Andoran's Legacy

by M. Gregg Roe

  Hankin thought it over while massaging the spot she had struck. “I’m also hoping to impress Celebern by helping to keep an eye on you.” That answer clearly startled her, and she rolled over onto her back.

  He really had been curious. Jessia had been given a false personality by the Zardis Thieves’ Guild, to disguise her true self and allow her to infiltrate Novox. That had been successful, but when her original self was reactivated, something had gone wrong. The false Jessia had remained in charge, and she had ultimately disobeyed her orders, killing one of her fellow operatives during an attempt on Celebern’s life.

  “No one’s ever going to trust me,” she complained. “They’ve got me sorting papers like I’m some clerk or something. I thought that Celebern would be grateful.”

  Celebern obviously was grateful. Otherwise Jessia would have either been disposed of or be rotting in one of the cells below the Novox headquarters. But he wasn’t about to explain, especially since those cells weren’t even supposed to exist.

  Hankin put his hands behind his head. “That is because we don’t know what to do with you.”

  Her sudden inhale almost sounded like a sob. “I don’t either. I don’t know who I am. I need to find out, but I can’t do it while I’m practically a prisoner. I’m always being followed and always being watched. No one trusts me.”

  “Would you like to go somewhere else? Leave the city?”

  “You know that’s not going to happen. And besides, this is the only place I really remember living.”

  This was their third date, but her personality remained a mystery. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she surprised him with unexpected behavior changes. It might be that she was simply experimenting as she tried to find herself, but he feared that her personality was fragmenting. Some of those given the same treatment as Jessia had been driven insane.

  “What if we get you a job somewhere else?” he suggested, staring up at a ceiling illuminated only by moonlight from the open window.

  “Doing what?” she asked, the exasperation audible in her voice.

  “I don’t know. Waiting tables? Gardening?”

  “Gardening,” she repeated. “I remember helping my mother in the garden, not that any of that’s real. But they’re happy memories.”

  She knew nothing of it, but Novox had thoroughly investigated the original Jessia’s past. There had been no gardens, just a tiny apartment in a dilapidated building where she had been raised along with two brothers. That Jessia had been a delinquent, and one of her brothers had ended up in prison. This Jessia’s past was a complete fabrication.

  “I’ll look into it,” he told her. There were businesses that supplied gardening services.

  “You’re the first one to offer to help me. And now I have to confess that I only approached you because of your connection to Celebern. Still want to help me?”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t surprised to hear that. Everyone knew that he had been Celebern’s ward.

  “Still want to date me?”

  “Yes.” Her honesty was refreshing, and her unpredictably was intriguing.

  “Can I sleep here tonight? This bed is a lot better than mine.”

  Jessia was living in a dormitory with Novox trainees, all of whom had probably been instructed to keep an eye on her. “Would you like to move in here?” he asked.

  She sat up and stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Of course I would.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll move your things here tomorrow.”

  It wasn’t long before he heard her fall asleep, but he laid awake for quite some time trying to figure out just why he had asked her to move in. Just like her, it was a mystery.

  The location for their first intimate encounter was obvious. They both still lived with their families, so their homes were out. A cheap inn wasn’t private enough, and the nice ones were too expensive. Some couples apparently made use of the wooded areas that surrounded each of the city’s three lakes, but that was unthinkable for her first time. No, the obvious place was the building that was now home to Alluring Apparel. There was just one problem …

  “Oh, it’s you,” said Hazel, poking her head out of one of the doorways along the long hallway to their right. “Is this Denis?”

  “Yes,” said Marryn, desperately trying to hide her surprise. “Denis, this is Hazel.”

  Hazel had an amused look as she stepped out into the hallway. “You two are here to fuck, aren’t you? Your first time?”

  Marryn wanted to just die on the spot. Denis’s embarrassment was obvious, and she knew that her face must be bright red. It took two tries, but she finally managed to stammer an affirmative reply.

  “I use this place too,” said Hazel as her expression slipped. “I’m working late, but I’m also expecting someone shortly. When he gets here, we’ll leave and go to my place. All right?”

  Denis simply shrugged when Marryn looked his way. “No,” she said, forcing herself to smile as she addressed Hazel. “You were here first. We’re going to the office to talk.” She turned around and headed the opposite way with Denis following. The small and barely furnished office was just after a right turn. As soon as they were both inside, she closed the door firmly, plunging them into near darkness because the windows were shuttered and the sun was nearly down.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

  “From what you’ve told me about her, we’re probably lucky that Hazel isn’t expecting more than one person.”

  His dry comment made her realize how tense she was. “Or that she didn’t invite us to join them,” she joked, causing him to laugh.

  Despite everything, Marryn was still considering going through with it. She liked Denis, and he liked her. They didn’t agree on everything, but they got along. And their dates had been progressing nicely, incorporating passionate kissing and even some fondling on their most recent one. It felt like it was time.

  “What do you think?” she asked, glancing around the room.

  “Here?” he asked. “There’s not even a rug.”

