“Hmm, you’re a real hero. How did you even get here?”
“Mother Jaa delivered me to the Guardhouse, and I told those old wretches who I was and where I wanted to go.” She laughed. “They were only too happy to oblige if it meant seeing the back of me. I am told it takes three days to get here. It only takes a day and a half if you sleep in the moving box. I told the driver I wasn’t interested in staying in a shack in the...what is it called?”
“I believe you refer to the forest. You skipped the part where you stopped in on my father.”
For the first time she looked abashed. “I did not see him. I couldn’t. There was too much to say, and not a word of it would matter, if I didn’t speak to you and deliver my message first.”
“A message? Then you didn’t come here to confess. Something’s happened, and your hand has been forced. What is it?”
“Two things, actually. First, the Zaal is planning on sending your ‘uncle’ and his kin through The Door to Mistra as soon as you open it for trade.”
Rhuun found himself sitting. “What will they do, his kin? Here on Mistra?”
“Feed. They will feed. And once here, they will make this their new home. They will feed, and then they will spawn.”
“Another Door.” Rhuun shook his head. “That’s your plan?” The idea of the daeeve diving into one Door and out another, he could picture it clearly. But the amount of power needed to perform such a thing, that he couldn’t imagine.
Hellne nodded. “I won’t be alone. And I am not without ability. Ilaan wasn’t Jaa’s only student, although he’s far beyond my skills. He has his own part in this.”
“I’m sure he does.” He wondered what they were up to this time, his friend and his mother.
“I’ll need your mage as well,” she said. “You know the one.”
“Coll?” He didn’t have any other mages that he was aware of. “He’s coming here anyway. I’m having him examine the dead girl.” And then he had to stop and tell her about his own plan with Ilaan, about Auri and Lelet, and about a dead demon.
“You’ve been busy,” she said. “Anything else?”
“Yuenne is alive,” he told her.
Her face didn’t show a thing, a testament to her years on the High Seat. “Hiding among the humans. And it’s Ilaan’s intention to capture him, as Yuenne once snatched you from Mistra? And then what?” She cocked her head at him. “I’d heard you and Ilaan were at odds. But here you are, following his plan. He has you and your human woman playing a dangerous game with this Auri character, if Yuenne is his patron. And what does Yuenne want, I wonder?”
“Ilaan said it was his intention to procure enough of my blood to open The Door himself and go home.”
“Using his human man, who he’s taught to hate you, as his executioner. That’s the Yuenne I remember. He hated getting his pretty white silk dirty. And he’s promised this boy a bright future back home, no doubt.”
“He’s promised him your seat. He made a whole speech about the arcane customs of Eriis, wherein one kills the king to take the throne. Auri has big plans.”
She laughed derisively. “It’s a wonder Yu never made a grab for it himself. He’d rather make up stories and prop up a human than risk failure. Well, I came to ask you to join us at the Guardhouse, but it appears you have your hands full here.”
“Me? You wanted my help?” That was a first.
“With your father. I wanted you to help me with your father.” She looked sad, but it might have been the light. “I have reason to think I was mistaken about his intentions towards me. My anger towards him seems to have been...”
“Misplaced?”
“Unfounded. And I don’t know how to approach him. What to say. I was hoping you would join me there.”
“Light, Wind, and all the daeeve of the hills could join you there, and unfortunately, I don’t think he’d take much notice. He’s old, Mother, much older than any human has right to be. Frankly, no one knows why or how he’s still alive. The last of his wits were spent opening The Door. That’s how it works here. When you do magic, as they call it, magic takes something away from you. I am told Malloy bargained with his own wits. I’m sure he didn’t think he’d need them this long.”
Hellne held her mouth still. “And yet I must speak to him, and he must help us.”
“How? With what?”
“That’s what Coll is for. He says the old masters of the Guardhouse were working on all sorts of charms and designs but after the Weapon, that work was either destroyed or locked away. He says someone who was there would know the right books or even the charms themselves.”
