by Jada Fisher
“Who did what on purpose? Crispin?”
“Hardly. Your little boy has a head on him. He wanted you to come be with him instead of inside studying, so he made a scene until you arrived.”
Ukrah looked from Voirdr to Cassinda and back. It hadn’t been long since their journey together, just four short months, but the girl looked like she had leapt a few years ahead. She’d grown so she was evenly matched with Ukrah, although she still had a delicate, willowy frame. The round childness of her face had faded, leaving finer, pointed features. She was as ethereal as ever, but with a hint of danger under the surface. Like a flower that was a bit too beautiful or a bird with plumage a bit too illustrious.
“He’s not even a year old. You think he could do that?”
“I think your dragon can do many things. He just plays helpless because he likes being treated like a baby. For being an orphan from the wilds, you sure do seem to coddle everyone around you.” Ukrah opened her mouth to protest, but Cassinda just laughed. “It wasn’t an insult. Kindness comes at a premium around here. It figures it would take a foreigner to come along and show how easy it would be to give it away for free.”
Ukrah didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained quiet. That wouldn’t last, however, as Cassinda rocked back and forth on her heels.
“I heard that Dille came in late last night from one of her scouting rides. I bet you anything she’ll send for us tonight.”
“You think?” Ukrah asked, barely suppressing a groan. Not that she didn’t appreciate the magic lessons and what they allowed her to do with her abilities, with the control that they allowed her, but she was just so tired and busy. It wasn’t the bone-weary fatigue that came after days of the hunt in the desert, it wasn’t even like the weak sort of ache that came from being close to starvation when supplies ran thin, but nevertheless, it was a persistent sort of exhaustion, one that wound around her limbs and made her mind sluggish.
“I’d put money on it, if I had any.”
“I’m sure that if you ask Athar, he would give you some coins.” Not too long ago, the thought would have been impossible to her—just the thought that money and supplies were available in abundance, able to be picked up whenever one needed or wanted. That not everything had to be carefully gathered and stored and made to last for as long as it possibly could.
“He would, wouldn’t he?” She let out a little bell-like laugh that was so incongruous with how she would use her magic to tear men limb from limb. “Too bad that means I’d have to go somewhere to actually spend it.”
Ukrah huffed at that. She knew exactly what the girl meant. It was unspoken amongst the lot of them, but no one really ever wanted to leave the manor after what happened the last time. Sure, enchantments had been placed, Ale’a and others had been visiting and spending the night more often, but there was still that foreboding sense of ‘what if.’ What if the sect got in again? What if they hurt Eist or the baby? What if it was someone else, someone more dangerous and more willing to kill?
The thought made Ukrah’s stomach churn, bile rising in the back of her throat. She had almost failed the most important person she had ever known, as well as the innocent child inside of her. She had no intention of ever coming close to that again.
“We could always bet our chores,” Ukrah mentioned, thoughtfully.
“Please, like you ever do them anyway,” Cassinda scoffed.
“I take offense to that.”
“Uh-huh, I would too if it wasn’t so fun to watch Crispin try to sneakily do them while you’re distracted.”
The corner of her mouth crooked up at that. She was well aware of how, when she would sweep, she would come across a floor that had clearly been done before she had a chance to get to it. Or how the water barrel in the kitchen would be half-full when she was sure it had been near empty earlier. Chamber pots would be emptied, things dusted—it was always something.
The truth was, Ukrah was well aware that Eist and Athar could afford a whole host of servants, but they only had the two besides Mrs. Kaldonner, and they were more actual staff than what Crispin had explained to her from his manor. Eist had said that it kept them humble, reminded them that they were human and not above everyone. Also…something about responsibility. At that point, Ukrah had sort of stopped listening. She had no problem doing chores. They were simplistic, everyday things that were manageable, instead of world-ending rebirth, hosting a vessel, and dealing with the Sect of the Three wanting her and her kind dead.
“You’re welcome to try to stop him,” she said instead, chuckling.
“Please, I know when something is a lost cause.” Ukrah felt Cassinda’s blazing eyes shift over to her. “You were studying, yes? You want to work on it together before you need to take Fior on that flight?”
“Sure,” Ukrah said with a nod. “I’ll take you on his back if he’s game.”
“Really? You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine,” Ukrah waved her concern away. “Let’s go study. I’m struggling with some of the writing stuff.”
2
How Time Flies
Cassinda had been right.
Ukrah had only barely returned from their ride with Fior, Voirdr whining that she had been gone for so long, when one of Dille’s acolytes came to fetch them. Ukrah supposed that she should probably learn the person’s name, considering she saw them about once a week, but for some reason, that always seemed to slip her mind.
So, as the sun set firmly behind the hills, their little cadre trundled over to the governess’ castle. Ukrah, Crispin, Voirdr, Cassinda, and Helena—two vessels, a witch, a mortal, and a dragon, all in step together. Such a strange mix, and yet it worked so perfectly.
Granted, Dille was always trying to get Crispin to stay at Eist’s manor, but the boy refused. He usually used Voirdr as an excuse, saying that someone needs to watch him while Ukrah was busy learning to harness herself. Everyone pretty much saw through that, and yet he somehow wound up at the lessons anyway.
