by Becky Allen
Twill were the caste between Avowed and Closest—they weren’t cursed by the Highest but weren’t favored by them, either.
“The Order is actually quite ancient,” Lenni continued. “We are older than the Highest, older than the Closest. We are older than the Well itself, our members forming an unbroken chain back through history. Here. Look at this, but be careful with it.”
She’d pulled something from one of the cart’s packs and handed it to Elan. It was a sheaf of papers, ancient and brittle and yellowed, but Jae couldn’t read the lines scribbled on them. No one would ever bother to teach a Closest how to read.
Elan could, though, and after a moment he stared up at Lenni. “This is about magecraft!”
“Yes, it is,” Lenni said. “We’ve been keeping it, and many other texts, safe for generations.”
Elan shuffled to another page, then another, and stopped. “I’ve seen writing like this before, but I can’t read it.”
“I can,” Lenni said. “Somewhere in there is a key—to help translate the mage script to something legible. There’s another script, too, unfortunately, but it’s ancient. From before the time of the Well’s founding. If we ever had a key to read it, that was lost long ago.”
Elan set the sheaf of papers down in his lap, keeping them safe from the wind as the cart continued to rattle its way down the path, heading toward the main road. “How do you have all this?”
“I told you, the Order is very, very old. Back before the War, it was a group of teachers and historians. It kept records, wrote books on magic…there was so much information back then, but it’s gone now. All we have left are a few pieces and what knowledge was passed down, person to person. We try to find and teach as many mages as we can, but—”
“There are no other mages,” Jae said.
The woman shook her head. “You’re incorrect about that, Lady Mage. They’re rare. Most of them aren’t very powerful, but there are a few in every generation, and I know of one now, other than you. You see, it’s…well. The Highest did something, generations ago, to keep themselves and their Avowed from having any kind of mage power. And the Curse seems to be a fetter for the Closest’s power, because there haven’t been any Closest mages since the War. Except you, of course.”
“Of course,” Jae repeated. Lenni wasn’t quite right, but she was close. One of the Closest had sealed their power away so the Highest wouldn’t gain control of it.
“The Order didn’t fight in the War, but I think they were wrong not to get involved. Back then, everyone knew that the Closest crafted the Well. It was theirs by right, and they shared its water with anyone who needed it. Until the Highest tried to seize it.”
Jae gasped, and even Elan looked shocked. Lenni knew the truth. And from the way she smiled at their reaction, she knew they knew it, too.
“After they won, the Highest consolidated their power. They cast the Curse, enslaved their enemies,” Lenni continued. “They wouldn’t let anyone threaten their power. But the Order’s mages were a threat.”
“Naturally,” Elan said. “If they ever did decide to get involved, they could start another war. The Highest would never let a threat like that go, but…”
“And they didn’t.” Lenni’s expression went grim. “There used to be Twill mages, too—a lot of them, actually, before and right after the War. The Order ran magic schools that trained them. Most of its people were found at one of them or another. One night, with no warning, the Highest attacked. In that one night, nearly every member of the Order was killed and much of their knowledge lost—their books, all their records, torched. So no one would find them and learn the truth.
“Those who escaped had to hide, and had to pass down their knowledge in secret. To this day, the Highest know they’re out there, and any mage they find, they slaughter.”
“You’re not a mage, though,” Jae said.
“No, but my mother was, and I…” She shook her head. “I grew up knowing about the Order, and that there were only a few of us left. So I’ve been growing it, reaching beyond mages to find more people who are frustrated by the Highest’s rule. We have spies, and plans, and we’ve been preparing for years. Now, with your magic to help us, Lady Mage, we can end this once and for all. End the Highest’s rule, and help you break the Curse. If you’ll just work with us.”
Jae leaned back in the cart, staring at Lenni. Lenni wasn’t frowning now, but she looked intense, almost desperate, and she knew the truth. She knew mages, knew about magic, and she knew history. Jae and Elan had been on their own, but Lenni had allies and resources and plans. And they wanted the same thing.