“Blue. And he can... Do what? How does Coll know this? How do you know this?”
“Don’t forget he was a mage for most of his life before he came to your court. He was at the right hand of the Zaal, might have succeeded him if your Glass Girl hadn’t come along. He’s got a deep well of knowledge, and well, you.”
Rhuun looked at her blankly.
“Coll is the sort of man who needs to be helpful. And you are the sort of man who requires a certain amount of help. It’s no wonder he adores you. It’s a perfect match.”
He laughed. “I can never tell when you’re trying to be kind.”
“Well, you’re just not paying close enough attention. Now, I’ll stay here in this city for a day and a night. I can’t face getting back into that rolling box before then. Please plan on entertaining me that long.” The look on his face must have given him away because she laughed. “One nice day, surely you can manage that with your poor mother?”
He remembered his morning meeting with Althee and had never been more grateful for the presence of a human. “I’m certain we can work out something.”
She nodded, pleased. “One nice day, and then we save the world.” She paused. “Both of them.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mistra
Lately Jan found himself playing a little game: I Never Will Again.
I never will again hear anyone call me Yuenne. I’ll never hear Siia’s voice. I’ll never see the faces of my children...my first children.
He was playing it now.
I never will again—soon—share a roof with this pretentious jump mouse. He and his little grasping palmful of flame will be far behind me. Behind us.
“More tea?”
Jan looked up from his notebook. Since it was Lelet who spoke, he nodded and put on what he hoped was a kind face. She could play a similar game, if she could find the strength. He’d watched her grow thinner and more anxious over the last few weeks, since she’d made what should have been a triumphant return to Mistra with the prince at her side. Knowing them both, he strongly suspected she might be playing a game of her own, right under their noses. It turned out he was right, and since Auri had caught her joining with her lover, he’d brought down a sort of discipline the girl had likely never encountered before. She was rarely let out of her room and never without an escort. Auri—foolishly but entirely in character—had explained his plan to Lelet in great detail. The girl might not be the greatest critical thinker of her day, but she was undeniably brave and no doubt had been given some choice tidbit of information she could use. And what humans lacked in brains they made up for in spite. He smiled to think of the sort of revenge the pair of them would most likely take on Auri.
Until then though, their plan was proceeding, his and Auri’s. Soon, an engagement party. Auri would have his precious family number and a hand in the va’Everly’s silk business. Of course, he had a string of ideas, financial tricks Jan couldn’t pretend to understand. He imagined it all boiled down to stealing, and after discussion with his friend, his new and delightful friend Miss Carleigh, it appeared he was correct. She knew all about numbers, adding them up in ways that benefitted her clients was her job and her joy. As much as he found her alluring, he couldn’t understand half of what she said, but he understood this much: being without a number appeared to be much like being born outside the Arch—theft came as na
turally as drawing breath. She didn’t say the last part, being rather progressive in her views; he just assumed as much.
Whatever Auri intended, the result was to leave the family destitute and humiliated. And after that, the blood of the prince—once he was dispatched—would open The Door, and together Jan and his protege would return to Mistra. Auri saw no reason why he couldn’t seize the High Seat at once, not with his clever and resourceful Counselor at his side. Money, a number, and a throne. Auri had his sights set on two worlds. Jan laughed to himself at how it must have galled Auri that he couldn’t keep the girl from her prince even when she lived under his own roof.
Jan wasn’t entirely sure when he realized not only was it not his plan anymore, but that he strongly, actively wished to see it fail and see Auri left with nothing but ashes. No, he knew. He looked down at the child playing with her cat by his side. Not ‘the’ child. His child.
He watched Lelet busy herself at the cart with the service, pouring his tea with lemon, sugar and no cream as he preferred. She glanced back over her shoulder towards Auri, who was engrossed in his own book—reading, not writing. He didn’t look up. Jan could almost hear the girl’s heart pounding. He found he was excited to see what she would do. Was she ready to join the game?
