by Marie Brown
mind. I can certainly say it is a good thing you do not use your last name, either one, for there were wanted posters scattered all over this town for annums. That so-called husband of yours must have incredible wealth, to carry his search all the way down here from the Worldcrest. Anyway, that's beside the point. Let's get down to this, and lay those old troubles to rest. You must, after all, or you risk giving yourself away the first time you hear one of the ballads."
"Ballads?"
"Indeed. The story of the Lost Wife became something of a favorite here in the school. Not only do we all know the popular ballads, but we've had our share of songwriters add to the collection. Now, give me your hand, and tell me what happened to your father."
With that, Liesel began her work of Healing the old wounds, and eased a bit more of the pain of the new. Kama had never realized how good it could feel to just talk to someone, with no fear of judgment, someone who cared. Although she could have done without the process of dredging up the old, painful details, she certainly felt more peaceful than she had in many annums when Liesel left her that night.
Karr'at
Karr'at, the famed stronghold of the Dargasi, looked like a mountain from the outside. It had been built right into a vast pile of jumbled up boulders, ones easily the size of a house, all the same shade of dusty red. The outside structures looked rather modest, just some walls and stairs and such. But inside. . . inside the pile of rock, a world of wonder lay hidden, waiting for discovery and exploration.
Lorrine followed her uncle into the mountain with a sense of unreality. None of this made much sense, not the story he'd told her of her own birth, nor the fact that she now walked the halls of the most secret fortress in the known world without Derfek anywhere near. She fancied she could feel him with her, though, like he walked by her side and examined everything she saw with the same wondering eyes. Maybe he did. Who knew what his unknown magical abilities allowed him to do. She'd best behave as though he truly stood right beside her, just in case.
Red rock walls swallowed Lorrine and Ranam as they walked through a torchlit hallway. Torches! Lorrine found the anachronistic things nearly as astounding as the entire fortress carved of rock. Only the very poorest of folk ever used torches anymore, for the last several centuries. Ever since that elemental mage, what was his name? Something strange, like Luca or Luman or something like that. Whatever his name, hundreds of annums ago a mage had discovered a way to get fire elementals to burn happily on the end of a stick, and no one had needed torches since.
Now, these weren't common cheap torches, of course. They were the kind that burned oil and didn't smoke or stink. But still, they burned. How thoroughly unsafe. Perhaps the irrational prohibition against magic users extended to magic items, as well.
Lorrine forgot to wonder about torches as soon as they reached the first great open chamber. If she hadn't known better, she would never have believed any of this existed underground. It scarcely seemed possible. From the carefully inlaid floor mosaic, to the vast sense of space created by the overarching roof high overhead, it felt like the inside of one of the great temples of the world, not a mere room in a fortress, buried under uncounted tons of rock.
"Your arrival should be cause for a great disturbance," Ranam said. She wondered at the tone of his voice. Wry, or disgusted? She couldn't tell. "You are, after all, the first person not born here to ever set foot within Karr'at since its founding."
"Why is that?"
"I'll leave that to the Keeper, whether to tell you or not. It is his decision, not mine. I have risked enough of my life by simply bringing you here, and acknowledging your blood."
"Why did you do that? Not that I'm ungrateful, mind, but we've only just met."
"I should think it obvious, child of my sister." Ranam gave her a sober look. "I brought you here for your mother's sake, to right an old wrong."
"Thank you."
Then Ranam steered her past an amazing wall where water trickled endlessly over blue tiles, creating a pleasant patch of coolness, and directly to a regal looking elderly man.
"Keeper of the Stone," he said, confirming Lorrine's guess, "I have brought a previously unknown relative from the wild outlands to meet you. Arentin, I give you your great-granddaughter, Lorrine."
The old man stiffened all over in shock, his eyes devouring the details of her appearance. "By Athtara, you are the very image of-"
His words cut off abruptly.
"Now, this is awkward," another voice observed. Lorrine sought out the speaker, a man older than Ranam. He also bore a strong resemblance to Ranam, to Arentin. . . to herself. "Lorrine, is it? Welcome to Karr'at, daughter of those we do not speak of."