Jae caught Lenni’s eye and nodded. “I will.”
Elan inhaled the scent of cooked lamb, relaxed on the cushion, and felt a little guilty at enjoying the luxury. Being in a real household again after so long was such a relief. He and Jae had been traveling for weeks—longer, if he counted their trek through the desert—and they’d spent the whole time creeping around, usually camping on the ground. He’d tried not to complain, but it hadn’t been a comfortable trip.
They’d traveled for two days, heading toward the central cities with Lenni and her group, and had finally reached the town where Palma lived, now that she’d moved out of Danardae.
“I’m sure this is nothing near what you’re used to, Highest,” Palma said, after handing Elan a plate. She’d told her few servants that she’d take care of the guests herself and banished them to elsewhere in the house or out on errands.
“Elan,” he corrected. “I have no title anymore, and this…this smells wonderful.”
Palma smiled at him.
“I don’t understand how you could be involved with the Order without breaking your vows,” Jae said.
It took Palma a moment to unravel. Jae almost never came out and asked questions—Elan was used to it, but it was a strange way of speaking.
“Well, it’s…I…” Palma trailed off.
“It’s a delicate matter.” Lenni strode into the room where they were eating and took up the last cushion. She’d sent the other members of the Order away, too, back to their regular lives. Most of them were Twill, who couldn’t afford to vanish from their work for very long or they’d be noticed. “We’re careful. Only a very few Avowed know of us, and we certainly wouldn’t let just anyone join.”
Lenni set a thick stack of papers down on the table, then helped herself to some of the meal.
“But if the Highest discover you, you’ll be declared a vow-breaker,” Jae said.
Palma gave a tiny, nervous shrug. “It’s a messy business, but…but the Highest took what was mine. My estate, my home! As if it were nothing.”
Ah. Elan set his meal aside, guilt gnawing at him, and explained, “Palma’s estate, Lanadann, was abandoned before your home was, Jae. All the Avowed were sent elsewhere, given other duties, and…they weren’t all pleased about it. And when I asked about it…”
“You were banished to Aredann, and your cursed sister had me kicked out of Danardae and sent me here,” Palma said, gesturing around. “I never even got to say goodbye to you. Never got to thank you for…for trying.”
Jae didn’t look terribly impressed by her plight.
Palma turned to Jae. “No one else cared about Lanadann at all, and now it’s nothing. You can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Jae snorted. Elan said gently, “Actually, she can. Aredann was abandoned, too, and Jae…she gave up everything to save the Closest who were still trapped there.”
“Oh,” Palma said. She examined Jae for the first time.
“I’m sure if it came down to it, Palma would defy the Highest,” Elan continued, now to Jae. “She questioned them even before I did.”
He shot Palma a quick smile and she ducked her head a little, but he could see her smiling, too—an expression that had once made his heart race. With her hazel eyes and hair in long twists that fell past her shoulders, she was one of the most beautiful women Elan had ever seen.
; He’d barely thought of her at all after arriving at Aredann, though. The infatuation had faded once he’d been away from her—for all her smile was still beautiful, he didn’t feel much of anything at it.
Jae glanced back and forth between him and Palma for a moment, raising her eyebrows just slightly, but didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t say anything at all, actually, just waited. It was almost unnerving how good she was at waiting silently for someone to speak.
“Then…then your father told his Avowed you were dead,” Palma finally continued. “I couldn’t…” She took a breath; her voice steadied. “Then Lenni told me the rumors. That it was all false and you were disavowed. I was so relieved. And I’m happy for you to stay here as long as you’d like—both of you, of course.”
“Thank you,” Elan said.
“We won’t be long,” Jae said, and took a mouthful of lamb. At Lenni’s surprised glance, she said, “We have to reach the central cities. In secret.”
“We can help with that,” Lenni said. “We’ll help you with anything you need.”
