Arri and Keish

Keish- April 18, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 18, 2005
Dear Arri,
It would appear we have rattled Martin Cobbles a bit.
Caden was called to another meeting last night. They aren’t usually so close together, which made Caden nervous, but he went with a story prepared about my plans to attempt to divine Grestean troop movement.
(Not that I actually have such plans. Unless I used a calling spell the information would be nearly useless by the time it got to the knights and soldiers at the border.)
It didn’t matter, though, because Cobbles brushed off Caden’s attempt to explain this and instead focused on my supposed divination about Grestean spies.
“So H’ma probably is real then,” Jace said thoughtfully. “Otherwise there would be no reason to be so interested.”
Caden nodded. “I think so, but you’re not going to like what Cobbles wants me to do.”
Jace raised an eyebrow at Caden, who bit his lip, stared at the carpet and took a full minute to finally speak again.
“They want to talk to Keish. He thinks this information needs to be had more quickly than I can charm it out of her.”
“And I suppose they’ll just apply to Brooksby for an appointment and ask me nicely,” I said, my voice low but thick with sarcasm.
Slowly, haltingly, he described what Cobbles had outlined.
Jace was dangerously quiet throughout.
To be short-- the Gresteans want to abduct and interrogate me quietly, using the threat of scandal to keep me quiet.
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “And without a magician among them how do they expect to stop me from blasting them before they can even get a question out?” I asked incredulously.
Caden reddened a little. “They might be under the impression that you can’t perform magic without a mirror,” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.
I smiled. “They might be under that impression?”
His color deepened. “I may have told them something to that effect. They think you carry a small mirror with you,” he mumbled.
“Well, that proves they’re not magic workers. Anyone with a little knowledge wouldn’t have believed you. You took a gamble telling them something like that, but it works to our advantage.”
Jace still hadn’t even moved. Caden kept glancing at him nervously.
Finally, softly but firmly, Jace said, “No.” He looked at me. “No.”
“Jace, I think we have to consider it,” I replied just as softly.
He shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous. How can you say that?”
“There’s a danger to Caden if we don’t at least consider all of the options,” I said.
Caden seemed to shrink away from us, his nervousness palpable.
Jace didn’t even glance his way. “It’s too dangerous,” he repeated.
I sighed. “It is a risk. But it’s my risk to take if I think it needs to be done. Right now Cobbles isn’t insisting on questioning me himself and they don’t have a magician. They’ll take my reticule with a small mirror and they’ll think I’m helpless. I’ll be anything but.”
“Cobbles sent a request for a magician last week,” Caden said, nearly whispering.
I gave Jace a moment to think about that before saying, “I think we need to do this.”
Jace stood so abruptly that his chair went flying. “No. This is where I draw the line, Keish.”
I gave him a small smile. “You’re going to choose now to play the stern husband?”
He stormed from the room without another word.
Caden stood slowly. “Should I…?”
I shook my head. “No. Let him be.”
We were silent a moment, then Caden murmured some apology and slipped out.
As the door shut behind him, I felt the tears on my face.

That was just after lunch. It’s late now, but Jace still hasn’t returned.
I’ve seen Jace upset, but never with me. We’ve never really fought before.
But I also know he wouldn’t be so upset if he didn’t know I’m right about this.
April 19th
It must have been two am before I heard Jace come in from his dressing room.
I hadn’t been able to sleep, so I turned to him as he slipped into bed. “It will be more dangerous to wait,” I said simply.
He sighed heavily. “I know,” was his only reply before he wrapped his arms around me and I finally found sleep.

This morning neither of us had early classes so we took breakfast in my study along with Caden and Papa and we had ourselves a little council.
Jace is still very unhappy with the situation and Papa wasn’t thrilled either, but we all agreed that if we do this now we’ll have more control.
If Caden goes back to Cobbles and says he can’t lure me away for them to get their hands on me, they’ll find another way. And if they wait until their magician arrives, I could be completely outmatched.
I don’t like being outmatched.
“I’ll follow you. To keep an eye on things,” Jace said at one point.
Papa shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, Jace, but it won’t do. If you’re spotted things may become even more dangerous. A scrying spell would be better.”
Jace blew out his breath in frustration. “The one thing I can’t do.”
“I’ll have it all set up and Ryland can monitor everything, start to finish..”
“And the king wants to set up a signal so that the palace guards can rush to the rescue,” Papa added. “Sir Kinley has enough magic for something to be arranged. He’ll be leading.”
I nodded and made a note to coordinate with him as well. “I’ll need a few days to work with Ryland on the scrying spell.”
“They expect it to take me a week or so to set this up anyway,” Caden put in.
I shook my head ruefully. “These men have a very interesting opinion of me.”
Jace grunted. Rather un-Jace-like. Caden was instantly on guard again. I think he’s convinced that Jace blames this whole mess on him.
“Everyone has an interesting opinion of you, my dear,” Papa said fondly. “Just as they did of your mother.”
I smiled.
“We must protect Caden in all this as well,” Papa said. “If you do magic without a mirror…”
“Then either he lied to them or I don’t trust him enough to be useful to them,” I finished. “Yes I’d considered that. I think it would be better to glamour one, though. Then I don’t have to worry about actually concealing one.”

At one point, Caden and Papa left the room to retrieve books that would be useful.
“I need to do this,” I said softly to Jace, who was still looking pained.
He sighed. “I know.” He gave me a crooked grin. “It’s part of why I love you.”

In the end we agreed on the 26th, which means I have a week to work with Ryland, go over everything with Sir Kinley, and divine dates for all of the royal births. Yes, all of them. Despite hopes to the contrary, I’ve received requests from all five expecting mothers.

In the afternoon post we finally received a response from Brinden and Dameka-- Keaton is to stay with us for another year! Cook made a special dessert to celebrate.
They’ve also asked Jace and me to spend a couple of weeks in Leilan while Keaton is home this summer. I should like to see it, assuming all of this Grestean nonsense is ever resolved.

April 20th
Your letter came just as I was making my way down to breakfast.
I’m intrigued by the enclosed note for Jace, but he’s already off to an early self defense class and as I’m certain you will explain it I will wait and let him open it.
Master Ujifil’s explanation of the healing stone is very interesting. Particularly his explanation of how it could be used as a weapon. A soldier whose wounds were healed immediately in battle would be quite a foe indeed.
I had never really considered the shapes on a globe, but they do look a bit like a puzzle, don’t they? Such questions are certain to make you Dr. Smith’s favorite.
I am glad Nuicui is no longer so dependent on the stone for her health. Who knows what we’ll have to do with it by the end of all this.
As to her magic, I imagine Liop would be thrilled to spend time trading strengthening spells with a winged lion. If I’m wrong, send her here-- Keaton would certainly be game.
Gordo is a good friend. You should be able to tell him everything soon, I think.

