen felt his heart both sink and flutter. “It shall be my utmost pleasure to stare into your father’s eyes and tell him you’re dead,” Skaniss had said. “I might be forbidden to touch him, but by Spirit, I will break him with this.” A lifetime of emotions did battle inside Jathen, a cresting wave breaking against the events of the last few days.
No one else is with him? he asked Nosalia, hoping for something to turn
the tide. Not my mother or my sister, Thee?
Just a gaggle of royal guard, she replied. Decide quickly, dear. I can only pretend to be helping refugees for so long.
Let him know about Jephue and Hatori. Jathen sat up and put his feet on the floor. But beyond that, say you haven’t heard from me.
It’s better to mix lies and truth if you are going to deceive, dear. I’ll tell them you were here but left a while back to help in the city. All right?
Perfect.
He slipped from the room and found an unobtrusive place at the curve of the stairs to watch. It was a fine hiding spot, as he could just catch Bertran’s face as Nosalia spoke to him, though he could not hear the words. The silver-blue Tazu flinched as she spoke.
“He seems genuinely concerned for you, doesn’t he?” Mikkal said from a step above him.
Stifling a start at the Clansman’s unexpected and soundless arrival, Jathen didn’t answer right away. He watched with torn emotions as Bertran took his leave. The expression Jathen caught on the Tazu’s face was nothing short of restrained sorrow. But is it for me or for my mother that you hang your head, Lord Larsenitiss? “He’s the brother of the one who attacked me and the son of the one who very well might have ordered it.” And perhaps, the hidden father I’ve always hated. “I’m not apt to trust him just yet.”
“Wise,” Mikkal assessed.
Nosalia came up the stairs in a flutter of silks. “Oh, I might have over a thousand years of twisting words and playing politics in me, but by Spirit, I did not like deceiving that one.” Taking in Jathen’s wounded face, she sighed. “Are you certain, love?”
“No. That’s why I had you send him away.”
She stroked Jathen’s hair. “I’m afraid I don’t have very good news for you, dear. Come, let us discuss this more privately.” She ushered them the rest of the way up the steps. “My personal study is over here on the right, and it’s warded to keep out listeners.”
The room was cozy and wood lined, from the wainscoting all the way to the heavily beamed ceiling. A desk trimmed smartly in green marble filled most of the floor space, but there were some extra chairs, the arrangement reminiscent of Hausmannith’s study back home. Jathen and Mikkal sat in the chairs.
Nosalia closed the door before she took her own seat. “Mikkal has briefed me on everything the two of you have discussed.” She cocked her head. “When’s the last time you had a proper meal, child?”
“I… I can’t remember. But, Nosalia…” he began to protest when she moved to leave, only to receive a glare that would have stopped even Hatori’s heart midbeat.
She stood. “We Clan serve Rhean first, my little love. So no matter how long I’ve lived here or how beholden I am to my Beleskie, it is my sworn duty, honor, and utmost debt to Hatori and Jephue to see to it that you are taken care of and protected, on all levels of your being. Is that understood?”
Jathen nodded. “Yes, Lady.”
“Good. Now, let me go get you something from the kitchen, and then we can talk.”
“Reminds me of my mother, interestingly enough,” Mikkal commented once she was gone. “Considering I only knew her until I was five.”
“She reminds me of what my sister would be like if she were my mother.” Jathen sniffed, finding Hatori’s sword cane, Ass’shiri’s crossbow, and the rest of his belongings under his chair.
Nosalia returned with a hearty stew made of hersha meat, vegetables, and potatoes, the kind of warm comfort food that was welcome after a long day. And it had been a long, horrible string of days. Jathen hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he smelled that wonderful stew. He downed the first bowl while Nosalia and Mikkal sat in an awkward silence. Either they’re having a telepathic chat without me, or they don’t like each other very much, Jathen concluded between slurps.
After serving him a second portion, Nosalia finally said, “I must admit, love, there are things that I do know about this situation but cannot speak of.”
Jathen frowned, a fluttering of angry flame flickering in his chest. “Can’t or won’t?” He pushed the bowl away. “Nosalia—”
She stopped him with a raised hand and glanced at Mikkal. “I cannot speak too much upon it, Jathen, not without doing you harm.”
“Are you serious? People have died…”
“For hearing even less on this subject than you have,” she said. “But let us just say that rumors about Clan individuals charged with the investigation and procurement of Artifacts are not so farfetched as most would lead you to believe.”
