The Secrets of Solace

by Jaleigh Johnson

  When she reentered the Heart, Lina was surprised to see lights shining in the council building and about a dozen people milling around outside, as if they were waiting for something. She slowed her pace, curiosity overcoming her fatigue.

  Ortana’s ruling council must have called another emergency meeting, she guessed, though it was awfully late at night for it. Then again, the council had been having more and more closed sessions lately. Lina didn’t have to guess what the meeting was about: the Iron War. Even the people standing around the building were talking about it.

  The conflict, which had been raging for more than a year now, started when the Merrow Kingdom began stockpiling weapons, and rumors flew that they were out to conquer the Dragonfly territories. In response, Dragonfly’s King Aron halted the iron trade, cutting Merrow off from its most necessary resource for making weapons. Furious, Merrow’s King Easmon declared war anyway.

  The archivists had refused to fight for either side, but that didn’t mean their world had gone untouched, as evidenced by the daily flood of refugees they’d taken into their care. Innocent people from both kingdoms had lost their homes, sometimes their whole town, and they had nowhere else to go. But since the archivists had opened their nation to the refugees, that meant the strongholds were now overflowing with people, and it was all the archivists could do to care for them.

  It was one of many reasons Lina rarely saw her teacher Zara for her private lessons anymore. As part of Ortana’s ruling council, Zara was responsible for the well-being of everyone in the three strongholds, and in the last year, those duties had taken precedence over everything else.

  And strained Lina and Zara’s already tricky relationship even further.

  It was too much to hope for that the late meeting meant the war was over, but maybe there’d been some new development. Something that meant there was an end in sight.

  Something that would bring Zara back to her.

  Whatever was happening, Lina knew she wouldn’t learn anything standing outside the council building. Luckily, there were better ways to get information. The building’s extensive network of ventilation shafts, for example.

  Lina smiled, though her grin quickly faded as she considered what she was about to do. Sneaking through abandoned cave tunnels was one thing, but getting inside this place to eavesdrop was something else entirely. She would need all her skills to pull it off. She wasn’t worried, exactly. “Focused” was a better word. If she wasn’t focused, she could be caught, and if she got caught—well, she didn’t want to think too far down that path.

  Lina tried to be nonchalant as she approached the building. Formal sculpted gardens of blue and green moss flanked the steps leading up to the entrance, and stone staircases on either side of the double doors led to the public galleries on the second level. Usually, the doors stood open, and any of the archivists, apprentices, sarnuns, or chamelins could sit in and observe the council meetings, though no one was allowed to speak without the council’s permission.

  The first thing Lina decided to do was take stock of how heavily guarded the meeting was. A slow circuit of the building, blending in with the crowd, would tell her what she needed to know. At most, she thought there would be someone standing at every entrance to turn people away. Lina confirmed this when she saw that the double doors at the front were closed. Nirean, one of the chamelin guards, stood watch in front of them.

  A thin layer of dark fur covered Nirean’s body, stopping short of her throat and the membranous edge of her leathery brown wings, which curled over her arms and chest like a bat’s. Her face closely resembled a lizard’s, with a long, scaled snout and lambent yellow eyes. When Nirean caught sight of Lina, the chamelin inclined her head and, with a flick of her wings, began the transformation that would shift her back to her human form.

  Lina felt a tremor of apprehension. She hadn’t expected to be noticed in the crowd, but Nirean and Zara were good friends to her. Now that she’d been spotted, she had no choice but to talk to the chamelin. She walked up the short flight of steps and stopped in front of the double doors as Nirean’s wings shrank and disappeared into her back. Her snout drew in, and her face turned round and wrinkled as scales became skin. Fur lightened and receded. The dark green dress robe she and the other chamelins typically wore fell in loose folds around her as her body became more slender and she lost several inches in height.

