"But how do you explain that I'm young enough to be your granddaughter?" I asked, going back to reading the article.
"Miss Morad, the daughter of Mr. Morad's affair after the death of his wife, has lived in a magically isolated world all her life, unbeknownst to her father. The Morad family rejoices with this family reunification. Miss Morad's story is almost a miracle; she was found studying in the Distance Department of the Marn Magical Academy. For more detail, you can find Mr. Morad's statement on page three."
"Mahalat won't like it," uncle Azzie said, with great satisfaction. "Not only did we accept you into the family and give you his money, but we also deny his parentage completely."
"Won't that provoke him?" I asked, staring at my photograph. If I didn't know it was me, I wouldn't be able to recognize myself at all. Nobody from my previous life would.
"It probably will," uncle Azzie nodded. "I'll be increasing the Academy's protection, making sure he isn't allowed to enter in any form. You should stay away from public places, meanwhile, until we're ready to set a trap for him. Then we'll be able to get rid of him."
"I'll help you," grandpa said. Then he looked at the time in his vizor. "And, speaking of the Academy… Amy, isn't it time for you to go?"
I checked my vizor. Despite all the time zone jumping I'd been doing, the vizor always stayed at the Academy's timeline. There only were fifteen minutes to class.
"You're right!" I exclaimed, running back to my bedroom. "Sorry, Gramps, I have to go."
I dashed into the toilet before I lay in bed, trying to go to the Academy as fast as I could.
Hotel room 1805 was clean. It wasn't even close to the style of living its guest had grown accustomed to. Just white walls, white sheets, a blue pillow, the smell of disinfectant, and decent room service. And not too many questions about a guest who never came out of his room after registering, ordering all his meals to the room. Bland, boring meals they were; oatmeal, bananas, rice porridge, boiled ham, boiled eggs, and warm, boiled water.
The maid, who frequently took some liberties with some fancier dishes, never even looked at the meals, so unappetizing they were. She always left the covered tray, with the daily newspapers on top, in front of the door. Each morning for the last month, she would leave the tray, knock on the door, and leave. It was interesting that the maid, a lover of gossip, never tried to learn anything about the man in room 1805. Nobody seemed to be too interested, despite the strangeness of the situation. The hotel rumor mill had been started by much less mysterious cases, but this time, there were no rumors. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Nada. That was unusual in and of itself, since the receptionists always commented on every visitor, even if it was an offhand comment on their appearance. But this visitor somehow remained under everybody's radar.
As soon as the maid left, and the corridor was empty, the door of room 1805 opened, and a young, blond, olive-skinned and brown-eyed guy grabbed the tray with the newspapers and brought it into his room.
The first thing he did was to open the newspaper. There, on the first page of the Leern Sentinel, he saw a zoomed-in portrait of an eerily familiar woman.
"Mr. Ektolaf Morad's daughter, Amy Morad, has finally been found," the headline said. "Mr. Ektolaf Morad's daughter, Amy Morad, has finally been found."
His father didn't have a daughter. He knew that; the man had refused to marry or take a lover after his mother's death.
This was his daughter. Amy. They kept her name, the commoner name her mother gave her, instead of the much nobler name he had chosen. Sitara.
They had deleted him, his accomplishments, his claim to his best creation. He could see now, in the changed features of this noble face, the strokes of his brush. He created her.
He felt the pain in his side. The boy had beaten him good, and he'd been unable to get a Healer's help. All the Healers reported to the Council. And his brother, Azrikam, that traitor, controlled the Council. Azrikam could find him if he left the smallest cue.
He threw away the newspaper, after quickly scanning the article. After swallowing the meal, he took the bag he kept packed and headed towards the checkout. It was time to move out. It was time to show those weaklings who the owner of the creation was.
21
I ran as fast as I could into the class, jumping into the class right behind Professor Alday.
"Miss Morad?" he asked. He'd seen the newspaper advert. "Are you sure you're a student in my class? I don't have you on my list."
"That's because my previous name was Laurendeau, Professor," I replied. "Sorry, I'm late. Can I go sit?"
"Of course, Miss Morad," he said, looking at me with curiosity.
As I went towards the row where Yllana was seated, I felt everybody in the room was staring at me with curiosity. Nobody was saying anything, but I could feel the stares on my neck.
"Wow," was the only thing Yllana said when I sat next to her.
"I'll tell you everything later," I said, as the lecture started.
Everybody was staring at me. Even the Professor occasionally directed glances at me, curious. They also looked at Martinus, who was sitting behind me.
I don't know if anybody else paid attention to the lecture, but I did my best.
When the class was finished, everybody lingered around, although usually, everybody goes out so quickly, there's a traffic jam at the door.
"So," Yllana asked, while everybody around was holding their breath, listening in, "is it true? That you're a Morad?"
"Yes," I said, "although I've only been registered yesterday."
"And what happened to your face?" Yllana asked. "You don't look like yourself. Or was that your face all along? Have you removed your mask?"
I considered it. That would be a much simpler explanation. Yllana had seen my real face, and I had seen hers. She wouldn't be asking this question for her benefit; she was helping me give the version for the rumor mill.