He accepted the cup and saucer, noting her wide-eyed expression. Next to the cup was a biscuit, turned on its back. On the back, inscribed with the edge of a spoon—Auri wouldn’t let her get anywhere near one of his precious knives—was a tiny, tiny message.
Help me
He laughed aloud, startling the already quivering Lelet and making Auri look up from his book.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?” For once, Sally had been quietly playing with Dolly, serving the little silver cat a miniature cup of imaginary tea on the carpet next to Jan’s feet. She was only allowed in the big house if she Behaved Like A Grownup, and so she did. But it was right and appropriate to ask, wasn’t it?
“Nothing, sweet. And I will. In fact, I’ve already begun.”
Lelet stared at him, turning even paler. The poor creature looked half a daeeve. Really, she ought to get out in the air, he thought. He ran his thumb over the scratched message to obscure it—just in case—and handed the biscuit to Sally, who ate it in three bites.
“Begun what?” Auri asked.
“Thinking about your party, of course.” Auri frowned, and Jan beamed back the warmest smile he owned. “We must make an effort to have everyone attend. Lelet’s family must be there, of course. Any chance you might lure your father and brother back from the hills?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, not that she could have. Her face was white with panic. “And your friends from Eriis, what a treat for them to see their companion happily wed at last. The young lady, do you think she’d join us?” His plan didn’t specifically involve Aelle, but it would be good to look on her face one last time.
“Nuh...maybe? Aelle, you mean?”
He gave her a hard stare, and she reacted as if she’d been slapped, right to the high color suddenly blooming in her cheeks. Good. She’d need to do better and quickly, rather than drift around like she was already defeated.
“I can’t say,” she continued. “I suppose I might send word to Olly. Perhaps I might talk with Althee about getting a letter to him.”
“Letty, you know better than to ask. You’ll do no such thing. In fact, I think it’s time for you to retire. You look awfully tired. Back to your room, off you go.”
She smiled, and Jan thought she learned that smile from the court of the High Seat. It was a good one.
“As you say. Good night, Jan. Sally—hugs please!”
Sally leapt to her feet, her cups and saucers abandoned, and threw herself at Lelet, who caught her and hauled her up in an embrace. “Oof! You weigh as much as two horses!”
The child giggled. “I love you, Auntie Lelet.”
“Well, I love you too, Princess Sally.”
Jan did not miss Lelet dashing tears from her eyes as she left, heading back to her prison. Jan thought those might be tears of relief--he hadn’t betrayed her.
“Princess, I think it’s time we were off to home as well. Can you say goodnight to Uncle Auri?”
He was gratified to see the surprise on Auri’s face when the girl leapt onto his lap and threw one arm around his neck. The other pressed against his chest as she nestled against him. “I love you too, Uncle Auri.”
He was frozen in place. Jan didn’t imagine too many little children had ever hugged him, much less gifted him with their affection. Finally she climbed down, and Jan followed her towards the door.
“Jan.” Auri was watching him closely. Jan paused in the doorway. The cat rubbed against his legs. “What was all that about? With the party? You haven’t seemed all that...enthused lately.”
Jan smiled again, and let the cat’s tail slide through his fingers as she followed after her mistress. “We have so much to look forward to. It’s all starting to come together. Good night.”
Once in their cottage, Jan and Sally sat in their favorite chairs in front of their own fire.
“How did we do?” asked Jan.
Sally grinned. She held out her hand. On her palm was a thin layer of gum. Pressed into the gum was the sharp outline of a key.
Jan clapped. “You are the most clever! Good girl.” He carefully peeled it off her little hand and set it aside. “We won’t talk of this again, remember?”
“‘Specially not in front of Uncle Auri,” she parroted back. “And it’ll make Aunt Lelet happy, and it’s a secret.” She held up the fingers of her free hand, and he tapped them three times. That, she told him, meant they were a team. It was a human thing. He didn’t know where she’d picked it up. I, he reminded himself, am a human thing. The next thing would be a walk to the druggist, where he knew a replica of any key might be made. That was the work of an afternoon. Now it was time to move the plan forward—his plan. His and Sally’s.