  When the transformation was complete, Nirean pushed her long grayish-brown hair out of her face and tightened the belt on her robe to accommodate her new girth. “Hello, Lina,” she said politely, and even as she spoke, the tenor of her voice changed from rough and gravelly to smooth and deep. “It’s nice to see you out and about in the main corridors. I heard from several teachers that you missed your afternoon classes today.”

  “Hello, Nirean.” Lina bit her lip, her mind racing. Word traveled fast in the stronghold. And judging by the chamelin’s stern expression, she wasn’t going to let this unapproved absence pass. Lina sighed. She would have to pay Zara a visit to try to explain herself—if Zara was even in her office when Lina came calling. Often, her teacher was just as hard to find as Lina was, and if Zara did need to tell her something or reprimand her for some infraction, usually she slipped notes under Lina’s door or passed the lectures along through Nirean.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well earlier.” That was certainly true. “I’ll talk to Zara and explain everything right after the meeting,” she promised, and started backing down the steps. The last thing she wanted was for Nirean to pepper her with questions about where she’d been or what she was doing in the Heart of the Mountain that evening. Questions led to suspicion, and Nirean was better than most people—chamelin or human or sarnun— at sniffing out when Lina was up to something.

  Nirean opened her mouth as if she meant to stop Lina, but luckily, at that moment, a pair of sarnun archivists came up the steps to try to get into the meeting, and Nirean was forced to step in front of them and explain that it was off-limits. With a sigh of relief, Lina took the opportunity to sidle off through the moss gardens. She was just out of sight of Nirean and the front entrance when a different voice brought her up short.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  The voice made Lina’s skin crawl. With a groan, she turned, and her heart sank when she saw Simon smirking at her. Where had he come from? He was like a cave snake: you never noticed him until he was leaving a slimy trail right next to you. Encountering Simon was much worse than being spotted by Nirean.

  “Wait, is that you, Winterbock?” Simon asked, adopting a tone of mock surprise. “Sorry, I thought you were one of the refugees. Have you been crawling around in the trash bins again?” He waved a hand in front of his face and made a show of backing away from her.

  Lina knew she didn’t stink, but she could only imagine how she must look after the cave-in. Her hair was probably full of rock dust. She was surprised Nirean hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, the chamelin was probably used to her odd appearance by now. Simon just enjoyed mocking it.

  “You guessed it,” Lina said, pretending to smile sweetly at him. “I rolled around on your bedsheets afterward. You don’t mind, do you?”

  For a split second, Simon’s face blanched, as if he didn’t know whether she was kidding. The reaction gave Lina a warm feeling in her chest.

  “Very funny,” he said. “Do you even know what bedsheets are, Winterbock? I always thought you slept in a hole in the ground.”

  “Oh, I do,” Lina said without missing a beat. “Sleep in holes, eat garbage—all that fun stuff you constantly remind me about.”

  If Simon noticed her sarcasm, he didn’t comment on it. He was too busy looking her up and down suspiciously. His gaze lingered on her hands, and Lina noticed a flash of disappointment cross his face when he saw they were normal again. She hadn’t thought it was possible to hate him more than she already did, but with that look, he made it easy for her.

  “What are you doing lurking around here anywa
y?” he asked. “The council meeting’s off-limits.”

  “So I heard,” Lina said, crossing her arms over her chest and pretending to look bored. “Tolwin didn’t tell you what it was about?” Like Zara, Tolwin served on the ruling council, but Lina doubted he’d give his apprentice, even a senior one like Simon, the details of any secret meeting. Still, never hurt to ask.

  “Of course he did.” But Simon’s face reddened, and Lina knew he had no idea what the meeting was about. “If you think I’m going to tell you, you’re crazier than I thought.”

  “Oh, come on, Simon,” Lina said, unable to suppress a chuckle. “We both know you’re lying. Must be big news, though, if they called the meeting this late.”

  “That’s none of our concern,” he said, sniffing. “You should be more worried about when you’re having your next bath.”