"Yes," I said. "I took off my mask, now that the truth is out in the open. And father has said he'll transfer me out of the Distance Department. He says I should leave the spot for somebody who needs it more."
"As you should have done from the beginning," Raibert, the guy who first said I was one of the high magicians (and that I only got into the Academy because of that), said.
I felt an arm going around my shoulders, as Martinus stood by me.
"Do you have anything to say to my fiancée?" he asked Raibert, who seemed intimidated. Of course, he never could say anything to Martinus, even when he behaved like an asshole. Martinus then looked around the room, and nobody else said anything. "I didn't think so," he finished.
"So are you still engaged?" Zethe Taibi asked. "Is her family OK with that? You were not mentioned anywhere in the articles."
"That's because our families are negotiating the engagement," Martinus shrugged. "But I'm sure they'll give in as soon as they see how right we are for each other. Right, pumpkin?"
"Stop calling me that," I said. "I'm not orange."
"Well, babe, you never said that before," Martinus then said, teasing me. I pinched him, but he didn't show it. I could see though, by the glint of his eyes, he felt it.
I looked around. Everybody seemed to be absorbing this new information by speculating on it. I could see the vizors in people's hands, as everybody was typing or dictating messages. I shuddered, thinking about everything they would say about Martinus and me.
I didn't want to be the focus of all the stares anymore, so I marched out of the class, everybody clearing the path in front of me, and went towards our next class.
Yllana and I went to the library after class. Not to read, but to get a bit of privacy. Nobody could find us in the immense hall if we hid well enough.
"So what happened?" she asked. "How is it that you look so different? Your face completely changed overnight."
"It happened when I came into the house," I said. "They said I'm a Morad by blood and magic right. It seems like the magic changed me to look more like the rest of them."
"By blood and magic?" Yllana asked. "That would mean you're a full Morad."
"So they said, yes," I confirmed.
"Martinus was so sure that your engagement will continue," Yllana snickered, "but it seems like he will have a much harder time now."
"Why?" I asked. "Grandpa… I mean father wasn't against Martinus. Well, not too against him."
Yllana gracefully pretended she didn't hear my mistake.
"Usually, women are not full members of the family," Yllana said. "Which is how they can join another family and absorb some other families' magic. In your case… Well, I expect the negotiations of how this will be handled will last years."
"Five years," I said. "Until I finish the Academy."
Yllana raised her eyebrows.
"Your father is transferring you to the Academy?" she asked. "Will he let you live in the dorms, too?"
"I don't think so," I said. "I think they expect me to use the portal every day."
"Use the portal every day?" Yllana asked.
"Yes," I said. "Is there a problem? I see everybody using the portals every day at Kaffale house."
"That's because they can afford it," Yllana said. "But do you know how much it costs to use a portal, even once?"
"I didn't even know you had to pay," I said. "Whenever I've used it, I just tapped the coordinates in and traveled."
"That's because you've only ever use portals to go to or from a magical house," Yllana said. "If you had to travel between two other spots, you would have to pay for that."
"And how much is it?" I asked her.
"It would cost around a thousand ducats," Yllana said.
I whistled. A thousand ducats? I was getting paid five thousand ducats a month, and that's for an elite nanny job (because I can handle magical children).
"And why is traveling to and from magical houses free?" I asked.
"Because magical houses provide all the energy for the trip, plus some more," Yllana said. "You pay for the maintenance and the energy when you use a portal. Magical houses pump way more energy into the system than they use, which is why it's free for them. But there's a limit to that, too. Once they use portals too frequently, they have to pay fees. I guess the Kaffales do it to keep the family in the house."
"But the Novaks don't," I noted. "Martinus lives in the dorms."
"It's probably because Martinus, as a full adult with formed magic, does not need to live in the house to strengthen the magic ties; they're powerful enough. When magicians marry and have kids, people return to their houses, so the spouse and children become connected to the house. It's a very delicate link. It's a miracle that Morad house accepted you as an adult."
But then, I may be physically an adult, but apparently, my magic body is that of a child's. If I understood what they said about my undeveloped magic correctly.
"I guess in your case your family will just pay the fees," Yllana said. "Although there are few enough Morads that even intensive use of the portal may not trigger the excess fees."
"And they're rich. They just gave me three hundred million ducats of personal money, can you imagine?"
"They're one of the oldest families," Yllana said, "and the richest. And, considering how few of them there are, they must be thrilled to have an extra family member. There is only so much use you can get out of money."
"By the way," I said. "If you ever need anything… Like if you fight with your family or anything… I'm here to help. And now that I'm rich and own many houses, I can offer you a lot more help than before. I know you aren't my friend because of this, and I don't want to make things awkward between us, but…"
I felt awkward offering Yllana money. She'd been such a good friend, and I wanted to give her everything I could. What's the point of having tons of money if you can't use it to help your friends?
"Thanks, Amy," Yllana said. I could notice she was uncomfortable. "But I'd like to earn the scholarship. Besides, my problem isn't lack of money."
"Fair enough," I said. "I won't mention it again. I just wanted you to know that I won't forget your kindness when I was lost. And thank you. If you ever need anything from me, just say the word."
