by C S Vass
“Kevin Lovewood did not kidnap anyone,” Sasha said with a stomp of her foot. “But if he wasn’t so suspicious of you, then maybe he would be a little more eager to share information. He’s an important member of Sun Circle’s court, and he might know something that will help.”
“Maybe you’re just telling yourself that because you think that the Master of Horse would make a better match for you than Reggie.”
Sasha’s hand cracked like a whip as she slapped Fiona hard across the face. The force of the blow turned her head, but her feet were rooted firmly on the stone of the walkway.
“Don’t you ever question my honor or intentions again, Fiona,” Sasha said. “You have a hero-complex because you think that you’re Rodrick, but you’re not. You’re just a pale squat girl who doesn’t know her place, and you’re not my friend.”
Without so much as another word Sasha Rains stormed off, skirts in hand, as straight and proud as a battle lance. Fiona’s heart thundered in her chest while blood pounded in her ears. As a light breeze pushed her midnight black hair around her head, she wondered if she had made some mistake. “No,” she said out loud to herself. This was no fault of hers. Sasha had simply been brainwashed into listening to whatever anyone told her. Maybe that’s what happened to people who had lived their whole lives at Clearwater.
Not for the first time Fiona reflected that she truly didn’t belong anywhere. Was this even the best place to get information about her brother? It was practically impossible to say with certainty one way or the other. If she slipped away, back to the Leaf or perhaps even the Stone District, maybe she would find fewer restrictions as she tried to gather information.
But it would be impossible. The Duke was not a man to be trifled with, and he had specifically ordered her to remain within the boundaries of Sun Circle. To openly defy such an order would be to make herself an instant criminal, and who knows what would happen then. No, it was best not to put herself in such a position.
As Fiona made her way back to the castle, a deep sadness began to overtake her. Things seemed to be crumbling all around her. The more she found out the less she knew, and the more tense things seemed to get with Sasha. Without her, without Rodrick, who else did she have? Lost in these melancholy thoughts she began to wonder what her next move should be when she turned a corner and almost walked right into Professor Thrushling.
“Professor…” her voice trailed off as she got a proper look at him. There was something haggard about his appearance. He seemed to have lost some of his natural plumpness and there was a greenish tinge to his skin. To her alarm she saw there was a light bruise under his left eye.
“Professor, are you alright?” she asked.
“Fiona, yes, you shouldn’t be out and about on your own, just needed some air, not to worry.” He spoke very quickly and his hands played with his collar.
“Has something happened to you? Why did you leave so abruptly from the Duke’s Court?”
“Ah, don’t worry, all things will be well.” His voice squeaked as he spoke. “There is much to do, I’m quite busy so I must leave you but we’ll speak soon, we will!” He quickly turned and walked away at a brisk pace in the opposite direction.
What was that about, Fiona wondered. She was sure that whatever the answer was she wouldn’t like it at all. Either way, it seemed that Thrushling would be little immediate help. Why couldn’t Shifter have given her some more concrete information to work off of? The secret-keeper must have known more than what they discussed. Why tell her about the Moonwood? Could that be related to everything else that was going on? How would she find out, now that her only lead, Juaro, was dead?
What she needed now was a new ally. Someone who she could trust, who would be motivated by getting to the bottom of the kidnappings and not get distracted with the politics of the court. Donyo might have been worth something if he wasn’t so busy searching for the bottoms of wine bottles, but like as not the Master Architect would be too drunk to remember anything useful even if he knew it in the first place.
Then it came to her. Of course! He had the respect of the Duke and a reputation of loyalty to Haygarden. He was a man of temperance, of honor. Most importantly he didn’t suffer fools like Kevin Lovewood to speak out of turn. There were no guarantees he would want to help her, but if they were both motivated to find the missing people he was the best chance that she had. It was time to pay a visit to the Lord Defender of Haygarden.
* * *
It took Fiona the better part of an hour to actually find out where Lord Hightower lived. At first she wandered somewhat aimlessly throughout the castle, hoping to chance upon some obvious sign by accident. When that failed she asked two washerwomen who gave her confused looks and quickly hurried on their way. At long last she happened upon a young boy playing with a wooden sword in an empty corridor.
Politely asking the washerwomen failed to yield any results so when she came across the boy she barked, “Child! Direct me to Lord Hightower’s chambers.”
He gave her a blank stare while the corner of his mouth twitched. “Now, boy! I don’t have all day.” She crossed her arms and did her best to impersonate the look that Helena Fiercewind gave to students that were about to be in the most severe trouble.
“He…he has a solar where he receives guests on the floor above us. The southwest wing. There’s a big red door.”
Nodding Fiona went on her way wondering if the child would tell anyone what she had asked. She decided it didn’t matter. Was she not allowed to speak with whoever she pleased?
As she entered the third floor she walked through a long dark hallway filled with suits of armor and burning torches. The heat made her feel as though she were moving through the mouth of a dragon. Finally she reached an impressive red oak door that was twice as tall as she was. Fiona took a breath and knocked.