Later
I had gotten just that far in your letter when a bleary-eyed Caden stumbled in for some breakfast.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Good morning. Trouble sleeping?”
He shook his head and winced. “Your father asked Tish up to the observatory last night, so I tagged along. I thought they’d never tire, but I had insisted I would escort Tish home. I only stumbled to bed a few hours ago.”
I laughed. “Papa often doesn’t tire until the sun is up. You’re lucky to have gotten that much sleep.”
He shuddered. Then he spotted your letter. “What does Arri have to say?”
I read your account of Sir Raporty’s report.
“They wanted to abduct Euan?” Caden laughed loudly. “Other than upsetting the queen, I’m not at all sure that would have accomplished anything.”
“Well they wanted to blame me. Or Jace and me, at any rate. If they weren’t trying to make it a Roushan plot that could have worked. Heaven knows I’ve threatened to do worse.”
“But even at the worst of the Gazette rumors, no one would have believed that kind of cold-bloodedness from Jace. The court may have been cool to him because he’s Elcaran, but he was still too well respected for any of that.”
I nodded. While a few in Adya would have been suspicious, most would have scoffed at the idea.
If only because I wouldn’t need anyone controlling me to make me do something to Euan.
“If nothing else, this will give me something else to report back to Cobbles. He wants to see me again tomorrow,” Caden said with a grimace.
My nod was absent as I was continuing to read your letter to myself.
Mendel having actually attracted the dragons is a frightening thought. Hopefully he learns to be very very careful of such things in the future. Heavens.
In light of Cobbles’ questions for me, I think we can assume that H’ma is real and simply a well-kept secret. We’ve debated various other alternatives, but none make much sense.
I summarized the council bit by bit for Caden as I ate.
I am inclined to write a letter to Uncle W. demanding a copy of that cloaking spell. Ten hours is very impressive.
Caden says that if Mendel really wants to train in fighting he should spend part of the summer here and “let Jace torture him”.
“I suppose it’s best that Arri isn’t going,” I said slowly. “If only because she’d miss too much school.”
Caden nodded. “And Imato would be furious.”
“That too.” I kept reading. “Oh, but Uncle Quin asked Nysa to go.”
“Only fair. She hasn’t really gotten a quest yet,” Caden responded with a smile.
Instead of responding I dropped my fork, my hand jerking and spilling my tea.
“What’s wrong?” Caden asked in alarm.
“They want Jace,” I said softly, rereading the crown prince’s words.
Caden pried your letter out of my hands and read that part himself. After a moment he sat back, looking stunned, though not nearly as stunned as I felt. “I suppose that’s to be expected since Jace is in fact that skilled.”
I nodded mutely. My hands were cold and I must have looked even paler than usual, because Caden gave me an appraising look and called for Malia.
“Take her upstairs and get her some chamomile,” he told her quietly. “I’m going for Jace.”
“What’s wrong?” Malia asked, somewhat alarmed.
Caden shook his head. “Just a surprise in Arri’s letter that’s not very welcome. You and Ryland should stay close, though, in case anything else is needed.”
He left and Malia guided me upstairs, carrying your letter and the note for Jace. When I was settled on my favorite chaise in the sitting room, she left to get a tea tray and I read the last of your letter.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been so shocked at the idea of Jace going. Imato is his best friend, he certainly has every right to go.
Caden clearly hadn’t explained everything to Jace because he burst into the sitting room with concern etched on his face.
I gave him a small smile and handed him the note from your father.
Jace read it then looked back to me in disbelief. “Captain Etautca wants… me?”
Caden laughed from the doorway. “You’d better let him read Arri’s account, Keish.”
I handed Jace your letter. As he read he sat slowly on the chaise with me.
“Prince Dedric specifically recommended me?” Jace shook his head, amazed. “Second best since your uncle is surely an exaggeration.”
That got a snort from Caden. “You’re ridiculously modest, you know that?”
Jace just rolled his eyes at him. “I’d like to read the whole letter before we discuss this,” he told me gently.
I nodded, leaning back and closing my eyes while he read.
When he had finished I was feeling more settled about the whole thing.
He handed me your father’s invitation. “I am being given a choice,” Jace said carefully.
I read through it and laughed a little. “Imato would certainly have phrased that last bit differently.”
Jace smiled, but thinking about Imato made us both sober again quickly.
We sat in silence. Caden drifted out, muttering something about having no place in such a decision.
Finally I forced out the words I knew I needed to say. “You should go.”
Jace blew out his breath. “If it were any other week…” he trailed off, then looked deeply into my eyes. “I don’t want to leave you alone next week.”
“I know. But I won’t be alone. Imato is the one who’s alone.”
Jace closed his eyes and nodded. “I should go. Captain Etautca wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think it was important.”
I giggled.
Jace looked at me in surprise.
“Sorry, it just sounds so funny to hear you talk about Uncle Quin so formally.”
He gave me a playful glare, than laughed lightly. “I suppose I’ll have to ask what I should call him.” Then he sighed. “I don’t want to leave you at all.”
I leaned forward to put my head on his shoulder. I didn’t want him to leave either. We haven’t spent any real time apart since the wedding, and even before that he was living in the tower for months.
Jace echoed my thoughts. “We haven’t been apart in over a year.”
I buried my face deeper into his shoulder.
Jace wrapped his arms around me and just held me.
“I need to do this,” he said finally.
“I know.” I lifted my head and gave him the best smile I could manage. “It’s part of why I love you.”
He laughed a little and then kissed me fiercely.
I was breathless when he broke away from me, striding quickly to the door of our bedroom and through to his dressing room.
I trailed behind him, hearing Ryland’s voice from the dressing room.
“Are you well, Mistress?” Malia asked, peeking out of my dressing room nervously.
I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Jace has been called away and it was a bit of a shock, that’s all.”
She nodded, looking relieved, and retreated again.
A moment later, Jace emerged from his dressing room holding a rather intricate scabbard. He set it on the bed. Ryland followed with a set of simple soldier’s armor. It wasn’t fancy or heavy like Imato’s knightly suit, but the workmanship was obviously very fine and it matched the scabbard.
Curious, I slowly drew the sword out. It was beautiful.
Jace saw the question in my eyes. “A gift from Tulson and his brothers. After I beat the fencing master at 16.”
My eyebrows went up. I studied the sword more closely. It wasn’t the weapon he took when we took our quest to the cave. Obviously it had still been in Rousha then. I couldn’t believe I’d never seen these things.
“What other secrets are hidden in that dressing room?” I queried, replacing the sword.
Jace laughed. “No secrets, love. All this just… embarrassed me, I guess. I’ve never wanted to be a soldier.”
“You’re ridiculously good at it.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable. “It will be useful now, if nothing else.”
Behind him, Ryland cleared his throat. “Will you be requiring me to accompany you, sir?”
Jace shook his head fervently. “No, Keish needs you here. I’m counting on you to keep her safe through that scrying spell next week.”
Ryland nodded and retreated to attend to the rest of Jace’s packing.
Jace kissed my forehead. “I need to find Kaplan and make arrangements for my classes.”
I nodded. “I’ll go talk to Keaton. He’s bound to hear something soon and I’d rather tell him what’s going on first.”
Jace considered. “I’ll go with you and talk to him first.”
We found Keaton and Master Zart at their lessons. Jace explained the situation, giving Keaton firm instructions that it would be his job not only to help keep me safe in Jace’s absence but to keep my spirits up. Keaton accepted this all very solemnly, squeezing my hand before we left his study.
Jace went off to make his arrangements and I went down to the kitchen to ask Cook to have something ready for Jace to take with him. I’m sure he’ll end up waiting until morning to leave, but it was better than doing nothing and I had no classes to teach because I’d given everyone a study day.
When Jace had everything settled to his satisfaction he found me in my study, trying to call Imato just to give myself something else to do.
“I’ve worked out the details for all of my classes, love, but Caden is off somewhere, so will you help me remember to tell him that Kaplan will be coming daily to continue our sessions for me.”
I smiled. “He’ll be thrilled.”
Jace smirked. “Yes, well, he needs the help.”
“I’ve been thinking,” I said quickly as he turned to leave the room, “I want you to take Argentum.”
Jace turned back to me slowly.
“Argyros is a wonderful mount, but Argentum is stronger. He’ll bring you back safely.”
He considered me for a moment then put a hand on my cheek. “If you’re certain.”
I nodded.
With that, Jace went to check Ryland’s progress and send word to Bryce to have Argentum saddled and ready at first light.
I sat down at my desk to write Gretel a rather stern letter. I don’t care how unfair it seems, she cannot try to follow them. I’m ordering her to stay in Rousha or come to Adya. In case you find that you need to ward the house to keep track of her I’m including a couple of helpful spells.
Not much of a birthday for her, I know, and certainly this is ironic coming from me, but she had better stay put. Imato would never forgive any of us if anything happened to her. Or the baby.

It’s not too late yet, but Jace wants an early start tomorrow.
He asks that information on the route being taken and anything else he needs to know be sent to Sean in Odsreq since he’ll likely have to catch up to the main party. He hopes to make Odsreq by midday the 22nd, but doesn’t want to push too hard too early on.
I’d best send Hermes off now if you are to receive this before your father wants to leave.
My love to everyone, of course.

Love Always,
Keish

PS: I shall, of course, write and tell you everything that happens next week. Jace is not happy about my going through with it while he isn’t even here, but things have already been set in motion and he understands that. He has made me promise to use a calling spell to let him know I’m safe when it’s all over.

Quin to Jace- April 18, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 03 Oct 2012 13:30:00 +0000

April 18, 2005
Master Jace Pren,

I would like to extend a formal invitation for you to join the quest to rescue Imato from the Grestians. I believe your skills as a swordsman and fighter will be invaluable in our success.
Jace, I know that this is a difficult decision and I will abide by your decision if you choose not to join. I have heard so much good of you from Arri and Gretel that I am sure you will make the right decision. I am not your captain, but if you choose to come, I will be your captain during the quest and consider it an honor. If you stay, I will look forward to meeting and getting to know you as my nephew. I have heard that you and Lakeisha are ingenious at helping even at a distance.

Sincerely,
Quin Etautca, Captain of the Elcaran Army

Go to NEXT Letter

Arri- April 13, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 13, 2005
Dear Keish,

I woke up early to study. I had no hope of really finishing, but I got as far as I could. Father surprised Gretel and I by cooking breakfast and bringing it to us in our rooms. He said he thought I would be studying and Gretel was exhausted from stress.
It felt strange to sit in biology. The class has moved on from cells and Dr. Ecrue had a long line of animal skulls on tables for us to compare and consider. He particularly wanted us to consider the size of the brain in relation to the animal. For example, the brain of a cat is much bigger than the brain of a possum despite that fact that they are similarly sized. It was fascinating. He had several dragon skulls and I noticed that the brain cavity of the great green skull was no bigger than a cat’s. However, the brain size of a Beri whitescale dragon is nearly twice the size of a great green, despite the whitescale being smaller overall. Dr. Ecrue said the in general a bigger brain meant a smarter animal, but not always. It was fascinating, but he never mentioned memory or memory brain cells.
Mendel was waiting for me at eleven when biology got out.
“Gordo isn’t expecting to meet for lunch today. Also, you should know that Gordo knows we were on a quest, but I didn’t tell him why or what or anything,” said Mendel.
“Why not?” I asked, “He’s trustworthy.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Mendel, “but the more people know, the more risk we take of the information leaking.”
He had a point, I suppose. I promised to let Mendel know when the next council was and rode Sprigs to the castle. My next class was with Master Ujifil. I had T’ay in my satchel and permission from Father to show it to him.