Jae nodded a little and didn’t volunteer more information. Elan wondered if she didn’t trust Lenni fully enough to tell her their plan, or if she just didn’t realize Lenni wanted to know. Jae wasn’t used to dealing with people who weren’t Closest yet. The Closest were always honest—they had no choice; the Curse forced them to tell the truth—and so they were straightforward about everything except asking questions. Jae herself was blunt to a fault and often missed the nuances of what people said to her.
Lenni cleared her throat. “Well, here are the rest of the texts that I have on hand, Elan. And here”—she slid the page from the top of the pile—“is the key.”
Elan accepted the paper, a brittle page with the alphabet he knew written along one line, and a series of symbols and letters he didn’t know underneath it. They felt a little familiar; he’d seen pages full of them before, but he hadn’t been able to read any of it. Now he would, though it would be slow going until reading this new script became instinct.
“Thank you,” he said, and paged through the rest of the papers—carefully. Some seemed so old they might crumble if he handled them too roughly. Those were the ones with the ancient script Lenni had described. Something about it seemed familiar, just a little, but he couldn’t quite place it and he certainly couldn’t read it.
“The central cities,” Lenni said, as Elan pushed the papers far enough away to eat without risking dripping anything on them. “What is it you need from them?”
Jae glanced up from her food, irritated, and Elan jumped in quickly. “It’s actually considered very rude to ask direct questions of a Closest. Because of the compulsion to answer.”
“Ah. Forgive me,” Lenni said, bowing her head a little. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” Jae said, and then after another moment, she continued, “There’s a knife. The Curse is bound to it, so to break the Curse, it must be destroyed. We don’t know where it is, but Elan thinks it must be in the central cities.”
“I can get you all in,” Palma said, voice going high, almost a question. “If…I mean, Lord Nallis Kavann, his vow ceremony is in only a week or so. I’m going to attend—all Avowed are invited, even those of us who are out of favor. It wouldn’t be out of place for me to bring a few servants with me. And with so many people traveling into the cities for the ceremony, they won’t have time to really, thoroughly check everyone.”
“That’s a good idea,” Lenni conceded, and Palma looked relieved at the affirmation.
“I don’t know what this vow ceremony is,” Jae said.
“Oh,” Elan said, surprised. The vows were so ubiquitous that it had never occurred to him that anyone might not know about them. But it made sense that a Closest from somewhere as remote as Aredann wouldn’t, now that he thought about it. “All Avowed come to the central cities to pledge their loyalty to the Highest when they turn thirteen. There are small ceremonies every other week or so, usually just the new Avowed and their families and the Highest, but when one of the Highest’s heirs is ready to pledge, it’s a true celebration. Everyone who can travels to the cities to celebrate—all the Avowed possible, and even plenty of Twill. Especially artists. There are buyers for everything.”
“And the ceremony itself is more elaborate, too,” Palma said. “I remember your sister’s. It isn’t held in the house, it’s in that…that pavilion.”
For Jae’s benefit, he explained, “The four central reservoirs all come together, and there’s an island in the middle. There’s a pavilion built on it, where the Highest themselves take their vows, and when they do…”
He trailed off, stricken, as the pieces all came together in his mind.
“Elan?” Palma asked.
“The Avowed are branded when they pledge their loyalty,” Elan said.
“I know that. Shirrad had one, and yours…”
Elan raised a hand to his chest, fingers seeking the remnants of the burn under his shirt. When he’d broken his vows, his brand had turned red and raw, once again a fresh burn. “The Highest all take the brand, too, but then there’s another step. They take further vows—vows of responsibility to the Well—and then, Jae, they trace the brand with a knife.”
“You think that…” Jae trailed off, prompting him, still not quite asking a question.
“I don’t know,” he said, then added, “Yes. It must be, it’s…I saw the knife when Erra took her vows. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s some kind of black stone, not like anything else I can think of.”
Jae sucked in a breath. “The knife I saw in my visions was made of black stone.”