Crispin had a strange charm like that.
They made their way up to Dille’s quarters, the acolyte leaving them at the door. Ukrah didn’t know why they didn’t meet in the large room they had before, but she guessed it probably had to do something with the assassination attempts, as well as the whole Eist-getting-kidnapped thing.
They were hardly there for more than a moment when the door opened and they were greeted by Dille in her casual robes. It was still somewhat strange not to see her in her formal clothing, but Ukrah was getting used to it.
Apparently the loose, flowing pants and long dress-like shirts with extended sleeves were a popular style in Margaid, where Dille had grown up. Ukrah would like to visit there someday, but she doubted she would get a chance before all this vessel business was solved.
Then again… She had no idea what would come after the vessel business, or if there was even an after at all. It seemed like her life was so bound up in the destiny of the world and preventing something terrible that it all would end there.
But Eist was proof that there was a beyond. That there was a story after the story.
Or at least Ukrah hoped.
“Come, sit,” the governess said, stepping to the side and letting them all file in. “I made that tea you blended for me, Helena. It was lovely.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t have been able to make it without Cassinda’s lovely herb garden. She really has a lovely selection.”
“I should come over and peruse it sometime. Or better yet, have you come tend our personal gardens here. Goodness knows they’ve suffered since you’ve stopped visiting as often.”
“There has been quite a lot going on, hasn’t there?” the redhead said, gracefully folding herself onto one of the divans and tucking her dress under her.
“That certainly is true. Reminds me of my younger years.” Her dark eyes flicked to Crispin. “You are aware that you don’t have to attend these, yes?”
Crispin just looked to her with a blithe
smile. “Sure, let’s say I am.”
And that was the last of it, because soon they were all sitting in their spots, with Dille hauling over several large tomes.
There wasn’t anything too surprising about that. It seemed at least a third of their lessons involved learning ancient rituals or magic theories. But what was unusual was the fact that the book was so old that it looked like it might crumble into dust just from them looking at it.
“I think I know what you are,” Dille said, snapping her fingers. A bottle flew from the other room and into her hand, her thumb popping the cork right from the neck so she could take a long swig.
Helena and Ukrah exchanged glances. “We’re vessels.” That part was already thoroughly established.
“Yes, yes, we all know that. What I mean is, I’ve been trying to reconnect with the old spirits.”
“Wait, reconnect?” Ukrah knew her habit of interrupting was pretty rude, but it wasn’t her fault that people regularly said insane things around her.
Dille continued without faltering. “In my…past life? My future adult life that never happened? I’m not sure what you’d want to call it, but when I grew up as M’baya, I was a shaman of my people. I had a tenuous connection with the spirits.
“But me as Dille never really had that. I’ve been trying to connect to everything that M’baya experienced, but it’s been difficult. Sometimes, it seems all three of us are one, but sometimes, it seems like we’re completely separate.”
“So…you’ve already met who we’re supposed to be?”
“Yes and no. I never really met any of them, but I was aware of them. They sent me dreams and on errands. I knew what they wanted, but I definitely had a choice whether or not to listen. They blessed me with a few things as well, which I both can and can’t remember.”
“…I feel like I am missing a chunk of the story,” Helena said softly, her eyes on the bottle of wine. Dille didn’t miss that and handed it right over, and the plump woman didn’t hesitate to help herself.
“Don’t worry about it. Just understand that Eist and I have experienced life in a nonlinear way. It can be…confusing.”
“Non-linear?”
“Yes,” Dille said without explaining anything at all. “But anyway, we are straying from the point, which is I believe I recognize you, Helena.”
“Me?” the woman sputtered, setting the wine bottle back down. “But you hardly know me.”
“Perhaps it is ironic. Now, mind you, I’m not entirely certain, but I recall that my mother had something like you as a patron. A warm and happy spirit that was about safety and comfort. If I had to guess, I would think you were the spirit of life and compassion. Often associated with motherhood, healing, and care. You were one of the most beloved amongst my people.”
“Spirit of… Oh, goodness. That certainly is a lot.” The woman sat back with a flush in her cheeks. “Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I’m anything other than just a plain tailor.”
Ukrah knew how she felt. If she hadn’t caused her entire village to vanish in a cloud of ash, she might not have believed this of herself. Even still, deep into the night, when she was laying in her bed, she wondered if it was all a strange sort of dream and she had indeed died at the stake.
“Well, it seems you’ll have plenty of time to come to terms with it since Ukrah still hasn’t sensed another.” Dille’s gaze rested on her one more, heavy and solid. “Or has there been any update on that front?”
“No,” Ukrah murmured, looking down at the book. She didn’t recognize the language, but she could sense the words were about the old spirits. Particularly the one housed within Helena beside her. “Nothing.”
Something slick and uncomfortable began to curl in her middle. Helena still felt like an imposter because her skills were all latent. Who had nightmares about saving people? About sewing blessings into their clothes or making them happy. Maybe if Helena had killed everyone around her on accident, she would—
Oh.