“A Yugliv healing stone,” said Master Ujifil, respectfully lifting it with both hands and holding it to the light, “Where did you get it?”
“I can’t tell you,” I said, reddening.
Master Ujifil looked at me thoughtfully. Then he nodded.
“Why did you bring it to me?”
“To see what you know about it,” I said, “I don’t know anything about healing stones.”
Master Ujifil set the stone on the exam table and walked carefully around it.
“Healing stones are made by healers,” he said, looking at me, “The creation process is similar to the creation process for a wand with one major exception.”
“A wand?” I asked nervously.
“Yes,” he said, “The major exception is that a healing stone contains a preset amount of magic. A wand is basically a conduit. The magic it contains is merely enough to access the magic of the magician who made it. The magician uses the wand to focus magic and draw it out of him or herself. Someone else can use the wand, but it will draw magic from the person who created it, which is why wands are so dangerous. A wand can literally drain a magician of all magic. The Yugliv healing stones are better designed. In creating a healing stone, the healer begins by endowing it with a specific amount of magic. The stone is a conduit, but it’s limited in how much magic it can draw from the magician, and it draws magic from the magician using it, not necessarily the magician who made it. The magic drawn from the healer using the stone is mixed with predesigned magic placed in the stone. A healer can prepare a complex healing spell, place it in the stone, and then draw it out later with minimal effort, or a weaker magician can draw out the healer’s spell and use it, even though he might not be capable of creating that spell on his own.”
It’s amazing, Keish. If you don’t know how to perform a healing spell, you can have a better healer perform it and store it in the stone for you. Then you can use it.
“Why don’t all healers use healing stones?” I asked.
“One reason, Lady Arri,” said Master Ujifil, his voice stern, “The stones are very addictive. You can actually weaken your own magic by using a stone too often. The more you use it, the more you will want to use it, and the more difficult it will become to use your magic without the stone.”
“Then the stones aren’t good at all,” I said.
“In the right hands, used carefully and sparingly, the stones are very powerful and good. Used recklessly, they are dangerous. There’s a trick to knowing exactly how much you can use them safely, but few healers are skilled enough.” He paused. “Your mother was one of those,” he added, thoughtfully, “I believe she had a stone at one time. Was this it?”
I didn’t answer. Gingerly, I picked up T’ay and looked at it. Light passed through the clear emerald facets and sparkled. It was beautiful. I could feel magic pulsing in it. Poor Nuicui.
There are few people in the world as patient as Master Ujifil. He waited quietly as I thought about his words.
“Master Ujifil,” I said finally, slowly, “is there any way that a healing stone could be used as a weapon?”
He looked surprised.
“I read an old theoretical document a long time ago,” he said finally, “that suggested a healing stone could be set into the handle of a sword. It would be filled in advance with spells for healing wounds. The idea was that the sword could then heal the wounds of a soldier while he was in the very act of fighting.”
“That would be a powerful weapon,” I said.
“Yes, but to my knowledge it’s never been successfully accomplished. A healing stone would be naturally adverse to being installed in a injurious weapon. It would take a powerful amount of magic and skill to accomplish. What are you thinking about, Lady Arri?” His voice became worried.
“I’m not making a weapon,” I assured him, “just trying to understand something.”
“Something you’re not allowed to talk about?”
I reddened, “I’m sorry.”
“Not to worry, my dear. I trust you. Not to worry.” He put a hand on my shoulder, “Just don’t try the stone until you’re more practiced at healing, okay?”
I nodded.

I rode Sprigs home. Emily was back to greet me. She didn’t say much, but helped me with my things. As I passed the kitchen I could hear Cook going over the week’s reading vocabulary with her daughter. It was a nice sound. Father must have completed the interviews and found them all innocent.
Father was at the castle and Gretel was taking apart the quilt blocks that she had sewed together wrongly the previous day. Her bow and quiver of white goose-feather fletched arrows was by the door.
“We need distraction, Arri,” said Gretel, tugging violently at the flowered fabric with her seam ripper.
“Yeah,” I agreed and told her what I learned about Yugliv healing stones. She was fascinated, but didn’t know what to say.
After that I brought my homework into the sitting room and Gretel quizzed me on the kinds of rocks which wasn’t really distracting enough, but I tried to make it so.

April 14th
This morning when Father brought me breakfast (prepared by Cook) I was staring at Imato’s old globe trying to memorize the different places where different minerals are found.
“I’ve always thought the continents look like giants puzzle pieces that got pulled apart from each other,” said Father.
I examined the globe. He was right. They do look like they could fit together if you got rid of the oceans between them.
“Do you know why that is?” he asked.
“Why?”
Father shrugged. “I was hoping you knew,” he said.
“I’ll ask in geology today,” I said, staring at the globe in fascination.

Dr. Smith, the geology professor, loves rocks. He thinks everyone should love rocks. He usually begins each lecture by showing us a rock and giving an anecdote on how he found it. Gordo took a class from him Fall Term. He told me to be careful about insulting the rocks, which apparently one of the other students did, much to his detriment. I am not quite sure how to insult a rock.
Today Dr. Smith was lecturing on the fascinating qualities of obsidian, which is a beautiful shiny black kind of rock that doesn’t have any large minerals in it like granite. He said it forms when lava from a volcano cools very rapidly. He passed an example around for us to look at. Passing around the rock is also his way of giving everyone in the class a chance to ask a question. When the rock comes to you, you should ask a question. If Dr. Smith likes your question, and he usually does if it’s a question about rocks, he gives you a point towards your grade.
When the rock came to me, I asked: “Why do all the continents looks like a great big puzzle that came apart?”
I could tell immediately that this was a good question to ask, because Dr. Smith’s smile became very wide and Dr. Smith has rather a wide face to begin with.
“That is a two-point question, Miss Etautca,” he said, “It shows you’re thinking beyond the lessons. The fact is that we don’t know why the continents look the way they do. The most popular theory is that the oceans carved them, much like rivers carve grooves in canyons. It would have taken a long time, but it seems possible. Another theory is that the earth was originally much smaller than it is now, but there was an internal explosion, maybe a gas explosion, and the earth expanded like a balloon, cracking the land in pieces.”
I didn’t know what to say to either of those theories, but when I got home I showed my notes to Father. He was fascinated and spent a while debating the merits of the ideas. He seemed to think they were both a little flawed, but he didn’t have anything better to offer. In the end he gave me a new question to ask in class the next day. His question was to ask if oceans carved the continents like rivers, where all the earth that they washed away went. Shouldn’t the edges of the continents be piled high with it? Some continents do have mountains one their edges, but not all. It’s a good question.
When I got home I found that Banquo and Nuicui were in the stables. I sat and told them everything Master Ujifil had told me about healing stones. Nuicui kept her head ducked, nodding occasionally. Banquo crouched, his tail twitching with agitation, his expression troubled. When I finished Banquo gave a kind of shrug with his shoulders.
“Do you still need the stone?” I asked Nuicui. I set the stone cautiously in front of her.
She shook her head slowly. Banquo growled lowly at her. She growled back and they seemed to argue for a minute. Finally Nuicui swatted the stone, sending it flying through the stable door and startling the horses who whinnied and reared up in their stalls. Banquo and I followed the stones progress until it disappeared. Banquo gave a frustrated snort.
“What happens if you don’t have it?” I asked Nuicui.
She frowned. I felt a bit of magic build and dissipate as she attempted to talk. She shook herself and went outside. A minute later she returned carrying both T’ay and a plain stone from the edge of the flower beds. She set T’ay in front of herself, motioning to herself and then the stone. Then she made a show of shoving the healing stone aside and replacing it with the plain stone. She motioned to that stone and then herself.
I had to think about it.
“The stone is losing magic?” I asked.
She nodded, then shook her head, then made a frustrated sound. She motioned to the plain stone and back to herself several times.
“You lose magic too?” I asked finally.
She nodded smiling slightly, but Banquo shook his head. He stood up and threw a spell at Nuicui, a kind of glowing round ball. Unprepared, the lioness fell to her side when it hit her, startled.
Banquo threw the spell at her again. It was a strange spell; I couldn’t recognize it. This time Nuicui caught it. She held it neatly in her paws for a moment and then threw it to me. The ball hit me full force in the stomach and I fell backward with a jolt. The spell dissipated, but not before I recognized it: a strengthening spell.
Nuicui gave a moan of apology as I picked myself up, unhurt.
“Banquo says you can overcome the loss of magic,” I concluded.
Nuicui shrugged, her blue eyes narrow, but Banquo nodded, growling at her.
“And your health?” I asked.
Nuicui nodded, as did Banquo.
What I gathered was that Nuicui’s need of the stone for her health gradually diminished, but her addiction to the stone’s magic grew. It’s the addiction that she needs to overcome, and she is determined to do it. However, the stone has damage Nuicui’s magic to the point that without the stone she has difficultly using it.

We are all waiting for Sir Raporty to finish translating the documents and for Uncle W. to finish the cloaking spell. Then we will hold council again. It is hard waiting.

April 15th
I had lunch with Gordo today. He asked if there was anything he could do to help with whatever was going one that he couldn’t know about. He asked it so politely and sincerely that I felt awful telling him no, that there wasn’t anything I could think of to do.
“If I had become a page,” he said thoughtfully, “I would be close to becoming a squire now, and then I would be of more help.”
“You’re helping me concentrate on algebra,” I said, “and I really need help with that.”
Gordo looked doubtful.
“Really,” I said, “that’s what I need most.”
He nodded, “I mean it though, Lady Arri, anything I can do. I could even talk to my brother Taxon—he’s a squire, and I’m sure he could help.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“In the meantime, we’ll make sure Dr. Kondamuri eats his words about you.”
“I don’t think it will happen this term,” I said dismally, staring at the pages and pages of practice problems before me. I don’t think my professors would have given me the make-up work if my excuse had come from anyone less than the King. They’re rather of the opinion that I’ve missed too much school this term.
“You’ll do well,” said Gordo earnestly, “I’m sure.”

When I arrived home, Gretel was waiting for me.
“Sir Raporty is ready to give his report,” she said.
I didn’t remove my cloak. Instead I went back out to re-saddle Sprigs. We raced to the castle, arriving nearly at the same time as Nysa. Uncle W. couldn’t come because of where he was in his work on the cloaking spell.