  Marryn explained what she had in mind. She might be a virgin, but she knew there were a variety of positions. She didn’t need to be flat on her back.

  “I’m up for it if you are,” he said, his voice betraying his eagerness.

  “Up?” she asked, staring intently and smiling.

  Denis laughed. And then he took her gently into her arms. As they kissed, the last of her uncertainties vanished. It was time.

  21

  ‡ Conviction ‡

  Tia was getting better, but they didn’t know why. For his part, Celebern didn’t really care what was responsible for her miraculous cure. He was simply happy that her health was improving, and her disposition along with it. More and more she resembled the Tia of his memories, irreverent and wisecracking. His affection for her just kept growing.

  Tia disagreed with him. “We have to figure this out,” she kept saying. “Lots of others have the same problem, especially older folks. We’ll be heroes if we figure this out.”

  Due to his carefully orchestrated acts of charity, Celebern was already somewhat of a hero to the people of the Witch’s City. He agreed to research the matter in order to appease her, not because of any sense of altruism on his part. But Tia wasn’t fooled. She knew him too well for that.

  They were now faced with a puzzle. There had been many changes to Tia’s lifestyle, and he had done everything he could think of to try to help her. And it hadn’t happened overnight. The changes had been slow. She had stopped taking the pain medication so often, relied less on her cane, slept better at night. Only after two months, when he summoned a cleric to examine her, had it become clear that she really was recovering.

  Celebern had promptly gone to see Draymund, telling his old friend there was no longer any reason to fetch the witch from Havenbrook. Truthfully, that had always been a long shot. How could some primitive witch do what the LifeStaff couldn’t
?

  He approached the problem by listing every possible reason for Tia’s improvement that he could think of, no matter how unlikely. It might be one thing in particular, but he suspected that it was actually a fortuitous combination.

  Her new medication was unlikely to be solely responsible. Many people used it or something similar, and Tia continued to improve despite taking it less often. But it still might be interacting with something else.

  Tia’s hot baths were a possibility, because they were also medicated now. Another alchemist had suggested an oil that she claimed eased soreness and relaxed the muscles. Tia said that it helped, and he liked it because it left her smelling faintly of honey.

  The food that Tia now consumed daily was markedly different from the plain fare that she had been subsisting on. Celebern’s cook was an expert at using spices and creating sauces that brought out the flavors of all types of food. Maybe one of those spices was part of the solution.

  Every three days, a man named Devan came to the house and gave Tia a massage using lotions that contained plant extracts. She raved about how wonderful it made her feel, and he noticed a real difference in her afterward. She had more energy and moved more spryly. Celebern had even tried a massage himself, and he could testify as to the man’s skill.

  And then there was sex, not the act but the fact that Tia had resumed taking daily doses of AP powder to guard against becoming pregnant. That was basically another form of medication, and it was something that older woman wouldn’t bother with because they were no longer fertile.

  After dinner with Clarissa one evening, Celebern ran down the list, concluding with, “It might be one of them, a combination, or something else entirely, like Tia being a half-elf. And, if we have to test the food possibility, that is a huge complication.”

  Clarissa was resigned to the situation now, but she still frowned much of the time when she visited. The frown deepened as she thought it over. “Aside from the food,” she said, “they’re fairly simple to test. We need to be systematic. If we can find enough volunteers, we can test all of the different combinations in parallel. If one of those seems to work, we’ll test it on more people to make sure.”

  Celebern nodded his approval. “Assume that we will pay the participants. And we will pay clerics to conduct the needed examinations.”

  Clarissa nodded. “To make sure it’s really working, not just in their head.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to organize this?”

  Tia laughed and pointed at her daughter. “Of course he does. Isn’t that what you’re good at.”

  “Yes, I am,” said Clarissa, clearly lost in thought. “We’ll need fifteen people to start. Do they all need to be female? What happens if a man takes AP powder?”

  Tia was laughing again, so Celebern answered. “You should consult our local alchemists. If that is not a problem, then I would suggest using thirty people, so each combination is tested on each gender.”

  “But what if race does make a difference?” objected Clarissa. “I think we should use thirty, but all female and evenly split between humans and half-elves.”

  “It is your call,” he told her. “This is an official Novox project, so you may use whatever resources you deem necessary.”

  Clarissa displayed one of her rare smiles. “If it works, I’m going to call it Andrea’s Cure.”

  “That is your call,” he told her seriously. “Shall we go for a walk? It’s a lovely evening.”

  The three of them did go for a short walk to the nearby lake. It was almost like they were a real family.

  Engrossed in his meal, it took a moment for Hankin to realize that someone was standing nearby. He looked up and saw that it was Clarissa. She stood behind the chair opposite him, holding a tray with her own meal on it. They were in the employee restaurant on the building’s second floor. The food was nothing special, but it was inexpensive and certainly convenient.

  “Can I join you?” she said.

  “Of course.”

  He watched as she set down her tray, seated herself, and promptly began eating. She often ate there, but usually either alone or in the company of one or more female clerks. But even then, Clarissa wasn’t much for socializing. She mostly just listened to the others, not even smiling when they told jokes.