“I’ve never seen it anywhere else,” Elan said. “I don’t know where they kept it, but I do know it’s ceremonial, some kind of…of artifact, from before the Well. All the Highest swear on it, from all four families. It must be the knife from your vision. It must be.”
“Then we don’t need to know where they keep it,” Lenni said. “We just need to have eyes on it at the ceremony, and then follow it when the ceremony ends. We’ll seize it as quickly as possible. But this means we have to get to the cities, fast. We have to be there before the ceremony, and have as many people ready to follow as possible. We can’t afford to lose track of it.”
“I’m ready to go now,” Jae said.
Elan glanced at the window. It was evening, but it wasn’t as if they hadn’t traveled through plenty of nights. Still, Lenni said, “In the morning. Palma, prepare what you need to travel. I’ll start spreading word among the Closest. If we do it right, so none of the Avowed notice, they can prepare themselves. When the moment comes…”
Jae nodded. “They will take up arms.”
“And their chances will be much better if they’ve had time to plan and prepare,” Lenni said. “I don’t have enough followers to send word to every estate, and we need people in the cities if we’re going to find that knife. But I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you,” Jae said.
Elan’s gut twisted and he found he wasn’t hungry any longer. There hadn’t been war, no more than an occasional skirmish, in generations, not since the Curse had been cast. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, or how many people would be injured or killed. The newly freed Closest would have an advantage in numbers—they far outnumbered the Avowed and Highest—but no training or organization. Or even weapons. The skilled, armed Avowed would be able to tear through them easily.
But the Closest would have Jae on their side. Elan had already seen her cause a massive earthquake and stop a sandstorm at the peak of its rage. She would defend her people, giving them an advantage. But she wouldn’t be able to prevent the fighting.
The clash, when it came, would be brutal.
Maybe once they were in the cities he could get a message to Erra. Their father listened to her, at least sometimes. Certainly more than he listened to Elan. Elan didn’t know how she’d feel about him, now that he’d broken his vows, but he c
ouldn’t imagine her turning him away—or worse, turning him in. If he could talk to her, convince her of the havoc that would happen in a war and bring her to their side, maybe the whole thing could be averted.
Maybe.
Elan reached over to brush a hand against Jae’s elbow. She glanced at him, and he didn’t know how to give her strength, but she squared her shoulders.
“Once we get to the cities, I want to contact my sister,” Elan said.
“What?” Lenni shook her head. “That’s a terrible—”
“She’ll listen to me,” Elan said.
“Yes, and tell your father everything you say,” Lenni said. “Which means he’ll know we’re there. The longer we can keep that secret, the better. If the Highest have warning, they’ll hide the knife—or lay a trap.”
“Erra wouldn’t do that,” Elan said. “She’ll listen to me.”
“You think she’d break her vows for you?” Lenni asked.
Elan hesitated, mouth open to say yes, but then he shut it instead and didn’t answer.
Lenni rose from the table as if his nonanswer settled things, and Palma followed her. He didn’t argue, but he was still turning it over in his mind. Erra would want to listen to him, he was sure of that, but now he was a vow-breaker—she wouldn’t trust him, not after that. But she would want the best for her people, so maybe she’d still listen to him, maybe he could make her see reason….
Jae glanced at Elan, then said in that barely audible murmur of hers, “I’ll destroy it as soon as I have it in my hands—once we take it, the Highest will know what we’re doing. They’ll do anything to stop us. But that means the Closest won’t have much time to prepare.”
“True,” he said, and he could understand her concern. “But they’ll be free.”
The line of worry didn’t ease from her forehead, but she nodded. “That’s the most important thing. More important than anything.”
Erra paced, restless, and the brand tangled with her robe. She’d belted it to her waist, almost like a blade. It tangled less that way, she’d found, especially since she was in trousers instead of a dress for this muddy excursion. But it was still an ever-present annoyance, and she hated having to grab it even just to untangle it from her clothes. When she touched it for a few moments, she saw the world of flame and smoke unfurl around her, and she had to fight not to flinch and yank her hand away. Especially since no one else knew why she carried it with her.