Sir Raporty is round and elderly with small blue eyes in a broad, stern face. No one seemed particularly glad to see him. The King’s councilors sat at the long, narrow jury table with arms folded and eyes narrowed. King Trunsle, Queen Elspeth, and Crown Prince Dedric sat on their thrones. Father sat with the councilors. Nysa and I were the last to enter. Father smiled and motioned for us to join him at the table. He handed us each a quill and sheet of paper.
Sir Raporty’s voice was monotone. He almost sounded bored with the information he related. The first councilor to interrupt him with a question was treated with a dismissive wave of the hand.
“I will finish the report first. Then you may interrogate me,” he said in annoyance. We all complied.
The Grestian papers consist of several separate correspondences to different spies. The oldest refers to the failed attempt at abducting Father during the tournament, though it does not mention the attempt on the Queen’s life. It contains a rather long rant against Father for his interference in the war against Yuglicov. The mention of T’ay is simply that they want it back, and it is clear they’re expecting to recover a sword, not just a stone. The next piece of correspondence was intended for K’Lei. It is a set of instructions for renewing the controlling spell on White. What exactly K’Lei’s mission was beyond that isn’t given. The third document is a lengthy discussion of a plot to abduct Prince Euan.
“Abduct Prince Euan?” several of us voiced at once when Sir Raporty finally allowed us to speak.
“This is about starting a war between Elcaro and Arrella,” said Sir Raporty in a bored tone, “They need a probable cause, preferably one that’s easy to control.”
“Euan is incompetent,” said Gretel.
“As I said,” Sir Raporty set the papers on the table. He leaned back against the nearest wall and closed his eyes.
“How likely is the Arrellan court to believe that Jace Pren is a spy?” asked Father. He picked up the papers and flipped through them slowly.
“Not likely,” said Nysa and I together.
“How likely are they to believe that he’s controlling Keish through magic?” asked Father.
Nysa laughed outright. Father nodded, looking amused.
“If they succeed in recruiting a new spy in the Arrellan Court to help them…” began Father thoughtfully.
“It’s still an idiotic plan,” said the Crown Prince, “If Prince Euan does go missing (and it will take a while for anyone to realize he didn’t just make a wrong turn on the way to the drawing room); no one in their right mind is going to think that Jace Pren put a spell on Lakeisha and forced her to help him with an evil plot to abduct Euan and… what is it they’re going to do with Euan again?”
“Hold him in reserve,” said Sir Raporty.
“What does that mean?” asked Nysa.
“It means they don’t really know yet,” Sir Raporty sighed.
“It’s almost a good strategy,” said Crown Prince Dedric thoughtfully, “Lady Lakeisha has been avoiding, or failing to avoid, Euan for years. She tries to be discreet about it, but it’s been noticed on occasion. So, if it weren’t for King Menion trusting her so much, she’d make a good suspect in Prince Euan’s disappearance.”
“Lakeisha is not important,” said Sir Raporty. We all looked at him.
“Jace Pren is the key. Make him look like a spy, heartless. Kill Lakeisha after the abduction. That would be the proper strategy.”
“No,” said Nysa, standing.
Sir Raporty shrugged at her and closed his eyes again.
“The documents say that?” asked one of the councilors.
“I told you what they said before. Now I tell you what I think,” said Sir Raporty, “Make what you will of it.”
“But you’re not sure?” asked Father.
“The Grestians are not strategists. The government loses its best thinkers to emigration.”
“Yes, they act first and plan later,” said Father slowly, “but this is rather elaborate for them.”
“Not really. We all sit around here for five minutes and find enough flaws in the Grestians’ plan to fill more pages than the documents that explained it to us.”
Enthusiastic discussions of the Grestian government’s flaws followed for several minutes. It seems the royal government of Greste is jealous of any citizen they think might be smarter than they are. They prefer to keep that majority of their people as ignorant and uneducated as possible. And so the people are easier to influence and dominate. It is a deep-rooted problem that goes back for generations. No one seems quite sure how to solve it.

April 18th
I have your letter, and I have also just returned from the council to determine how to rescue Imato. Uncle Winthrop has finished the cloaking spell. I will respond to your letter first. Then I will tell you about the council.
Tell Sir Byra congratulations for his new post. He certainly deserves it. I hope one day Elcaro will add girl’s classes to the public schools too.
I’m going to tell Master Grant and Dr. Ecrue about my spell once Imato is rescued. It would be nice if Tish could be there too, but if not, I will write her a letter.
I asked Father if his promise to Mendel that he would encounter a dragon was why all the great greens attacked us.
“I have little magic, Arri,” he reminded me, “and no direct control over it.” He stood up from his seat as the desk in Gretel’s sitting room and walked to the window. “However,” he said, “that promise may have made us more attractive to any dragons in the area. I had no idea of attracting seven great greens. I was actually wondering if Mendel’s magical talent for finding things also played a role. We will definitely have to be more careful in the future.”
“Isn’t it breeding season for great greens?” I asked, “Wouldn’t they be more likely to be in flights this time of year.”
“Good point,” he nodded, “the number may have been coincidental.”
“What about the gomorph?” I asked.
“That,” said Father firmly, “had no business being so near a city. We alerted the foresters, so hopefully they will track it down before it builds up enough magic to attack someone else.”
Gretel was very relieved to hear that White is not to blame for Imato’s abduction, although it adds to the embarrassment of sending Emily and Cook away. After the interviews with Father, Gretel apologized to everyone. Cook says it was all very understandable and that Gretel treated them as well as she could have under the circumstances. Emily didn’t say much, just that she was glad Gretel was okay now.
I do not think my spell to restore Father will work for White, since my spell depended on us having shared memories from before the battle. However, I would like to look at White. I understand so much more than I did before, so maybe I can make a spell for him. Maybe I could fix other people’s memories too…
Father is amused to think that H’ma might not be real. He says it definitely kept a number of soldiers busy over the years. But Martin Cobbles reaction was interesting. I hope he doesn’t suspect the truth about Caden because of it. After all, why would you divine a false name. Or maybe, Father says, there really is a H’ma, so secret even the other Grestian spies didn’t know about him.

Now I’m going to tell you about the council. These are the people who attended: King Trunsle, Queen Elspeth, Crown Prince Dedric, several of the King’s councilors, Sergeant Maltese, Brynn (who was called back from Marobury), Uncle Winthrop, Nysa, Mendel, Gretel, Father, Banquo, Liop, and me. It was a lot of people and rather overwhelming.
First we went over all the facts. Everything that we knew about Imato’s abduction, T’ay, the Grestian spies, White, and Father’s recovery. Everyone was given a chance to speak. Since Father has been going to the castle every day since we returned from finding Nuicui, I knew that there had already been a lot of discussion that I didn’t hear about. Finally Father stood up, taking control of the meeting.
“I believe the rescue party should consist of at least six people, no more than twelve. Ability to hide inside the Gretian border will be paramount. Winthop, may I examine your cloaking spell?”
Uncle W. stood importantly. In his hand was a scroll that almost glowed with magic.
“This spell contains exactly ten hours of complete cloaking magic,” he said, “It can be used by multiple people for fractions of that time, or one person for the whole time. For example five people could use the spell for two hours, or twenty people for half an hour, or one person could use the spell for ten hours. You can turn the spell on and off and switch the person it is applied to. However, once the ten hours are used up, it’s gone.”
“Ten hours is more than I expected,” said Father, examining the scroll, “Brilliant work, Winthrop.”
Uncle W. nodded and returned to his seat.
After that Father went into great detail about the skills he would need in the people he selected for the quest. When he mentioned tracking skills, I saw Mendel sit up straighter in his seat, but as Father emphasized the need for each person to also have fighting capability, his shoulders slumped and he shook his head, frustrated.
“I should have paid more attention to the fencing lessons Father sent Sean and I too,” he muttered.
By the time Father finished I was beginning to wonder if anyone had the skills he was looking for. It seemed an impossible list of qualifications. I looked around and saw the councilors nodding at him as he spoke, attention riveted. Father knows how to command an audience.
“Now,” he concluded, “I would like suggestions on who can fulfill this mission.”
He folded his arms and waited. I looked around uncomfortably.
“I recommend Sir Stoddart,” said one of the councilors.
Father nodded, “Yes, I would like him very much.”
“Sir Wooldridge,” said another councelor, “would make an excellent tracker.”
Father and I both looked at Mendel. He squirmed a bit.
“Can he track as well as I can?” he asked.
“You’re a fine tracker, Mendel, certainly one of the best I’ve seen,” said Father.
“But I can’t fight,” said Mendel.
“I’d like you and Sir Wooldridge to collaborate before we leave. I’d like him to see some of your spells.”
“I’d be honored, Captain,” said Mendel.
It was then that I realized I wouldn’t be going on the quest either. Father wanted soldiers. He had good reasons for it.
“Winthrop, I would like to invite you to join the quest,” said Father formally.
Uncle W. looked surprised.
“Your knowledge of magic and desert survival skills will be invaluable.”
“Thank you,” said Uncle W.
Banquo growled.
“Winged Lions Banquo and Nuicui will also accompany us,” said Father with a slight bow in Banquo’s direction.
“Sir Aoweir,” said King Trunsle.
“Yes,” Father agreed, “and I’d also like to extend the invitation to White.”
This sparked some disagreement among the councilors, but ultimately they agreed with Father. Then Father suggested someone else, but that person was rejected by the councilors. Father looked surprised, but they held their ground and he deferred to their better knowledge of the knight’s current circumstances.
Father turned to Nysa.
“This is a family concern,” he said softly, “I did not allow you to come on the last quest, but I would like to invite you on this one. It will be much more dangerous. However, I believe you have the right to come if you wish.”
Nysa was silent.
“May I consider for a day?” she asked softly, pulling the hair away from her face, eyes intense.
“Yes, of course,” said Father.
“I’d like to suggest another family member,” said the Crown Prince.
We all looked at him.
“It’s well known that Imato was the best squire in terms of fighting that Elcaro has seen since you were yourself in his place, Captain.”
Father didn’t respond.
“However, the second best fighter the squires have seen was not actually numbered among them.”
“Oh?” asked Father.
Prince Dedric nodded, his eyes serious. “I’d like to recommend Master Jace Pren, as the second best fighter Elcaro has seen in at least twenty years.”
I blinked a couple of times and looked at Uncle W. He was nodding thoughtfully, as was Gretel, though she looked rather more worried.
“I will send him an invitation,” said Father.
Another half hour was spent discussing other possible knights. In the end they decided on a knight named Sir Tureo who is also a healer.
You will see Father’s formal invitation to Jace enclosed with this letter.