When there was no reply she tried again, louder and more persistent, but after waiting for several minutes she realized that no one was coming. Feeling bold she pulled the wrought iron doorknob that was shaped like a great rearing stallion, and to her shock she found that the door was unlocked. Without looking back, she opened the door just wide enough so that she might slip through, and pulled it tight behind her.
The room she stepped into was a bright solar with a cherrywood interior and large square windows that revealed a blue sky. Geoff Hightower may have been a warrior, but Fiona might have thought him a librarian from the endless cases of books that lined the walls. Carved into the rectangular central table was an enormous map of Tellos that contained within it a secondary map of Haygarden in much greater detail. In impossibly small engravings were the spiral winding paths that led through each district up different parts of the mountain.
A flight of stairs led upwards to a higher floor where Fiona could hear two people arguing.
“The evidence is simply not sufficient!” a rough voice said. Fiona strained her ears, barely able to hear.
The second voice was not as loud, but Fiona heard a woman say, “Do you not trust my judgement?” Shocked, Fiona instantly recognized Headmaster Fiercewind. She must be in some sort of argument with Hightower, but about what?
Fiona quickly edged closer to the stairs to hear when to her horror she realized that they were both moving down towards her. Without so much as a thought for the consequences Fiona flung herself underneath the table as they stepped into the room.
“I dare not move without your aid,” Fiercewind said. “But the longer we leave him to his own devices the greater the risks become.”
“Do you think me unaware of the risks that plague our city?” Hightower responded. “I have left no stone unturned in my investigation of these matters. I will not grab an honorable man and throw him in chains without further proof of—”
“He is a clear threat. You know it, I know it, and the longer we let him skulk around the more likely it is that someone is going to get hurt.”
“I trust your judgement, Helena, and I appreciate that you have
brought the matter to me. I assure you, I will keep a steady eye on him.”
Fiercewind took a heavy breath. “This could lead to the kidnapping victims. By failing to act we could be making the difference between life and death for them.”
“I do not believe that any hostages have been or will be harmed, Helena. You know that.”
“I don’t share your confidence. You say that they hope to use the victims as bartering chips, but I say they’re looking to make us seem weak. Nothing would demonstrate weakness on our part more than if bodies started showing up.”
“Enough!” Hightower shouted. “I fought a war so that men would not need to fear the tyrannical arm of the Tellosian Empire snatching them up without cause. I will not replace that evil with a new one.”
“And while you live up to the ideals of a revolution that happened decades ago citizens are being threatened with real violence now,” Fiercewind persisted. “Perhaps in your old age you’re not the capable Lord Defender you once were.”
“You go too far, Helena, you go too far.” Lord Hightower’s voice was low and dangerous. Fiona wondered desperately what could make Helena talk to the Lord Defender in such a manner.
“The Duke is already greatly displeased with you,” he went on.
“You don’t need to tell me that. I know Duke Redfire wants three things from my school: soundmages, warriors, and wives. I didn’t know that the revolution you fought was so that we could be in a state of constant warfare.”
There was silence in the room while Fiona watched Hightower’s boots clicking across the floor as he paced the room. Her heart thrashed in her chest like a caged animal. What madness had possessed her to come in uninvited? She was certain that by not revealing herself her crime had gone from trespassing to spying.
“I wasn’t going to tell you anything yet, Helena, but perhaps I was wrong. You ought not worry about these criminals. You see…the Duke has decided to relieve you of your post.”
“What?” Fiercewind’s voice seemed small and lost, so different from just a moment ago. Fiona found her hands firmly covering her mouth. She had almost shouted in protest.
“I don’t know exactly when, but perhaps I can save you the pain of being caught off guard in public. His mind is made up. I think Fiona Sacrosin might have been the last straw. He thinks you’re churning out nothing but students like her, and he—”
“He what?” Fiercewind demanded. “Is disappointed that I’m not producing students content to sit in their houses all day and wait for war? That Clearwater Academy graduates students who are smart and willful enough to solve their own problems?”
Fiona felt herself touched by the unexpected compliment. She never would have expected Fiercewind to defend her to the Duke’s own Lord Defender.
“Is that what you call it?” Hightower asked. “That girl has almost been killed twice in just as many days. Riding through the streets like a damn lunatic without so much as a cry for help to the city guard. Rushing into the center of a bloodbath while those Vaentysh imbeciles riot in the street. I don’t even think she knows how many times in that fight I prevented her head from getting swept off her shoulders. And all for what?”
Fiercewind sighed, but did not respond.
“The girl doesn’t know her place,” Hightower said. “Rodrick was making some real progress in his investigation. I’m certain that’s why he was targeted. He must have known something. Now that he’s gone…It matters not. I may not have the ability to keep the girl safe while handling the intensifying situation.”
“You’re right,” Fiercewind said. Fiona’s mouth opened with surprise. “It should be my job to keep my students safe, not yours. You have enough on your plate, Geoff.”
It sounded as though Hightower muttered something, but Fiona couldn’t make out what he said. He then continued, “The point is that if Clearwater graduated students who knew their place as well as how to fight and ride a horse, then maybe you would keep your post.”
“What will Clearwater do without me?” Fiercewind asked. She sounded almost…scared, and Fiona found that more unsettling than anything else she had heard.