“Let me guess,” Jathen said, feeling slightly agitated by her patronizing tone, good intentions notwithstanding. “You, Mikkal, and most likely Hatori, and definitely at one time this Little Sister were all mixed in with or were direct members of this Artifact-gathering group. Am I right?”
Mikkal snickered. “He is a sharp one.”
Jathen glared at him. “You never actually explained why a Gray, tied to the imperial court, would be keeping ‘a loose eye,’ as you put it, on Hatori. A third-party allegiance makes the most sense.”
Nosalia said, “For me, not so much directly, no. I was always more indirectly involved, at least until recent events.”
“And Hatori?” Jathen asked.
“To my knowledge, he was never truly aware that such an organization even existed.” Her red lips twitched. “Though I know he suspected such, as well as my connection to it.”
Mikkal said, “Actually, he was offered membership and declined it.”
Both Jathen and Nosalia blinked at him.
Nosalia asked, “How would you know this?” only just edging out Jathen’s surprised exclamation of, “Why would he do that?”
Mikkal shrugged. “I’m rather well informed within our little group, despite being a somewhat newer member. As far as Chann’s reluctance… well, all I know of that was the timing, and I can draw certain assumptions from there. It was a recent offer.”
Nosalia nodded. “His inadvertent integration into the Tazu court after the Kidwellith quake.”
“That wasn’t that recent,” Jathen blurted, then rolled his eyes as he recalled the company he was keeping. “Oh, right, Clan recent. Never mind. But why would he turn down something like that, with all the conspiracy smoke and mirrors he loved so much?”
“Without going into details,” Nosalia said carefully, “I can immediately think of two very good reasons. For one, this group is not solely involved in gathering Artifacts but takes its hand to other aspects of the world as well—commerce, politics, science. Its reach is rather extensive, as well as its power, and it did nothing to stop A’ron De’contes when he did what he did.”
“That’s not the purpose of it, to interfere in such things.”
“I know,” Nosalia said to Mikkal. “But you were not there, not even born. It would take a lot of explanation to make their inaction bearable, too much for a new initiate to possibly receive. Hatori was too old and had lived with that hurt too long to accept such a yoke, even with the promise of knowledge to come. That would have not have sat well with him, to know they had the power to halt it and had done nothing.”
Mikkal nodded. “That was my assumption.”
“And the other reason?” Jathen asked.
Nosalia smiled thinly. “His friendships with your family were genuine, Jathen.”
Jathen pursed his lips, solemn. “And joining this group of yours would have made him a spy among us.”
She nodded sadly. “Yes. I knew Hatori a long time. He understood the value of real friendships and would not have betrayed them lightly.”
“So in the end, he chose honor over knowledge,” Jathen murmured. “Honor and love, friendship and Jephue.”
“Yes, he did.”
Jathen shook his head, the ember in his chest blazing. “Then why
is he dead? Why was he killed if he wasn’t even a part of any of this? Why was I taken and interrogated? Why is Ass’shiri dead?” He expected Nosalia to answer, but she deferred to Mikkal.
“What Sister is ultimately looking for…” Mikkal cleared his throat. “What she wants the Bree Artifact to find is not a natural resource.”
Jathen frowned. “What is it then?”
Nosalia and Mikkal exchanged glances, and both shook their heads.
“It’s too dangerous to tell you, Jathen,” Nosalia said. “You’d need to take a vow, and it’s too much to ask of you, and neither Mikkal nor I have the authority to tell you without it.”
“We can say that it’s bad, though,” Mikkal added. “Very, very bad.” He looked a bit disturbed. “To put it in realistic terms, our group would shed about as much blood to keep Sister from finding it as she would in order to obtain it, which is why we must find the Bree Artifact and cut off her ability to find it.”
“Can this supposed Bree Artifact find whatever it is she’s looking for, though?” Jathen turned to Nosalia. “I thought it was only used to find natural resources, like with the amber mine.”
She winced. “It seems an assumption was made that half of the Artifact was used to detect my mine. I financed the dig as an archeological survey, but when they discovered the amber vein, another aspect of our group suggested timing be taken into account before revealing its presence.”
“So that’s how Hatori knew.” Jathen nodded, glad to know his friend had been truthful about at least one thing. “Because you knew from the beginning. But your group doesn’t communicate with each other very much, do they? Or you two would have known that.”
“Yes and no.” Nosalia sighed, exchanging glances yet again with her kinsman and making Jathen wonder if they really were having a secondary telepathic conversation in front of him. “As I said, I’ve always been indirectly involved and with different aspects of the group. We also just simply don’t know who each other are most of the time.”