“Do you remember we talked about going someplace where it’s warmer?”
“Swimming,” she reminded him. “That’s what we talked about.”
“Yes, we’d be able to go swimming whenever we want. Would you like—”
“Dolly can come, right?”
He paused. The girl was a step ahead of him. “Well, we can’t leave her here. Who would serve her tea? I was thinking about asking Miss Carleigh, as well.”
He’d asked Carleigh a great many things, trying to understand numbers and how to bend them. How to relieve someone of their finances, for instance, without leaving a trace. And how she felt about a change of scenery. She had given him her answer after only a day and a night, agreeing some warm weather would do them all some good and a new house on a sunny beach would be a fine place to spend their lovely new money.
Sally slid off her chair to play with the tassels on the edge of the rug. “I like Miss Carleigh.”
“And Peit, she’d be sad without him, wouldn’t she?”
Sally wrinkled her tiny nose. “He’s a boy.”
Jan laughed. “He certainly is.”
She looked up. “Can Auntie Lelet come? I bet she likes swimming.”
He sighed. “I’m afraid she has some very important things to do here. I know she’ll always think of you.” And even though it couldn’t be true, he added, “and perhaps we’ll see her again one day.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll go on a boat.” Then she looked up at him, he thought rather slyly. “Well, what about the puppies?”
Rushta. He’d forgotten about the litter, now half grown and fortunately dwindled to two, that Carleigh had swarming around her garden. “Ah, I don’t know how Dolly would feel about...”
Sally’s lip quivered. Her huge dark eyes welled up.
“I suppose we can at least talk about it.”
Any trace of tears vanished, and she grinned at him again and again lifted her fingers. He dutifully tapped against them. “Team Puppies,” she cheered.
“Team Puppies,” he
was forced to agree. “You are a fierce negotiator.”
I will never sit on the High Seat or walk under the sky of my homeland, but at least, at least I am on Team Puppies. He realized he felt something new. It might be satisfaction.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mistra
As long as he kept the eyeshades on, Rhuun was pleased to find he could go wherever he wished on Mistra and remain anonymous. He felt like he was in a costume, as if on stage—a thought that returned Calaa to mind, with both fondness and annoyance—or a character in a book. He felt like other than himself. I should have gotten a pair of these ages ago. It’s almost as good as being invisible.
Today he wouldn’t be invisible, or even himself, really. He’d be playing the role of an investigator. For the thousandth time, he wished Ilaan were with him. He’d have relished this sort of thing. Today he was to see the object of his visit to Mistra.
“I’ve gotten you an appointment,” Althee had told him over breakfast. “They say he’s ‘quite lucid.’” She laughed bitterly. “Of course he’s lucid.” She laid her fork next to her plate of ignored eggs and discarded bacon and went to the window of his suite—the new one that she had found and arranged for him, with added security and significantly less spying. She was certainly proving her worth, between entertaining his mother and finding him this lovely spot. Out the window, the city—its river and bridges and parks—glowed in the early sunlight.
“But,” Rhuun reminded her, “he wasn’t always. Am I correct?”
She didn’t reply, just kept gazing out the window.
He was sorry he’d mentioned it. He didn’t like to distress her further. That didn’t make it any less true, unfortunately. “You’re certain you won’t join me?”
“He doesn’t want to see me. He asked for Lelet, but she...isn’t up to it.”
His fingertips grazed his breast pocket, where Lelet’s letter was stashed. He’d read it a thousand times and was torn between anger and grief. Even though he knew it must be a lie, there was something about it that made him feel panic. Auri must have had them followed or somehow found out about their secret meeting. If he laid a finger on her... He hadn’t shown it to Althee. He wasn’t ready.
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