"Ah. . . Thank you."
"Ranam," the old man, Arentin, growled. "What have you done, in bringing this girl here?"
"I have brought a branch of our family back to life," Ranam said, with a touch of defiance. Lorrine suddenly realized he wasn't really all that much older than herself. She'd always known that her mother had gotten pregnant with her really young, but somehow that never seemed odd, until she saw her new uncle acting like a defiant teenager. He was probably less than twenty annums older than her, making him what, under forty? How odd.
"Yes, we can see that. But is this a wise choice, given who she is?"
"She is a person, Alimansk. And more than that, she is right here, in the place her mother should have stood all along."
"Really, I don't want to be any trouble. . . " Lorrine began, then trailed off uncertainly as she abruptly became the focus of three sets of very intense male eyes, black and dark brown.
"Her mother was exiled," Arentin spoke, voice heavy with emotion. "Rightly or wrongly, depending on whose opinion you seek. And her father was stricken from the family rolls for sheer madness. But this girl, this Lorrine, as yet has committed no crime. As an innocent babe, she had nothing to do with the actions of either of her parents. Lorrine, daughter of those we do not speak of, you are welcome in this family until you prove yourself unworthy."
Lorrine felt herself swept along the currents of unreality as the old man, the leader of the secretive Dargasi people, gathered her into his arms for a frail and trembling hug. Then he declared a night of celebration, and within moments, or so it seemed, Lorrine found herself the complete center of attention. She rode with the overwhelming current, tumbling along helplessly, bouncing off the occasional boulder as she stepped on unknown customs or said customs offended her.
Women took charge of her, a sea of faces the same color as her own, with her own long black hair. She felt at once out of place, and thoroughly at home, in the sea of cinnamon-colored people. She'd never seen so many people of her own color. Only her mother, and herself, before today. They bathed her, and dressed her in garments like their own, made out of a loose-woven material known as gauze. She wondered what Derfek would think if he could see her in this filmy, light, clingy fabric.
They talked to her, all in a chattering horde, but really only one person stuck in her mind: Selima, Ranam's daughter. She looked young, only about eighteen, and she seemed incredibly happy to have a new cousin.
"I just know we're going to be great friends, Lorrine," she said, more than once. "It's so wonderful to have you here!"
"Why all the fuss?" Lorrine finally asked, when most of the women and girls had gotten busy dressing for the special occasion, focused on what clothing to wear rather than the stranger in their midst.
"Silly," Selima giggled. "We've never had a real guest before, of course! We all know everyone in the entire blasted country, after all, and we're related to everyone, to boot. So you see, even though you're family, you're also a complete stranger. We've never seen a stranger before, you know."
"Still seems downright odd, all this fuss over me," Lorrine said. "I feel rather small and unimportant, looking at this magnificent place you all live in. I wish Derfek were here to see it."
"Tell me about him," Selima demanded, holding out an enveloping outer robe. Lorrine looked
at it, then put it on with a shrug, as Selima put on an outer robe of her own. Why dress in such lovely garments, if only to cover them up with pure woven blandness? "Tell me while we walk to the Great Hall."
The younger woman tucked her arm through Lorrine's and tugged her into motion, leading the way through the halls of wonder until they reached yet another vast and awesome cavern. Lorrine told her cousin about Derfek, and how lonely she felt without him, and didn't even think it odd when Selima asked if he'd cast a spell on her. Like father, like daughter, it would seem.
After an astonishing feast, of exotic foods that people nearest her disparaged as just the same as they got every night, Lorrine found herself swept away into a room filled with unwed maidens, who giggled and fussed until even they grew tired and sought their beds in the communal sleeping room.
What a strange, strange world.
And yet, part of Lorrine felt completely at ease here. Not the part that longed for Derfek, and most certainly not the part that secretly missed Kama, but some part of herself that recognized this crazy place as home.
In the night, while Lorrine slept uneasily, missing Derfek, she woke to something that she should never hear, here in this stronghold of maidenly chastity. Soft sighs, quiet moans, the sounds of skin sliding against skin under the covers. . . Had one of these oh-so-chaste maidens snuck a man into