Ukrah was jealous.
She chewed at her lip, not liking the feeling within herself. Jealousy helped no one and hurt most people, so it was not something she cared to indulge. And yet the feeling still rose in her, coiling up her spine and seeping into her mind.
It just seemed a bit…unfair. Sure, Ukrah was handy in a fight, but the abilities within her often seemed like they were driving her more than she was driving herself. That wouldn’t be so bad if the power’s first inclination wasn’t to smite everything in sight and figure out the consequences later.
Her stomach pinched, and the normally dormant feeling within her bubbled a bit, as if insulted. That was interesting.
“Ukrah?”
“Huh?”
“I was just suggesting that we try some specific trance work to get you in a state to find them again. And that having you and Helena do it together might increase your ability to find the others.”
“Oh, yeah, if you think that would be best.”
“Yes, but perhaps not tonight.”
Ukrah blinked at her, unaware that she had been so distracted. “Uh, why not tonight?”
“It’s a new moon. Bad time to try connecting to the new magics still establishing themselves.”
Cassinda perked up at that. “Why is that?”
“I’ll explain another time. For now, I’m interested in finding out who you are, Ukrah. Try as I might, I can’t connect you to anything in my memory. And yet you were the first one we found, who was directed to us, so there has to be some significance there.”
“So how are you all gonna puzzle that out?” Crispin asked from where he was sitting on the floor, Voirdr curled in his lap. “I know we’ve all improved on our written common, but something tells me that book ain’t even close to the same.”
“There are ways for us to see if you have a connection without you being able to read the words themselves,” Dille answered to Ukrah like she was the one who’d asked the question. “We’ll start at this one and work our way through the rest. Hopefully, we’ll find something that sparks a recollection or impulse in you sooner rather than later.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. There can’t be too many of these anyway, I imagine? They look older than dirt.”
“Because they are. Or at least the first few dozen layers of dirt. And to sort of answer your question, we’ll go through all of them.”
“All of them?”
“I lost count somewhere after fifteen.” She waved dismissively and handed the book to Helena. “You look through this for now, see if any of it feels right or familiar.”
“Sure. It’s not like I could read it if it was common anyway.”
That gave the room pause, and surprisingly, it was Crispin who spoke first.
“You know, Cassinda and Eist helped teach both of us to read and write. If you’re interested, we could teach you.”
“I s’pose it would be helpful, wouldn’t it? It’s not like there’s much Baldred script around here. Although if you ever need any mining instructions translated for you, I’m your gal.”
“As much as I love this discussion of scholastic achievements, perhaps another time. I know I don’t have long before all of us are too exhausted to do anything more, and I would like to get through at least one of the other tomes.”
Ukrah nodded, pushing down the last of her jealousy. She was what she was, and that was the way it was. It would just be a waste of energy to want to be anything else.
But still…it would be nice.
Three acolytes escorted them back home, their little group thoroughly exhausted at such a late hour. Ukrah would have chuckled at herself if she wasn’t so exhausted. She remembered once when she could go nearly a day and a half without sleeping, making sure she utilized her travel time as much as she could. But under the god-woman’s care, she had grown soft, so much so that staying up well into the night and waking up as the sun rose left her feeling exhausted and groggy throughout the day.
It was so late th
at she was surprised to see Eist sitting in one of the chairs in the sitting room, Athar passed out on one of the thickly-furred divans. She was patting her baby’s back, something Ukrah had learned was ‘burping,’ and there were dark circles under her eyes.
“Oh no, this won’t do at all!” Helena said the moment the god-woman was within sight. “How long have you been up? Do you need a drink?”
“I’m fine. I dozed this evening while Ukrah was out with Fior.”
Nevertheless, Helena bustled over and gently lifted the babe from Eist’s arms, already cooing sweet and motherly things.
“How was your lesson?” the god-woman asked, yawning deeply. Ukrah would be lying if she didn’t agree with the sentiment. She was quite tired.
“Oh, you know, lesson-y,” Crispin said, draping his arm over Ukrah’s shoulders.
“Considering the lessons aren’t for you, I suppose I should have expected that.”
“It was fine,” Helena said, already headed toward the kitchen. “We learned that I might be the spirit of motherhood or something.”
“Not exactly surprising,” Eist said with another nod, and that sharp spike of jealousy struck through Ukrah again. How inconvenient. She hoped that went away soon. “Maybe it would be better to talk about your namedays tomorrow.”
“Whose nameday?” Ukrah asked in surprise, trying to remember if she had been told about a celebration and forgotten. While she still wasn’t nearly as excited about such celebration as folks in the civilized lands were, it was still plenty of fun to gather round and rejoice about someone’s existence.
Eist just gave her a strange look. “Yours, of course. And Crispin’s. Don’t tell me you forgot after how…eventful your first one was.”
Ukrah blinked, trying to do all the math. Eist was already with child at that party…and it was four months since the birth, but the babe was early so that meant… How many months was that?
“Uh… When exactly is it again?” Crispin asked sheepishly, saving Ukrah the embarrassment of having to inquire.