by T J Muir
In that moment, she realized how much she liked being able to do magic. She imagined impressing her parents and her uncles with this, but there would be no way to show them. There was no proof it had ever happened.
Staring at her hands, something on the 'table' caught her attention. It seemed to be a small, bronze token. Dismissing her magic spell, she bent over to pick it up. It was nothing she recognized. There was a strange symbol carved on both sides. She stood up and froze, almost dropping the token. Coming down the trail behind Jaresh rode five Faenyr. All had bows slung across their backs. All five of them had their eyes on her.
Her heart raced in panic as she dashed back to the edge and scrambled down to the ground. But she knew they’d seen her, had looked her right in the eye. The terror Diya felt surpassed anything she had felt facing her parents, or even when she had flown for the first time. Would they think I desecrated their sacred site?
She stood on the far side of the boulder trying to compose herself and come up with something to say. What if they had simply shot her with one of those dangerous looking bows? Would they?
She heard voices and realized she couldn't stay hiding behind this rock forever. They didn't sound angry, so with a deep breath she walked back toward Jaresh. He was talking easily with the group. None of the Faenyr looked angry. In fact, it looked like they were laughing. Were they laughing at me? She joined them, looking back and forth at the exchange, waiting for a break.
After a few moments, Jaresh turned to her. “Meet Chiyama, Trefahl, Yndris, Ryllek, and Driamah,” he said, pointing at each of the Faenyr in turn.
Each of them dipped their heads as their names were spoken. Diya was still worried, but these people didn't look or feel cruel. They were just foreign, beyond her understanding, but she felt drawn to like them. They made her think of flickering starlight, deer scattering butterflies and other sensations which niggled at her senses. It reminded her of the way Jedda always made her think of butterflies and roses— only this was stronger. Diya was bespelled.
She turned back to Jaresh. “Why were they laughing? What did you say?”
Her question must have distracted him and he turned to her. “They thought you were very funny.”
“Funny?” She felt indignant now.
“That isn't quite the word. They found it funny how you would – challenge— no.. risk, the gods.”
A hard knot formed in her stomach as her gut clenched up. “But— it's just a giant rock. Right?” After all, there were no giants or Tarish
Jaresh turned back to the five Faenyr. Another quick exchange followed, along with further laughter. She tugged at his sleeve. “They think you are very brave— or very foolish.” The knot remained but at least she hadn't broken any sacred laws. That was a relief.
“Oh. I found this. Up on the table,” she said, nodding back toward the site as she handed Jaresh the token. “Maybe it is theirs?”
Jaresh took it and reached over to hand it to Ryllem, who took it and turned it over.
Jaresh listened to him and then translated what he said. “It is a Yrrhal. It can either be a prayer left to the gods or a message from the gods. This one has that symbol. He said it represents change.”
Ryllem reached down from his horse, extending his hand out to Diya and returning the token.
“Does he mean for me to return the – the yrrhal— to the table?”
Jerash shook his head. “I don't think so or he would have said. I suppose he thinks it is intended for you—carry it–for now.”
“Why?”
A tiny shrug. “Don't ever expect clear answers if you ask a Faenyr something. But I will ask for you or try. My Faenyr isn't that fluent and I guess at a lot of what is said.”
She nodded. “Yes, ask.”
Another quick exchange occurred before he turned back. “He just confirmed what I thought. I think he said that the meaning of it would become clear to you.”
What was that supposed to mean? She looked down at the token again, wondering. Maybe the symbol on the token was just confirming the changes she had been through. Maybe, it was a sign that things were okay and would get better?
They talked back and forth, using a musical, lilting language that was pretty to listen to even if she didn't understand a single word they were saying.
Finally they took their leave, nodding their heads politely and then they disappeared into the forest.
It was the middle of the night before they got back to the house. When they arrived, it occurred to her that Jaresh probably lived a good distance away.
“I'm sure it would be fine for you to use one of the guest rooms tonight,” she said, trying to be a good host and friend as they came into the stable yard.
“Thank you. I think Ashok already has arranged for one of the guest rooms.”
Having belatedly realized that offering Jaresh a place to sleep was probably inappropriate, she was relieved that this had already been arranged. “Oh, good. Your horse deserves a rest.”
He hopped down as though he hadn't been riding all day. Diya was far less graceful, hitting the ground with a thud as her legs turned to jelly beneath her. However, she was determined to take proper care of her horse, and she made a stall up for Jaresh's horse as well—making sure both horses were cool and dry before offering them water and hay.
When did this saddle become so heavy? She lugged it into the tackroom and flung it over the stand, feeling the muscles ache in her shoulder.
When she got back, Jaresh was checking over both horses for any signs of injury or soreness. Satisfied that everything was okay, they headed towards the house. Across the lawns, the two moons cast eerie shadows everywhere—Breshan's strong, bold light while Triappa's softer, dimmer light cast shadows like an echo.
Just before they got to the door, Jaresh caught her by the arm. “I just wanted to say something,” he said. He sounded hesitant, but in the dim light, she couldn't read his expression.