  “Fine.” Lina rolled her eyes. Trust Simon to think of nothing beyond pleasing his teacher—the two of them were inseparable in a way that made Lina want to vomit—or insulting her every chance he got. “As much fun as this has been, I’m tired, and I’m going back to my room now.” She started to move away, tossing a wave over her shoulder. “By the way, next time we get together, how about you make fun of my hair or something? The bath and garbage jokes are starting to get a little stale.”

  She spoke casually, but inside, she was trying to push down the anger and embarrassment burning in her chest as Simon’s snickers echoed behind her.

  When she was far enough away, Lina darted into the shadows behind a stone column. She was determined that no one else would see her. Running into both Nirean and Simon had been bad enough. Self-consciously, she reached up and wiped at a bit of dirt crusted on her cheek. So what if she got a little dirty crawling through the tunnels and ventilation shafts? She had no idea why Simon hated her as much as he seemed to, but he never wasted an opportunity to give her a hard time.

  Lina shook her head. She was letting herself get distracted, and that was dangerous. She had more important things to think about than Simon. The council meeting had started, and she was missing it.

  Moving along the side of the building, Lina spotted what she was looking for behind a patch of dusky purple cave mushrooms. The hinged grate covering the ventilation shaft was rusty and secured with four equally rusty screws.

  Lina turned and put her back to the building. Fumbling in her apron pocket, she removed a screwdriver and her small metal pry bar. These tools were among her particular favorites, and she usually carried them with her. Torque was the greatest thing in the world, as far as Lina was concerned.

  Clutching the worn grip in her hand, she fitted the screwdriver to the screws and loosened them one by one behind her back, all the while keeping an eye out for anyone who might venture too close and see what she was doing. A few minutes later, she had four rusty screws safely tucked into her apron pocket. She fitted the pry bar between the grate’s edge and the wall and carefully levered it open. Thankfully, the hinges only squeaked a little bit. No one had noticed her either.

  Easy as breathing, Lina thought.

  She put her tools away and squeezed headfirst into the shaft. “A little bit of light would be good here,” she told the lumatites, and put her hand out when they started to glow brightly. “Not too much. We really, really don’t want anyone to know we’re coming.”

  “You asked for one last vote to reaffirm that we are in agreement on this matter,” Councilwoman Zara declared as Lina moved with agonizing slowness through the dusty, cobwebbed ventilation shaft—almost directly above her teacher’s head. “You have your answer, Councilman Tolwin: the archivists are and shall remain neutral in this war. However, we will not prevent any man or woman—human, chamelin, or sarnun—of sufficient age from joining the fight for either side, provided they first sever their affiliation with us.”

  “I acknowledge the council’s vote, Zara.” Tolwin’s smooth, deep voice gave Lina as much of a crawly feeling on her skin as Simon’s did. “Nevertheless, I wish to reiterate my misgivings about this course of action.” Lina heard the faint sound of shuffling papers. “The Merrow Kingdom’s forces have established a large military outpost in the city of Tevshal and are now moving southwest from there. Every day they draw closer to our borders. Just last night, our scouts reported seeing campfires from the top of Previs Peak. Twenty miles, my friends, is all that separates an army from our doorstep.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Councilman,” Zara observed. “Twenty miles of snowbound foothills and subzero temperatures lie between them and the bridges spanning Gazer’s Gorge, where our defenders from each mountain stronghold can decimate their armies as they try to come across. They won’t risk it.”

  “Agreed,” spoke up Councilwoman Vargis. “We have discussed this before, Tolwin. Merrow’s target must be Kalmora. It’s the largest city in the western Dragonfly territories and a hub for the iron trade. But Merrow will need thousands more troops if they have any hope of capturing it.”