I wish I could go too, but Father won’t hear of it. He says that taking me into western Elcaro to search for a winged lioness was one thing, but taking me across the border into Greste is too dangerous. Hearing the qualifications of all the other participants, I can see his point.
Mendel has added swordsmanship to his list of things he wants to study. Liop, surprisingly, made no protest about not being allowed to go. He did a few translations for Banquo but was quiet through most of the council. Nysa deliberated for most of the evening, but has decided to go. Letters of invitation have been sent by bird or footman to everyone else. They all have Father’s signature. No one is expected to decline. Everyone who joins the quest will be provided with at least one passenger pigeon for use during the quest.
I need to send this letter as quickly as possible. Father would like to leave in three days. If Jace goes on the quest, how will that affect your spy work with Caden? I know Jace is more than qualified to go, but I was really surprised when he was suggested. Gretel is envious. She has been fiddling her bow all evening. She makes Father nervous. I think he’s afraid she will try to follow.
I can’t think what else to say—just to post this and wait for your reply.
Give my love to everyone.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- April 13, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 28 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 13, 2005

Dear Arri,
We’ve had Brooksby arrange a schedule of when Caden is Here, and when he is merely here. It seemed the only way to keep it all straight.
And naturally this means I have to make adjustments to the little glamours that have kept people from noticing his comings and goings.
He is to make his first report tonight.
“What do I tell them?” he whined.
I rolled my eyes. It was at least the fifth time he’d asked.
“They can’t expect you to have learned much yet,” Jace put in sensibly. “Some simple piece of information should be enough.”
“You can tell them I commune with water sprites at every quarter moon for all I care,” I responded, a little more sharply than I’d intended.
I find I am already tired of this situation, which does not bode well for the coming weeks.
“Now, Keisha,” Jace said soothingly, “you know he’ll have to take them reports that at least seem useful, or they’ll change tactics.”
I sighed. Jace was right, of course. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something innocuous that the Gresteans could see as helpful.
As often happens when trying to clear one’s mind, random thoughts crop up relentlessly and after a moment I found myself half-consciously trying another calling spell to reach Imato.
Of course it didn’t work, but it did give me an idea.
“Tell them I’m frustrated my spells won’t work to reach Imato. Make them think I’m giving up. Maybe we can lure someone into a false security and the magical protection around Imato will ease up enough for me to get through.”
Both Jace and Caden thought this a worthwhile idea, so we were agreed.

I think Master Byra, excuse me Sir Byra (King Menion has made him a full member of the King’s Council-- he tried to make him a lord so that his proper title would be Lord of Education, but Sir Byra insisted that an old palace tutor was certainly not a lord) anyway, I think he is starting to feel run ragged. He’s brought in another teacher to take over his classes as he’s in administrative meetings all day.
When he pointed out yesterday that this is all my fault I replied that it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.
Better him than me.
Cass has begun training Meg, our other student who lost her position some weeks ago for refusing to give up her classes. She’s been doing whatever random tasks Marta has set for her, but she has just turned 17 and has become out first “graduate” having taken our skills test. Cass has decided Meg is just the person to take over most of her own duties since she will not have time for everything if she is to teach full time next year.

Keaton continues to be fascinated by his chicks, though Thor lost interest when it became obvious that a) he was not allowed to chase them and b) they don’t do much of anything anyway.

Caden told Tish all about how you healed your father and she’s anxious to discuss it with you when everything with Imato is settled. She doesn’t want you to be distracted by letters from her under the present circumstances but hopes to hear from you once things are resolved.

April 14th
I have your letter.
My first thought was that Mendel being taken seriously about dragons was very concerning.
Then I decided that thought was too hasty-- Liop and dragons was clearly the far more worrisome combination.
Does Uncle W. know that Liop has taken to carrying iridium about with him? I hope he just had it with him for the quest-- the idea of his pockets being constantly lined with the stuff is somewhat terrifying.
Is it normal for Great Greens to be so near Rousha? And a gomorph? It seems strange to have encountered either so near the city. I guess Mendel got his dragons, though.
Maybe now he’s learned to be careful what he wishes for.
Naturally you handled Nuicui with your usual talent and skill. I’m often grateful that it is you that gets into these situations and not me. I would never know what to say.

If Gretel, who survived all of Vanessa’s wedding plans and even wore that horrid dress with a perfectly sanguine attitude, doesn’t think her nerves can handle Vanessa’s current condition how does she think I feel?! She came here to tea earlier to make her own divination request. It took a lot to convince her that I could do my best to divine the date, and possibly find out if it is a boy or girl in the process, but all of the details she wanted were simply too much to ask of anyone.
I keep praying King Menion will find some nice estate for Euan somewhere… preferably far far far from Adya.
As to any divination regarding Gretel’s child, Imato can ask all he wants but I won’t do it unless the request is from the mother. Besides, an angry Gretel is far more worrisome to me than an angry Imato. Imato angry stopped scaring me years ago.

Caden agrees with your father that his task is not as useful as he had hoped. “I wish I could find out about H’ma for Sir Quin,” he lamented the evening.
“And so you shall,” Jace said confidently, an amused glint in his eyes.
“It’s not as though I can just ask,” Caden responded, frowning. “I suppose I can do some research to see if the man was ever caught. Macario keeps track of those kinds of things. But if he hasn’t, what good can I do?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing simpler. You tell them I divined the name and see what you can learn from their reactions and what they’re willing to tell you. Honestly, what good is pretending to spy on me if we can’t use my divination to learn whatever we wish?” I frowned. “Are we certain H’ma is a man, though? Arri doesn’t specify.”
Caden shrugged. “Aren’t spies usually?”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
Jace laughed. “Maybe we only think that because the women don’t get caught.”

“Was White a Narl, do you think?” Jace asked as we pondered your father’s theory.
I shrugged. “It’s possible, though it seems equally possible that others have used the same spell. There are certainly enough horrid people in the world who aren’t Narls.”
“That’s true. I wish we could ask him, but the last report didn’t indicate that he’d been found.”
“Perhaps Caden will have something new when he returns from interrogating Macario about Grestean spies.”

I am sorry if my attempt to feed memories into your father made him lose some others. I didn’t think of that. Now, though, I can give him whatever he wants. Birthdays, weddings. Perhaps a few memories that will help him understand the current family dynamics. After all, some of those are bound to amuse him. We should let him read our letters too, if he wants.

April 15th
Today proved very interesting, Arri, and I wish I could send this letter as soon as I have recorded the events of the day, but as Caden is off to meet his Grestean friends and won’t return until extremely late, it seems silly to send this off without hearing how they react to the name H’ma.
So I shall be brutal-- I will write what happened today and go straight to bed.
After my classes and dinner, I decided to attempt to call Imato again. I didn’t have much hope of success, but I figure I may as well keep making the attempt every couple of days.
Interestingly, while I could not reach Imato I did feel an odd sort of tugging, pulling at my spell.
When I focused on that, I suddenly saw Queran Aoweir.
“Sir Queran?!” I said in surprise.
“Lady Keish, thank goodness. I’ve been trying to find a way to call you all day, but my talent is in hearing calls, not casting them. I finally managed a spell to listen for you to call Imato and hoped fervently you would try to do so.”
“An ingenious solution,” I responded, “and one with interesting uses, I imagine.”
“Yes, Imato and I played with the idea of intercepting calling spells, but the important thing now is to relay what I must before we lose this connection. I have great faith in your ability to sustain it, but less in my own.”
“Very well then. What has happened?”
“We found White. He was in a small cave near here, restrained and rather worse for wear when we got to him, I’m afraid, but food and a little rest brought him around. This morning I was able to speak with him at length.
“It appears that he was lured out near the camp by a note, supposedly from Imato, asking to meet him. Imato, I believe had had a similar note, supposedly from White.
“When White arrived, however, he was held immobile by a spell, and layers of magic were stripped from his mind. At least, that’s how he describes it. He claims it was similar to what your friend Darius did in trying to help him but that these Gresteans seemed to know exactly what they were looking for and how to find it.”
“And so he remembers his past now, is that what you’re telling me?”
“In part only. He knows he’s Yugliv. Some of what he says I would like you to test for yourself. Can you use a scrying spell to see him here with me? And can you feel and find magic using such a spell?” Queran asked.
I nodded absently, momentarily forgetting that he could not see me. “Yes, I should be able to do that. Give me just a moment to make the adjustments.”
I called Jace into my study as I rearranged my mirror slightly. When I was satisfied I told Queran that I was casting the scrying spell.
“White is right here with me,” he responded.
I cast my spell and was startled by what I saw. “But White has no magic!” I exclaimed.
White apparently could not hear me (which made perfect sense) because he didn’t react.
Queran answered. “Apparently the same spell that took his memory and left him wandering alone also wrapped up his magic and kept it entirely hidden. He says it isn’t much magic though.”
I was studying White. “No, it isn’t. And it’s very specific.”
Queran nodded. “One of the older soldiers here knows a bit about Yuglicov. He says they don’t have innate magic the way you or I do, but rather magic is endowed from objects bit by bit at various stages of training. Part of that magic will always depend on the object, but some becomes an integral part of the person.”
“And the nature of the magic follows the nature of the training.”
“Exactly. All White remembers is that before Greste attacked Yuglicov he was in his early stages of apprenticeship-- to be a healer.”
“T’ay,” I breathed.
Queran nodded again. “White does not remember precisely, but it seems likely. It would explain what the Gresteans want with him. Apparently they were supposed to take him also, but he says his master gave them quite a bit more trouble than they were expecting, even though they managed to distract him and block his magic before he could cast a ward.”
This last was said somewhat smugly. I think Queran is rather proud that his son-in-law gave them a fight.
“But why leave White? Or why not return for him?”
“When Imato didn’t return within the hour, I had patrols out searching. I think we prevented them from coming back for White. He says it wasn’t a large enough party to grab them both with Imato struggling so much.”
I pondered this a moment. “And he’s telling the truth?” I felt inclined to believe White’s story, but knew I had to be sure, if only for Gretel’s sake.
Queran was silent for several seconds before responding. “I feel he is. One aspect of aural magic is often an ability to sort out a lie. It’s been very helpful in my profession on many occasions. I feel no lie in White. I’d like more qualified magicians to see what they make of his magic and such, of course, but for now I’m ready to believe him. He wishes to remain in the camp until Imato can be rescued. I’m assigning a man to keep an eye on him, but I’ve granted that request.”
“Thank you for this,” I told Queran. “It puts my mind at ease on that score, if nothing else.”
He smiled briefly. “I’ll write to Gretel, of course, but you can get the information to them so much more quickly. I hope you’ll do so.”
I promised to send a letter off to you as soon as I could and we let the spell fade.
Jace is glad to hear that White is not likely a villain or traitor after all. I hope Gretel will feel at ease now too.
“Do you suppose the Gresteans took White along with T’ay?” Jace asked.
“I don’t know. It’s certainly possible. If they used a similar spell to that of the Narls it would all make sense. When they lost T’ay they would no longer have found him useful. Either they turned him loose or were lax about keeping him under their control and Darius ended up finding him.”
“We may never know the whole story.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps not. Though Arri has made several breakthroughs in that area of healing-- perhaps she’ll be the one to restore White as well.”
Jace smiled broadly. “We should tell her to put aside the idea of clearing people’s lungs as a job and set her to fixing fading memories instead.”
What an interesting thought.