  After finishing his food, he waited for Clarissa to finish hers. She ate methodically, showing no emotion and never once looking up.

  “I thought we should talk,” she said after finishing her drink—some kind of fruit juice from the look of it. “We’re going to be half-siblings.”

  In fact, Hankin and Jessia had recently had dinner with Celebern and Tia. Clarissa did resemble her mother somewhat, but their personalities were remarkably different. Tia had monopolized the conversation, asking both of them all kinds of questions.

  “That is not correct,” he said, matching her flat expression. “I was simply Celebern’s ward until I reached adulthood. He never adopted me.”

  “But you’re the closest thing he has to a son,” she protested.

  “Yes, but I am not his heir. In fact, he will probably outlive me. You will be the one inheriting Celebern’s business empire.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “I don’t want it. I don’t approve of some things that we do here. This is just a job.”

  Clarissa still didn’t seem to understand just how much power she wielded as Celebern’s assistant. Smirking slightly, he said, “Barring something unforeseen, you have over half a century until you need to worry about that.”

  “That’s true, but …” She shook her head briefly. “Never mind. I need to get back to work.”

  Hankin watched as she returned her tray and then departed, her expression as dour as ever. He just didn’t understand her. Before, she had been occupied taking care of her mother, but now she lived alone. Despite that, she still didn’t seem to have any interest in romance, or even any real friends. Did she just spend her evenings brooding?

  As he often did when the weather cooperated, Hankin went for a walk after lunch. It was both exercise and an opportunity to observe people. He was always on the lookout for disguise ideas, including, clothing, hairstyles, and mannerisms.

  He had now been living with Jessia for nearly a month. It was trying at times—he had always been somewhat of a loner—but it certainly wasn’t dull. Her personality had finally settled down, and it was a lively one, with expansive gestures that reminded him of Violet. Each evening she spoke excitedly about her work that day and gossiped about her co-workers. He really couldn’t talk about his work even if he wanted to because much of it was secret. But she truly loved her job as an apprentice gardener.

  The two of them were still intimate, but they now slept in separate beds. She tended to thrash around in her sleep, and, despite his denials, she complained that he snored loudly. At any rate, he preferred to sleep alone.

  There were other issues. He was by nature neat and organized, while she tended toward the opposite, often leaving behind messes that he felt obligated to deal with. She was impulsive, purchasing things on a whim and then often regretting it, even trying to return them sometimes. Freed from her uncertain past, Jessia was a free spirit, and he couldn’t help but admire that.

  “Good afternoon, Master Hankin.”

  The elegant voice coming from just behind him was unmistakable. And her use of an honorific with his name spoke volumes. She only did that when they were in the company of other people. Cinda was signaling a change in their relationship, but in a subtle manner.

  “Good afternoon, Mistress Cinda,” he returned, nodding formally as she came alongside to his left. Despite her simple clothing, she radiated confidence and poise.

  “Alas,” she said, with an expression of deep sorrow, “I have lost one of my regular clients. I am bereft.”

  “Perhaps their life has undergone an unexpected change,” he said, knowing exactly who she was referring to. “Maybe a shortage of funds, or an unexpected romance.”

  Cinda cocked a
n eyebrow. “A note of explanation would have been polite. Else I might feel compelled to seek them out and confront them in public.”

  “I apologize,” he said, abandoning the charade. “My situation has changed.” He briefly described what had happened.

  “I recall you mentioning Jessia,” she commented. “Do you truly trust her?”

  “Yes.” He understood her now.

  “Then I wish you well. In truth, the revelation of my descent from Lady Aurelia has gained me a number of new clients. My schedule is filled for months.”

  She had a proud look now that he admired. And he knew that she was simply conveying fact, not bragging. She had already been popular both because of her beauty and the fact that she was the daughter of a wealthy family.

  After some trivial small talk, they parted ways. Back in his office, he found himself remembering how he had told Cinda that he intended to marry her when her courtesan contract ended. That had simply been adolescent foolishness on his part. He had been infatuated by Cinda, overwhelmed by her considerable sexual skills. But that was over, at least for now. That evening he surprised himself by telling Jessia all about his relationship with Cinda.

  Despite what she had told Hankin and others, Cinda still received time off from both her courtesan duties and continued training. (She was finally making progress learning to play the lute.) With a gift in hand, she set out mid-morning for Dymar. She tried to visit Violet at least once a month, and she always brought some small item, claiming it was in exchange for being provided with a meal. Today she was bringing two bars of lavender-scented soap in a purple cotton bag tied with a white ribbon.

  It wasn’t an ideal day to be out. She was wearing a light rain cloak because there was no blue sky to be seen. It was all gloom and dark clouds. But it had looked the same the last two days without bringing so much as a drop of rain.

  At the north city gate, one of the guards handed her a marshwood staff without her even asking. That was in case she encountered an alligator, but it wasn’t likely. On a sunny day, they sometimes climbed up onto the causeway to bask. But there was always a chance of one starting to cross but then seemingly changing its mind and stopping there.