She waited. Was he going to invite her into his bed? She bit her lip, wondering— and wondering how she would respond if he offered to kiss her.
“I don't know you very well. And I like you. I don't know why you're here, but I'm really glad I have had the chance to meet you and spend time with you. Today was fun.”
She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
“Just so you know, it doesn't matter to me, but whatever you're doing here,” he waved his hand toward the house as he spoke, “it didn't take me very long to guess that you’re so'har.”
CHAPTER Twenty-seven
Breshan’s Balls! By the nine hells and all the gods!
She yanked herself loose and flung the door open. Without looking back she slammed it shut behind her. She leaned back against the door as though barricading herself in.
By the nine hells!
She had just slammed the door on Ashok’s guest. Realizing what she had done, she spun around and opened the door again. She saw Jaresh standing there looking confused and amused.
“Wait! Get back here. You can’t leave,” she hissed. Then she looked back to see if any lights were on in the house. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. “No, wait,” she said, marching past him. “Back to the barn!”
“What?” he asked. “I thought you might want me to leave.”
.“Barn. Now!” she said, keeping her voice low.
When they got to the barn, they swung open one of the double doors, letting moonlight shine inside. She stopped and listened, cocking her head for any little sounds that might be out of place.
“We were just here,” Jaresh said drily. “I’m fairly certain the barn is still empty.”
She raised her hand sharply to cut him off without looking back. She wasn’t taking any chances that Ben’s cousin or Hadrin might have crept in after they had left. This was too important to take that kind of risk. She could just imagine Zaylin gloating about her identity, or worse, Hadrin and Letta dashing off to inform Jinna as though they were reve
aling some juicy town gossip.
Satisfied that they were alone, she spun around to face Jaresh. “How do you know? What do you know? Who told you? Does anyone else know?” she fired off the questions faster than he could answer them.
By the third one, he held up his hand, interrupting her. He blinked, shook his head and tried not to laugh.
“You think this is funny? It’s not. What, are you trying to get me killed?” Diya hissed, keeping her voice low and looking around for anyone that might be hiding. She heard Rillyn’s and Marrick’s warnings in her head. No one must know where she was. Ever. Her life depended on keeping her identity a secret.
Jaresh burst into a fit of laughter, clearly amused by her distress. Then he stopped. He looked at her intently and took a step closer as though he were trying to see her better. His brow furrowed, confused. He opened his mouth and then closed it again and blinked. “Wait,” he said, lowering his voice. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re not joking.”
“No. I am not joking. You’re right, okay. I am so’har, from Tatak Rhe.” Diya realized she was doing exactly what she had been warned against. Part of her screamed that this was the worst mistake of her life but another part decided that her best course of action was to be honest. Jaresh seemed like a genuine and honorable man. Trying to perpetuate her lie might make things worse and only make him more curious. Then he might start asking questions or talk directly to Jinna and Ashok. She couldn’t afford to lose her hiding place, at least not until she heard from Jay.
It would be better to gain his trust and sympathy. “Why do you think that I, a so’har, would be playing nursemaid to a bunch of spoiled kids out in these backwoods?! Away from my home, my family, everything, if it wasn’t a life or death matter?! You have no idea what you’re stirring up. Lives are at stake. Including mine!”
He raised his hands to stem the tide of words. “No, no, I am not going to tell on you, not at all. I didn’t know, didn’t understand. I just thought that maybe you were a spoiled child who was angry at their parents or that this was a spiteful maneuver to get revenge against your family for cutting off an inheritance or trying to make you do something, or something like that.” His words were soothing, calm and measured. “I only brought it up because,” he stopped for a moment, frowning.
“Because what?” Diya asked, still upset and a little angry.
“Well, I didn’t think it was that important. Also I wanted to let you know you weren’t doing a very good job at hiding your identity.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, realizing how sharp her voice sounded.
“Well,” Jaresh said, sitting down on a hay bale and plucking at some loose strands. “I had my suspicions while we were riding. That’s why I decided to go up to the ruins.”
“I thought you just wanted to show me where you used to play!”
“I did,” he said. “In part. I also wanted to see if you’d be familiar with the high-dialect. That’s a very unusual skill to have.”
“Pasha speaks it!” she said, her defenses up.
“Pasha doesn’t actually speak it. Yes, he is studying it. He has been learning the basics and can likely recite passages he has memorized. That is not the same as speaking it or knowing it well enough to translate a sacred inscription.”
“How would you even know?” she asked, turning it around and challenging him.
“Because I was taught the high-dialect growing up, just like you.”
“Wait. What?” she asked, not sure she had heard correctly. “You’re saying you’re so’har?”
He laughed. “You sound surprised.”
“Why were you hiding your identity?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You didn’t introduce yourself with your title,” she said, accusing him of deceit.
“I didn’t think it was that important. It was breakfast, not a formal event. Do you introduce yourself to everyone as so’har?”
Diya clenched her jaw and glared at him. She hated that he was right. “So you suspected that I had been lying about who I am? Before you’d even met me?”
Jaresh shrugged. “Small town. I’d already heard about the southerner helping with Marrick’s family. When I saw you at breakfast, I had a pretty good idea already.”