There, now that I’ve related the whole of it and of course there’s no sign of Caden, I’m going to bed as I’d promised. I shall bully an account out of Caden first thing in the morning and then send this off directly thereafter.

April 16th
The reactions to Caden’s report, I think, are very interesting, and I’m glad I waited to send this letter because I’m anxious to hear everyone’s opinion.
When Caden introduced the name H’ma, he was greeted with laughter.
Of the six other people in the room, five found it hilarious that my divination was chasing “a ghost”.
When Caden asked whatever they could mean he was told that H’ma wasn’t a real spy, but rather a story that had kept Elcaran authorities busy for months, taking their attention away from the “real spies” at work.
In short, they explained, H’ma does not exist and never has.
At this point in Caden’s retelling I was ready to scream.
Jace was paying more attention. “And what did the other person have to say?” he asked shrewdly.
Caden grinned. “Nothing at all. Cobbles just watched me carefully as though trying to judge whether or not I was believing what everyone else was saying. He certainly didn’t laugh, but rather seemed thoughtful that the name had come to my attention.”
“So he didn’t confirm that H’ma is a ghost?” Jace asked.
Caden shook his head. “Telling, isn’t it?”
After some discussion, Jace and I are in agreement with Caden that the reaction of Martin Cobbles is the most telling. He’s the highest ranking Grestean here, after all, so if there were more to the story he would know before the others. Caden hopes to gain his trust as time goes on and learn more.
As I said, though, we’re anxious to see what you all think, and so I will close and send this off with all speed.

Love Always,
Keish

PS Any other names or details your father remembers would be appreciated-- after all, I must keep “divining” things for Caden to report on.

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Arri- April 12, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 26 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 12, 2005
Dear Keish,