Yllana nodded, and said nothing else. I could see the conversation was as uncomfortable for her as it was for me. But I didn't know what to say now.
"You're invited to Morad House," I then said, "come anytime you want. I'll be happy to see you. We could have some fun. Now that we know each other officially, you don't have to explain how you know me. And you can tell your mother you were just curious about me and then we became friends."
"That would be nice," Yllana said. "I might take you up on your word and visit you on the weekend. But for now, I have to go home."
"I have to go, too," I said. "There is so much I need to do."
I had to visit the Kaffales and discuss with them my new employment conditions. I hope they don't mind living in a different house. With portals, I could come at any time.
Despite all the money my family gave me, I intended to continue working as a nanny. It seemed like what I was doing was helping little Erynn, and I wanted to be useful.
But the first thing I did when I woke up from my trip to the Academy was to go talk to grandpa. Or my father; I had to clarify that.
When I knocked on his office's doors and the door just opened in front of me, I saw grandpa was sorting out through a pile of paperwork in front of him.
"Hi, grandpa," I said.
"Hi, Amy," he said. "You missed lunch. The leftovers are under a warming spell in the kitchen counter."
Spending all those hours at the Academy made me late for lunchtime here, because the house was at an earlier time zone.
"I'm not hungry yet," I said, grabbing a chair in front of him.
He looked at me and set the pile of paperwork aside.
"All right, Amy, what is it?" he asked, leaning on the table with his elbows, interlacing his fingers and resting his chin on that. "What has you this worried?"
"Everything," I said, waving my hand around.
"You'll have to be more specific than 'everything', dear, if you want me to solve it."
"Well, first, I'd like to know whether you'll be my grandpa or my dad. And is Uncle Azzie my uncle or my brother? I know that you said you're my father to the public, and I don't mind, as I'd rather forget about Mahalat's existence at all, but I need to understand how it works. And who I am."
"You're my daughter. I had to pull my son out of my heart until it bled. That hurt, hurt a lot. To me, you're more the daughter I never had than the child of a man I had to delete from my memories. I can't give him that power again, especially not through you. That's why we did it this way."
"And Uncle Azzie?" I asked.
"While it would be weird to have a brother with such an age difference," grandpa said, "Azzie would struggle to deal with Mahalat's daughter, too. Even more than I would."
"He did call me bad blood," I said.
Yes, I have an excellent memory of slights against me.
"He did. Azzie can be hot-tempered when it comes to his issues; he would never behave like that at work," grandpa said. "Mahalat was never a good brother. Or a good son. Or a good person. To have you come into the family fresh, without the baggage Mahalat would introduce, seems like the best solution."
"So we will all pretend I'm your daughter? And Azzie's sister? When you haven't even ever met my mother, or been on Earth?" I asked.
"Yes," grandpa said.
"Hiding family secrets like this doesn't seem to be the healthiest attitude to deal with the issue that makes you uncomfortable," I pointed out.
"Screw healthy," grandpa said, shrugging. It was the first time I'd heard him swear. "Let's do what works for now. We may eventually find a way of dealing with the truth, but for the moment, this is necessary. Denying Mahalat's parentage is also a way to show him our opinion of what he did to you. Besides, wouldn't you want a better father?"
"I would," I said. I had wished
for a father during my childhood, back when mother was still alright. When she became sick, I just wanted to meet him so I could curse him. After she died and I learned the truth about him, I wanted to forget all about him, for him to leave me alone and let me live my life. The word 'father' or 'dad' seemed too hostile to me now, the word for a man who wanted to mold me to his will. "I'll call you Pops instead of Grandpa," I decided. "That way, it's ambiguous. And I'll call uncle Azzie Azzie, and Aunt Cloris just Cloris."
"Brilliant," grandpa said. "That works for me. I'm sure Azzie won't like it, but then, Azzie doesn't like anything."
"So, Pops," I said, tasting the word in my mouth. It was different, but not unpleasant. "What did you tell the Kaffales? I need to go talk to them, as I'll be working with Erynn tonight. I'd like to know what you told them."
"Well, I informed them of our family circumstances," grandpa said, "and when Moira asked me if you'd like to break the contract, I told them you're going to stay longer. Until Erynn gets over her magic malabsorption phase."
"And what did she say?"
"She was surprised we guessed the issue. And it's true: Emere and Ion are not magically compatible. Not incompatible, or their marriage wouldn't have happened at all, just not compatible. Apparently, they liked each other a lot and thought nothing would happen. See why you shouldn't break with tradition? And why you should listen to your elders."
"What will happen with Erynn?" I asked, ignoring the moralizing part of his speech. I had gotten attached to the quiet imp with a mischievous smile. The way she sometimes looked at me, as if she had the wisdom of all the ages, was adorable.
"She'll be fine," grandpa said. "Once her body builds her magical channels. When she's a year old. Or once the process is normalized. We think your healing powers might have strengthened when you joined the family. Of course, they might have disappeared, too. We need to see."
"What do I do now, Pops?" I asked for his advice. I would do what I wanted, anyway, but I wanted to know what he thought.
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