“Clearwater will be fine,” Hightower said. “I’m more concerned with what you will do without Clearwater.”
“I’ll do just what I’ve always done,” Fiercewind responded. “Protect the youth of this city.”
“Helena I’m warning you. I’ve heard your accusations, but if you meddle in these affairs of state, if you confront him, then you will get no protection from me.”
There was a loud bang that might have been Fiercewind kicking something in anger, but Fiona couldn’t be sure. Then Fiercewind said, “Understood, Lord Defender.” The red oak door creaked loudly on its hinges and was slammed hard behind Fiercewind.
“Damn woman will be the death of me,” Hightower said to himself.
Fiona tried to keep herself calm. She had pinned her hopes on Hightower leaving when Fiercewind did, but how long would he stay here? It’s okay, she told herself. The tabletop is wide and low to the ground. He has no reason to poke his head under here. Any minute he’ll go upstairs or open the door, and I can slip away as easily as I came in.
Minutes crept by and Hightower stayed in the room. At times he paced back and forth. At times he muttered under his breath, about the Vaentysh Boys, about the Tellosian Empire. He never uttered the name of the person Fiercewind had wanted to apprehend, but he didn’t have to. It was clear as day to Fiona that Kevin Lovewood was involved with the kidnappings and Fiercewind knew it. Perhaps she could go to her, and together they might make some kind of plan.
Fiona bit her lip. That probably wouldn’t work. Fiercewind, just like everyone else, had been so insistent that Fiona keep out of all the trouble. But perhaps losing her post as Headmaster would make her more flexible on that subject. It was worth a try at least, wasn’t it?
The cup tore her from her thoughts. It fell with a clink against the hard wooden floor and rolled under the table next to her face sloshing water as it went.
“For hell’s sake,” Hightower mumbled. Fiona’s heart was in her throat as she saw him go to one knee. He groaned. “These damn hips are going to give out sooner than I’d like,” he said to himself. Fiona watched with horror as a reaching hand came under the table, followed by the length of the arm, a shoulder, the dark skin of his neck…
“Lord Hightower!”
The door burst open with a fantastic crash.
“What now?” Hightower grumbled. The arm disappeared.
“Forgive the intrusion sir,” a squeaky voice said. “The Duke requests your presence at once.”
“Alright, give me a moment,” Hightower said.
“Forgive me, Lord Hightower. The Duke was very clear that I am to bring you back immediately, my lord.”
“Fine, fine.”
As the footsteps receded and Fiona heard the door shut behind them she felt as though one of the gods had come down and personally saved her. She counted to one-hundred, peeked out the door, and fled away as quickly as her legs could carry her.
Chapter Eleven
Fiona stormed through the castle hallways, trying to concoct a plan. Hightower and Fiercewind both knew enough to understand that Lovewood was involved. How could Hightower fail to act? He couldn’t possibly be covering up for the Vaentysh Boys…could he? She was positive that Fiercewind didn’t think so, not from the familiar way in which they addressed each other, but Fiona knew that she could rule nothing out.
“Sacrosin!” a throaty voice called to her. Fiona turned to see Donyo Brownwater, a wide foolish grin plastered across his face. “I do hope you’re staying out of trouble.”
Drunk again, Fiona thought with disgust. Did the architect do nothing else?
“Leave me be, Donyo,” Fiona said.
“What seems to be the matter? You’re pacing like a cat in a cage.”
“Everything is fine,” she snapped.
He let out a bark of a laugh and smiled wickedly. “Oh,
good. I was concerned that you might have strayed from the Duke’s instructions to keep yourself out of trouble when I saw you burst from Lord Hightower’s chambers white as a ghost and muttering under your breath.”
Donyo gave her a knowing look.
“Isn’t spying on people Shifter’s job?” Fiona asked. She didn’t have time for this. The more she thought over what she had just overheard the more she realized that someone needed to do something immediately.
“I find it rather refreshing to wander outside the realm of my official duties from time to time,” Donyo said. “You never know when practiced eyes like mine might see something useful.”
Fiona waved him off. Hightower was supposed to be her ally, but it was clear now that that would not be the case. If he wouldn’t help Fiercewind then why would he help her? Fiercewind could maybe be convinced, but not yet. Fiona would need to prove that she could be useful first. That meant there was only one option.
“You’re playing a rather dangerous game, Fiona,” Donyo said. “Lord Hightower is the wrong man to cross in this castle.”
Would the damn architect not relent? “What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Mostly to see your head still attached to your shoulders by the time you leave us,” Donyo replied. “Though I’m starting to think that that might be wishful thinking on my part, the way you’ve been acting.”
That’s when it dawned on her. “Do you really want to help?” she asked.
Donyo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That depends on who I’m helping, and how I’m providing the help.”
“Come with me,” she urged. “I’ll explain on the way.”
Giving Donyo no choice but to follow her or disappear, Fiona turned and quickly began moving towards the stairs that led to the castle courtyard. After several long strides she could hear the fat man wheezing behind her.
“Alright, slow down, dammit,” he said. “What exactly are you trying to do?”