  “At the rate they’re mustering, by the end of the month they may well have thousands of soldiers in place,” Tolwin pointed out. “And whatever the outcome, one day the war will end, and neither the Merrow Kingdom nor the Dragonfly territories are likely to forget that we refused to choose a side. They may punish us for it in ways we haven’t foreseen. Once the war is over, the Merrow Kingdom may refuse to let us set foot in the meteor fields to collect artifacts. Can you imagine how devastating that would be to our nation, our way of life?”

  Councilwoman Vargis scoffed. “We have made important concessions to the Merrow Kingdom to ensure that that does not happen, Tolwin. Don’t create problems where none exist.”

  Lina paused at the councilwoman’s words. Well, that explained why the archivists were still able to ship in objects from the meteor fields without interruption. They’d come to some kind of agreement with King Easmon. Though, if they were neutral in the war, what “concessions” could there be?

  “Kings can change their minds, Vargis,” Councilman Tolwin continued in an ominous voice. “Worse, if the Dragonfly territories were ever to discover the deal we struck—”

  “The issue has been decided, Councilman,” another voice, that of Councilman Davort, interrupted Tolwin. “Can we move on, please?”

  So there had been a deal, one that secretly put the archivists on the Merrow Kingdom’s side, or at least favored them highly. Lina hated to admit it, but Tolwin had a point. The archivists were taking a big risk if the Dragonfly territories were to find out.

  Sweat poured down Lina’s face as she continued to inch forward. As juicy as all this information was, the meeting was taking forever, and she needed to get out of the shaft.

  She was prepared to admit that she’d encountered a few wrinkles in her eavesdropping plan. For one thing, she’d forgotten that this shaft veered to the left and had taken her right through the center of the room and above the council table. She’d thought the shaft went around the outside of the room, which would have allowed her to listen in from a safe distance—the last thing she wanted was a front-row seat. By the time she’d realized where she was, she’d figured it was too late to turn back.

  She also hadn’t expected this part of the shaft to be so old and…well, “shoddy” was the nicest word she could think of for it. Every time Lina moved, the shaft made ominous creaking and groaning sounds. If it hadn’t been for the council members occasionally breaking out into impressive shouting matches to cover the noise, she never would have made any progress at all through the shaft. Now she was stuck waiting for the meeting to end so she could get out without anyone hearing her.

  The most disappointing part of all was that, as far as she could tell, there’d been no new developments in the Iron War. Lina had hoped to hear good news, but the council only seemed interested in rehashing an old argument.

  “Who is in command of the Merrow Kingdom’s armies in the west?” one of the other council members was asking. “Is it the princess Elinore?”
<
br />   “Technically, yes,” Zara answered. “But as far as our scouts can tell, she’s being kept away from the front lines. The king won’t want to risk her safety, so the western forces are being led by Commander Cartwell.”

  Worried murmurs swept through the council room, and Lina caught her breath. News from the front lines was often slow to trickle down to the apprentices, but even she had heard of Commander Cartwell. He had a reputation as a brilliant—and brutal—field commander. Knowing he was at the head of an army marching in the direction of the strongholds was not a comforting thought.

  “Enough, enough,” Tolwin said, and the room gradually quieted. “My concerns have been recorded, but let me offer one last proposal.”

  Just one more? Lina resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall of the shaft. I should be so lucky.

  “If we would reconsider our position of neutrality and throw our support to King Aron of the Dragonfly territories, I am convinced they would be willing to provide us not only with a contingent of troops to help protect our borders but also with significant monetary resources. In exchange, we can offer them vital technological support in their campaign. I’m certain King Aron would greatly value our combined expertise.”

  Zara’s angry voice echoed in the chamber. “That has never been our way, Tolwin, and you know it! We’re preservationists. We’re not in the business of developing weapons of war and destruction. That you even suggest such a thing offends me.”

  “Not to mention it would destroy any goodwill we have established with the Merrow Kingdom,” Councilman Davort added more calmly. “Tolwin, you said yourself you were afraid of being cut off from the meteor fields. How quickly do you think King Easmon would block us from collecting artifacts if we threw our support to the Dragonfly territories?”