The morning was clear and crisp, the sun still a good half hour from breaking the dense line of the forest on the southwestern side of Rousha. We met just out of sight of the main road to Green Lake, avoiding the early passage of peddlers and journeymen. Nysa has still not come to terms with cold weather, having never experienced it in the land of the fairies. She shivered and Father worried about her health which caused her much embarrassment.
“She was not so delicate as a fairy,” Father commented to me later, his voice thoughtful, “I do wish your mother could look at her.”
“She survived weeks on her own in the Arrellan forest when she first left the fairy ring,” I responded, feeling that Nysa needed some defense, “It’s more that she doesn’t like cold than that she can’t handle it.”
Mendel had arrived before us as was waiting with the two horses. I noticed traveler’s saddlebags. From the top of the one on Tattheus rose the hilt of a short sword, which surprised me. I didn’t know Mendel owned a sword. He had a saddle basket for Lexie, but at that moment the half-grown pup was prancing around the horses’ legs with a large bone in her mouth. Mendel offered Father his pick of the two horses. However, much to my surprise Father turned down the offer and insisted again on riding Sprigs.
“I know Sprigs,” Father said simply, “He hasn’t changed nearly as much in five years as the rest of you.”
We said our goodbyes. Father reminded each of us of the tasks we had been assigned, making sure that we were each impressed with our own importance.
“This part of the quest is only to find Nuicui,” Father reminded us, “After that we will reconvene in Rousha to determine our next step. Winthrop, I have no intention of taking my children across the Grestian border if I can help it.”
Uncle W. hadn’t said much, but Father’s lecture seemed to make an impression and his attitude was less surly than it had been the previous day.
“Master Mendel,” said Father turning to him, “I’m very grateful for your assistance in this part of the quest. I understand that your skills are invaluable. I’d like very much to compensate you. Arri mentioned that you are attending the university. Is there anything I can do in that direction in your service? Or if you have another suggestion, I’d be happy to hear it.”
“Compensation?” asked Mendel, “For a quest?” His smile widened, “I get to choose my compensation in advance?”
“Yes,” said Father, confusion flickering across his face, “I usually agree upon the terms before the quest. Are you accustomed to the opposite?”
“It’s much more practical, Sir,” said Mendel. Uncle W. groaned—we all, except Father, could hear a joke coming.
Mendel waved us aside and made a great show of considering. Father’s confusion turned to a frown.
“So far,” said Mendel, “My quests with Arri have involved leaping griffons, winged lions, and angry fairies. Adequate compensation, you’ll agree, but somewhat lacking in the kind of ferocity adventurers such as myself crave—no offense, Banquo. For my compensation on this quest, I believe I am entitled to a dragon—one of the larger species, if you please, Captain Etautca.”
Father’s eyebrows shot up, and he considered Mendel.
“That can be arranged,” he said seriously.
Mendel’s smile widened. “Brilliant,” he said.
Liop’s delight at discovering he was to ride Banquo—since obtaining a horse so late at night without attracting attention would have been nearly impossible—could hardly be contained. Banquo was very humble and patient about the whole situation and I think it helped that Liop could talk to him directly. Still, it seemed advisable to get Liop a pony at the next possible opportunity.
Finally, we were on our way. Banquo cast a detecting spell so that we could follow the road for a while without concern for encountering anyone. Mendel led the way on the tall chestnut Tattheus with Liop and Banquo at his side. It still amazes me that the horses are not afraid of Banquo. I remember from my childhood that the horses were never afraid of Noralt, but still it seems incredible. Winged lions are so much larger than ordinary lions. I asked Banquo about it, but his response through Liop was: “I’m not hunting horses. They have nothing to fear.” Next I had Liop ask the horses why they weren’t afraid of the lion. They responded that the winged lion was not hunting. They could not, however, communicate how they knew this. I suppose I should just be satisfied.
Father and I on the gray-dappled Sprigs and more evenly gray Asus made up the rear of the party. Father didn’t seem to mind. It gave him an opportunity to ask me questions about everything that had happened in the last five years. I told him about going to live with Uncle Winthrop. I told about Uncle W.’s disappearance, the griffon trap, and going to rescue Uncle W. I told about your journey to the Solutun Mountains and the caves. I told about Gessair and the other Narls. It was a good thing Father was riding Sprigs, because he paid very little attention to the road. Sprigs knew to follow Tattheus. Asus, although unafraid, was not so content to simply follow Banquo. I had to pay attention or Asus would have tried to move me to the front of the group.
“The first thing I really noticed, Arri,” said Father, “that made me realize how much had changed, was when I saw you handling the doctor’s mare. You were always good with animals as a child, but your handling of that nervous, fidgety mare was flawless.”
“Well,” I said slowly, “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“So have I,” said Father, “but I’ve never been as confident as you are, and I had formal training as a boy.”
I shrugged, unsure of my response.
“Tell about Aegolius and the reflection makers!” shouted Liop from ahead of us.
“You know Aegolius?” asked Father, smiling, “Is there anyone left that I know and you don’t?”
“Not likely,” said Mendel, “Arri is at the center of every intellectual circle in Rousha.”
I reddened and shook my head. Father looked amused.
“Dragons!” Liop shouted.
We all turned to him. He and Banquo had come to a halt, their eyes on the west.
“Where?” asked Father.
Liop pointed. We all looked, but the sky was empty.
“Banquo can sense them,” Liop told us, “He says there are several, heading right for us.”
Father grumbled something, shaking his head.
“What species?” he asked aloud.
“Great greens,” said Liop promptly.
“I can see them now!” said Mendel, pointing.
Several dark blots could be seen in the distance.
“Arri,” said Father, “Take Liop up on Asus and move deeper into the forest. Can you cast a warding spell?”
“Liop can,” I responded.
“Cast it, Liop.”
“On everyone? While we’re moving?” asked Liop, sounding worried.
“I’m sure you can do it,” said Father, “Master Mendel, how good are you with that sword?”
“I’m brilliant against a dummy,” said Mendel.
“Good, follow Arri into the forest. Keep between them and the dragons at all times.”
“Yes, Captian,” Mendel responded seriously. Lexie was already in her basket, having grown too tired to walk after the first couple of hours. Mendel closed the lid and latched it.
I pulled Liop up behind me and urged Asus into the trees. Mendel followed. We picked our way reluctantly, looking back. I felt Liop cast the warding spell. It flickered uncertainly and then strengthened as he added iridium. A few minutes passed and a dragon roared. Asus bolted, nearly unseating Liop. I brought the horse under control, but not before we had travelled a few hundred feet. Liop’s ward wavered.
“It’s getting too thin,” he said, “It wasn’t meant to cover so much space.”
“Do you have it around the Captain and Banquo too?” asked Mendel.
“And Sprigs and all of us,” said Liop, “I’ve never projected something so large that has to move.”
“I’ll help,” said Mendel. He spoke a few words and I felt a second spell go up around us. It flickered much worse than Liop’s.
“You’re right,” said Mendel, “this is much harder to hold than a stationary ward.”
“I don’t want to leave Father,” said Liop.
Another dragon roared. They were getting much closer. Suddenly, Liop slipped out of the saddle.
“I know! I can talk to dragons! I can tell them to leave us alone!” he shouted, darting away from me and back toward the road.
“No, Liop!” I dropped off Asus and chased after Liop. From the corner of my eye I saw Mendel do the same. The forest was dense and dark, even in bright daylight. Liop didn’t want to be followed. I heard a noise and veered after it. I felt Mendel’s ward quiver and die.
“Liop!”
I was back at the road. In the sky dragons were closing in. Banquo rose to meet them, roaring. I looked around. I couldn’t see Liop or Mendel anywhere. How many dragons were there? They moved so quickly they were impossible to count. It seemed like a dozen, but rationally, that number was too high. I wanted to help but didn’t have the slightest idea what to do.
One of the dragons flew strait towards Father. Keish, have you ever seen a great green up close? Even the zoos won’t keep them. It was at least as tall as the Pren’s townhouse and round: great greens are not long and skinny like desert dragons. Father raised his sword to strike, but it seemed more likely that the dragon would crush him. And then suddenly, there was Mendel. Darting across the dragon’s path. Distracted the dragon turned. Father did not lose the opportunity. The head of the first dragon fell without a sound. It skidded across the ground straight into Mendel, who stumbled, dropped his sword, and kept on running, disappearing into the trees.
Where was Liop? I looked all around, but couldn’t see him. Instead, I saw Mendel creeping back along the trees’ edge. One of the dragons blazed and the trees caught fire. Mendel cast a spell at one, putting out the flames, but on other trees the fire spread.
I had been motionless, frozen in shock, but seeing the trees on fire had a kind of familiar feel to it. I had dealt with this problem before. I used the only spell I could think of: the one I use to put out the fire in the oven. It worked. Together, Mendel and I put out all the fires, although Mendel was too busy keeping track of the dragons to notice me.
I was still pretty well hidden, but a dragon noticed Mendel. It charged toward him. Mendel jumped sideways at the last moment and the beast flew past him. Father was shouting something, but the roaring of the lions was too loud. I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Mendel rolled over and cast another spell aiming it at the dragon. It slowed. I could feel each burst of magic as Mendel cast his spells. Each burst slowed the dragon further until finally it stopped entirely and Father killed it. It screamed as it died.
I felt helpless, and Liop was still missing. It occurred to me that he wasn’t in the road where the fighting was. I backed further into the trees and crept along the road, calling him.
“Err-rri?” The sound was muffled, but it seemed like Liop’s voice.
“Liop?” I could hear something moving just beyond me, out of sight among the undergrowth. I pushed toward it. The voice repeated, still muffled, a little further on. Whatever I was following kept barely out of sight. I heard the dragons roaring and realized I was going away from the road. I stopped and turned back. Then I heard more rustling in the bushes. I knew I should ignore it, but something muddled my brain. I couldn’t tell what direction to go. The dragons were roaring. Then one of them screamed, another victory for Father, Banquo, and Mendel. Liop was not likely to be this far into the trees. I tried to head back toward the road, but something stopped me, a kind of mew like a frightened kitten. I turned toward it.
It was a strange sensation. Part of my brain knew that my priorities were all mixed up, that I was looking for Liop and not a lost kitten. But the mewing was indescribably compelling. I followed the sound. I think I had been half-running for a few minutes when the spell faltered and my foggy brain woke up just enough to realize what was happening. I froze.
It was a kitten. I could see it now, emerging from behind a tree, a little gray kitten, wonderfully sweet with green eyes.
It was not a kitten. Some part of my brain was still rational. I could feel the spell around me, trying to penetrate further into my head. I tried to look away, to step backward, anything to break the illusion.
The kitten mewed. I knew if I didn’t pick it up and take it with me, it would starve or be eaten by some terrible beast.
The kitten was the beast, and it would eat me the moment I got within biting distance. I froze, the rational part of my brain screaming for retreat, but the part of me under the spell wanting desperately to touch the kitten.
We had reached an impasse. My magical resilience was strong enough to prevent me from chasing the gomorph any further, but not strong enough to break me entirely from its grip. It mewed piteously. I closed my eyes, blocking out the illusion with memories of book illustrations showing a small monster with sharp teeth and mottled gray skin. I wondered what would happen when the gomorph encountered Liop’s iridium ward. I wondered which of us would prove to have the more powerful magic. I’m not sure how long we stood there.
I heard a soft sound directly behind me and the gomorph’s spell burst like a bubble. A little disoriented, my first thought was that word needed to be sent to the Master Forrester of Elcaro that a gomorph had been discovered in the forest. They would need to hunt it down within the week before it regained enough strength to perform its illusion again. That, however, was not really my most pressing problem. I opened my eyes to the sound of the monster scrambling away through the underbrush making much more noise than the kitten had. I did not get a glimpse of its true form and was glad of it. In the distance behind me came another dragon’s scream of death. Then the sky flashed blue, a soldier’s victory sign. Father and the others had defeated the dragons. Relief coursed through me.
I turned towards the dragon sounds and came face-to-face with a lioness. Our eyes met and she froze, blue eyes wide in a face so pale it was almost white. Then she darted away like a startled deer.
"Nuicui!" I called, "Please don't go! It's only Arrietta, Jezreel's daughter."
I strained my ears for the sound of breaking branches or rustling leaves, but there was silence. Perhaps she had not gone far. I pushed my way through the bush where I had seen her and into a dense patch of young trees. I looked around, but there was no sign of her. I stepped out into a small clear space. I turned to go back the way I came when a glint of light caught my eye. I looked at the ground. At my feet lay a large cut gemstone, emerald green.
Ta'y.
I picked it up and felt magic course through me. The stone almost vibrated with magic. I put it in my pocket where it sagged heavily, and looked around.
"Nuicui?" I asked.
Silence.
"Please, Nuicui," I pleaded, "You don't have to die to prove yourself."
I crossed through another thicket, calling for Nuicui. She had to be close, watching me. I imagined a young, fragile lioness coming all the way to Rousha, but stopping not quite there, afraid. I remembered what it was like when the griffon left me in the desert mountains, not knowing what to do next. Nuicui had it all wrong. She couldn't prove herself by giving up.
I pulled Ta'y back out of my pocket and hurled it from me as far as it would go, watching it flash through the trees.
"My father gave this to you!" I shouted, "He wanted you to live! I want you to live!"
I turned my back on the stone just as a roar exploded around me. It was so close that the air around me vibrated and I fell to my knees, where I stayed, stunned, in the growing darkness. When I gathered my senses and looked around, I saw the blue eyes of a lioness watching me from the brush.
"Nuicui?" I asked.
She ducked her head in shame. In her mouth was the green gemstone.
"Nuicui, I'm sorry," I said.
She looked very much as if she wanted to say something, but instead she crept slowly closer and set Ta'y at my feet. Then she sat back and looked at it sadly.
"We didn't come to take it from you," I said.
She nodded understanding.
"You came to bring it to us, though, didn't you?"
Another nod, looking away.
"All this time you've been here on the edge of Rousha?"
She turned her eyes back to the stone.
"I think you're very brave, Nuicui," I said.
She shook her head sadly. I thought about that. I didn't know what to say.
In the tree-dappled moonlight, Nuicui looked almost like an angel, her white wings shimmering around her like a halo. She was as beautiful as Banquo had described her. I thought about Banquo, what he would look like at her side: black wings, deep golden fur. They would be like sunset and morning.
"Did you know that Banquo loves you?" I asked, startling her out of her reverie.
Nuicui looked at me with wide eyes and shook her head.
"He's loved you all his life," I said, "He needs you."
Nuicui closed her eyes and lifted her chin. She seemed to be concentrating on something. I felt a surge of magic.
"But what could I do for Banquo?" Her words in my head startled me.
I thought about her question.
"You can support him."
She cocked her head to one side, waiting for me to explain.
"He loves the way you care for the little cubs," I said, "Your gentleness. He just wants to be part of that, to be with you."
A tear started in the corner of Nuicui's eye and rolled partway down her cheek where it soaked into her pale fur.
"I never knew this," she said in my head, and I felt the magic surge around me again.
"He isn't proven," I said, "He didn't feel he could tell you."
She concentrated. It took a few minutes for her to build enough magic for another sentence: "He thought he had to prove himself for me, a lioness who cannot prove herself?"
"Perhaps he thinks you already have."
Nuicui shook her head. She closed her eyes and the magic started to build, but this time the spell failed, so I could not understand what she said next. She lay down on the ground and put her head on her paws. I had a small knife and some of Uncle W.’s fireworks stored in the belt pocket under my skirt. I pulled one firework out and shot it into the sky. Nuicui lifted her head and watched its small red flame rise and fall.
"Now they can come to us," I said.
She nodded slightly and tucked her head into her chest. I sat down next to her. I didn’t really sleep, exhausted as I was from resisting the gomorph. I wanted to look for Liop and Mendel and only the fact that I would probably only get more lost prevented me from doing so. I think maybe an hour passed when Nuicui’s head shot up and I heard the sound of horses.
“We’re here!” I shouted, getting up on my feet. Nuicui slipped away and into the trees.
“Arri?” It was Mendel, “how did you get this far out? You missed everything! Captain Etautca must be the best dragon fighter in the world. And Banquo! How is it that fighting dragons doesn’t count with lions for proving themselves?”
“What about Liop?” I asked.
“Oh, I got him,” said Mendel, “I used a restraining spell—actually, Liop’s the one that showed it to me. He was pretty mad, but we both had a good view of the fighting.”
He rode into view on Tattheus, picking his way carefully through the underbrush. Asus followed on a lead. Excited as he was, Mendel’s eyes were overly large and his face pale, strained and tired. From her basket, Lexie whined unhappily.
“So where’s Nuicui?” Mendel added casually, looking around, “Both of your tracking spells end here.”
I looked around too, wondering if she had fled. I still had the stone in my pocket.
“Nuicui?” I asked.
A pale head poked around the trunk of a tree.
“Nuicui?” asked Mendel. He rose up in his stirrups so that he could bow deeply to her. Her head dropped.
“She’s going to help us,” I said, “but let’s find Banquo and Father and Liop.”
“Arri,” said Mendel solemnly, “you’re as good a tracker as I am.”