She felt her shoulders tighten. So he had lured her into a trap, deliberately baited her. And she had walked right into it, blindly. How had she not seen it? He seemed so friendly and trustworthy. That was no excuse. She knew that.
None of that matters now. He knows.
Diya rubbed her face with both hands, realizing that she might be able to salvage the situation. Maybe she could turn Jaresh into an ally. “So what made you suspicious?”
From the look his face, Diya was sure he was about to make a rude comment but then he must have reconsidered because he paused and his expression changed. “Well, for starters, you carry yourself with an air of confidence, as though no one would ever dare to question you or defy you. Generally, the governess is not the voice of authority in every room.”
“I’ve known many wealthy merchants who--”
Jaresh raised his hand, stopping her. “Not in the west. And not with that level of arrogance.”
Diya bristled, hearing herself described that way.
Jaresh cocked his head. “See, this. You’re talking to a so’har as though you are equal or superior. A merchant’s daughter would be chastised if a so’har spoke to her this way.”
Diya frowned. She thought back over their earlier conversations and her relationship with the others in the house. “I thought I had been doing fairly well.”
Jaresh shrugged. “Maybe for a couple of children and the house staff who have no basis for comparison. They see all southerners as uppity and conceited. I don’t think it will take very long for Ash to put it together.”
Diya began to think back over all of her interactions, in the village or even with the seamstress. Did they see her as arrogant? “But you’re so’har and I remember when you dealt with Zaylin in the village.”
Jaresh shook his head. “That’s different.”
Diya rolled her eyes. “Of course it is,” she said, sighing.
“First, that was a situation that required authority. He was drunk and about to create a disturbance. Second and more importantly, I am his so’har. I am his authority. He knows me personally. I know almost everyone within the so’harat. Can you say the same?”
Diya wanted to argue but couldn’t think of anything to say. Jaresh was right and that bothered her. She wished she could say that her father knew all of their people but she knew it wasn’t true. Rillyn ruled through the council, advisors and appointed officials. She couldn’t remember a single occasion where her father had gone out and dealt with his own people directly. Even the occasional appeal to the high council either came through a proxy or was dealt with by an appointed official. That was how all the so’harats functioned. Evidently not, she corrected herself.
She looked across the aisle to where Jaresh was perched on a small stack of hay bales. A barn cat dashed by with something in its mouth, still squealing.
“Ewww,” she said with a shudder and jumped backwards.
“Would you rather have mice in the house?”
“No, definitely not,” she said with a half-laugh.
“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked.
“The cat will be fine,” Jaresh said.
“What?” she asked, confused. “No,” she said, trying not to be annoyed by Jaresh’s glibness, “about keeping my secret.”
Jaresh plucked a strand of hay out of the bale next to him. “Well, most people will shrug it off and just assume your cover story is correct. Wealthy merchant’s daughter, spoiled and heart-broken, and southern.”
“But what about Ashok? And Jinna?”
“Well, a few little suggestions might help. Try not to make eye contact so much. And try not to look so sure of yourself.”
Sure of herself? Diya laughed. Sh
e hadn’t felt sure of herself since she had left Tatak Rhe. “Confident? Arrogant? I’ve no idea what I’m doing most of the time.” She felt a weight lifted as she admitted that out loud.
“Well then, you are adept at figuring things out.”
Diya thought back to her arrival--the fight with the twins, managing Tilly and making an ally out of Esha. “Don’t most people find solutions to problematic situations?”
“They do, or they try to. You seem particularly successful at it though.”
Diya smiled. People had always called her beautiful and complimented her clothes. For all of the times she had received praise, it wasn’t for being clever or resourceful.
Just then Jaresh yawned stretched, and she realized her eyes were burning and felt heavy.
“It’s been a very long day,” she said. “But I’m glad. It’s a relief to have someone I can talk with honestly. I shouldn’t have kept you up this late.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said, rolling his neck to work out a kink. “At least I can sleep in. Ash needed to speak with me but at least he doesn’t expect me first thing in the morning.”
CHAPTER Twenty-eight
The sun was streaming in through the curtains when Diya gave up and admitted defeat. She had fallen back to sleep twice already and now she lay in the bed luxuriating in the quiet. With Ashok back in the house, she didn’t feel the need to rush out of bed. She would have curled back up, except she had drunk too much tea the night before and could no longer ignore her discomfort.
Once she was up, she resigned herself to being productive and functional. She peeked in to see if Tilly needed help with her clothes but the bed was empty and clothes were strewn all over the place.
She found Tilly in the small dining room, perched on her father’s lap. They were leafing through all of Tilly’s work sheets. Tilly would pull a sheet out and point to the things she wanted her father to see. It was an interesting one-sided conversation.
“Oh, did you draw this bunny? That’s a very good likeness. And quite the clever looking rabbit, don’t you think? I like the way his one ear flops over a bit. It looks like he is about to go on quite an adventure. I think he is on a quest to find out where all the world’s carrots have disappeared to. I think we shall have to search the pantry to see if our carrots are also missing, eh?”