We followed Mendel back toward the road and met up with the others before we were even halfway.
“Arri!” shouted Liop, “You should see Father fight! He killed two dragons!”
“The second was immobilized,” said Father, nodding his head in Mendel’s direction, “That was quite a spell.”
“I learned it from Liop,” said Mendel, proudly.
“And I learned it from Keish!” said Liop, “She said it’s very effective on Caden.”
Father started to ask a question, thought better of it, and shook his head. “I’m inclined to think this was too easy,” he concluded.
“Easy?” asked Mendel, staring.
“I’ve been fighting an intangible enemy for five years. It was a relief to sink my sword into something I can understand.”
Mendel rarely looks humble, but he did now.
“I wish I was as skilled with a sword,” he admitted.
Father shook his head, “You’re immobilizing spells were invaluable. Seven dragons is a lot, even for me.”
“The battle was fugacious,” said Liop with a touch of disappointment, “the other dragons flew away when the fourth one fell.”
“Fugacious?” asked Father.
“Short,” Mendel supplied, “fugacious and ostentiferous. Don’t worry, Captain Etautca, being around Liop, your vocabulary will catch up.”
What Banquo and Nuicui said to each other, I don’t know. Nuicui kept her head down and shuffled around Banquo. Whatever she told him, his eyes grew sad. We decided to stop for the night and return in the morning. One reason was the need to clear the dead dragons away from the road. Father doesn’t take trophies from dragons, but Mendel and Liop each collected a horn. We weren’t really all that far away from the city, but we were tired, especially Father, though he wouldn’t admit it.
Liop and I laid out our bedrolls in the center with Father and Mendel on opposite sides of the clearing, Banquo and Nuicui completing the watch. Ta’y was still in my belt pocket.
As he took up his post, Mendel whispered to me: “Arri, if I ever request dragons as part of an adventure again, please knock me on the head. Hard.”

I woke up early the next morning, but not before Father and Mendel. They had their swords out and Father was demonstrating some military maneuver. Still a bit sleepy I watched them from my bedroll. Mendel had a short squire’s sword, very similar to Imato’s. He made several attempts to copy Father’s move, but his motions were awkward. Finally, he muttered something, running his hand along the blade. I caught a whiff of magic. This time his imitation of Father’s movement was near perfect.
“That’s cheating,” I said, sitting up.
Mendel turned very red. “It’s not cheating if it works,” he defended.
“Magic?” asked Father. I nodded. He laughed, then looked sternly at Mendel.
“In a real battle, I see no problem with using magic,” he said, “but during a tournament or when practicing technique, I agree: it’s cheating.”
“Understood, Captain,” said Mendel.
Liop and Banquo were hard to rouse, but eventually we all headed back to Rousha. Mendel and Liop were in high spirits, replaying the battle with the dragons in increasing detail as they rode. Nuicui kept trying to trail behind and Banquo would slow down for her. When we got to the edge of the city Banquo cast a glamour over us so that we could return to Gretel’s townhouse without attracting attention. It was interesting to walk under a glamour, because some people could tell that something was off about what they were seeing, and so would stare at us, but they couldn’t tell what exactly. It made me realize how much more effective the cloaking spell Uncle Winthrop is working on will be.
When we got to the house, we found Gretel and Nysa waiting for us. Uncle W. could not leave his spellwork. Nysa had a town boy waiting at the tree by the gate for her to send him a coded note announcing our arrival.
Gretel’s parlor was simply not designed for two winged lions, five adults and a child. Nuicui crouched out in the hallway and looked in, her eyes nervous. First Mendel and Liop had to be allowed to give their version of the battle. Then Father had to give a corrected version: There were not twenty dragons. We only killed four. The entire forest did not burn to the ground, only the tops of a few trees were lost. The whole thing took place in less than half an hour.
Really, I thought the real version was impressive enough without the embellishments.
Then I had to tell about meeting Nuicui, which caused a whole new round of questions, mostly from Father because I hadn’t mentioned the gomorph till that point. Then I showed everyone the stone from T’ay and how Nuicui had been bringing it to us all along. Here Nuicui growled at me and I was forced to admit that she was nervous about giving it to us, but I stuck to my version about how she intended to give it to us. I did not tell them about what I said to Nuicui to get her to come with us. It seemed like too much.
Finally it was Gretel and Nysa’s turn to tell about their adventure.
“Did you find Sir Raporty?” asked Father.
“Yes, Sir,” said Gretel, frowning, “and he has agreed to help us.”
“Excellent,” Father nodded, “anything else?”
“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Gretel.
“He owes me,” said Father, “and Sir Raporty pays his debts, the honorable ones at least.”
“He charges for debt repayment?” asked Nysa, skeptically.
“What did he ask for?” asked Father.
Gretel reddened, glancing at me, “He wants Jezreel’s ruby necklace.”
“He can have it,” I said at the same time Father said, “Part of Arri’s dowery.”
“I couldn’t talk him into money,” said Gretel.
“We might be able to pass off a copy on him,” said Father, “However, that’s a lot less than I expected. He is indeed taking this debt seriously.”
Keish, I have no idea what that means.
“Are you aware of Sir Raporty’s collection of illegal Grestian weapons?” asked Gretel suddenly.
“Yes,” said Father.
We all looked startled.
“There’s a great deal to Sir Raporty’s history which we do not have time to go into today. A lot of pain and healing is bound up in those weapons. We reached a compromise years ago in which Sir Raporty agreed to a very powerful anti-theft spell which would likely destroy the weapons if it were triggered. For his part, he agreed to let us destroy the weapons at his funeral.”
None of us quite knew what to say to this.
“There’s more news,” said Nysa, “Sir Stoddart has taken a band of elite soldiers. They left for Greste this morning with the goal of rescuing Imato themselves.”
“Good man, Sir Trogan,” said Father, “Anything else?”
“That’s all, Captain,” said Gretel.
“Good work,” said Father, “Now we need to plan the next stage of our quest. I’d like speak to Winthrop. Arri, would you make our guests the Lions comfortable? Master Mendel, I thank you very much for your help this weekend. I’d like to include you in my next council.”
“Do I get to request compensation in advance again?” asked Mendel brightly.
Father paused, smiling. “No,” he said, “I think I’ll choose my own wild beast encounters from now on.”
Mendel laughed. “How about a note of excuse for my professors?”
“That I will arrange,” said Father, “although I don’t want word of my recovery to spread yet. I’m sure I can get the King’s name on one for you when I see him this evening.”
“An airtight excuse, sir,” said Mendel, “See you tomorrow, Arri.” He bowed deeply, slipped around Nuicui and disappeared down the hallway.
After that we all tried to go about our business. Father, Liop, and Nysa went to see Uncle W. Gretel collapsed on a couch and tried to interest herself in her quilt blocks. I took Banquo and Nuicui out to the stable since Winged Lions don’t much like houses. Then I sat down and began writing out this letter.
It was a strange afternoon. Father came back in a couple of hours and shut himself into the parlor for privacy. He came back out an hour later and left in disguise to reveal himself to King Trunsle. Uncle Winthrop went with him. By the time they came back Hermes and Clotho had arrived with your letter. We all—Father, Uncle W., Nysa, Liop, Gretel, Banquo, and Nuicui gathered for me to read it out loud.
Liop is quite certain the whole chicken project will fail without roosters. Banquo, however, thinks that you are quite right in not wanting to be woken up at dawn.
Gretel said the one good thing about no longer living in the Adya tower is that she is going to miss Vanessa being pregnant entirely, which she doesn’t think her nerves could handle.
This caused Father to ask if you have divined Gretel’s due date yet, which you haven’t. Gretel is still a bit sensitive about me finding out before she did, so I’m not sure she intends to ask you, but I’m sure Imato will ask you as soon as he gets a chance, regardless of Gretel, so you can do what you want with that.
Next we had to pause and explain to Father about the girls’ schools in Adya. He is very impressed and offers you his congratulations. (And also belated congratulations on your marriage to Jace.)
Father says we must all have a reflection made, a family portrait, when we are all together.
You are right about Gretel not taking the news about the stable master well, although she admits she hardly knew him. He was hired only a few years ago. Emily is still staying with the Rothes. Gretel sent them all an apology and promised they would still get their wages, but she’s frightened to ask them back.
“I’ll interview them, individually,” said Father, after some thought, “I’d like to do it anyway. They might be helpful.”
“Thank you,” said Gretel.

Uncle W. thought Caden’s assignment to befriend you very funny. Father, after hearing some explanation was amused, but disappointed that the assignment was not more “useful”. He would like to know the names of all the spies and traitors that Caden uncovers, particularly if there is one by the name of H’ma, whom the Elcaran army lost track of several years ago. Of course, Father’s information is outdated, and that spy may already have been caught.
We are all very surprised by the news about White, that he was recommended by Darius. Again Father required some explanation, so he could be surprised too. None of us are quite sure what to make of it. We were quiet for a long time.
“Could he be a Narl?” asked Father.
“What do you mean?” asked Nysa and Uncle W. at once.
“From what you’ve told me of Gessair and the Narls, they were in the habit of controlling people magically, wiping their memories when the spell ended. When Gessair’s power was broken, numerous men were found wandering around with no memory of where they had been.”
“Yes,” said Uncle W., “but White was found thirteen-fourteen years ago.”
“Controlling spells are incredibly hard to maintain. It seems likely that the Narls had a victim escape from time to time over the years.”
We all considered that.
“Of course there’s no evidence,” said Uncle W.
“You’re right,” said Father, “but it bears thinking about. When we find White, he must be interrogated and examined by the palace magicians. Thoroughly.”
“I want to talk to him first,” said Gretel, and even Father looked a little intimidated.
The news that Imato is in Aitero did not surprise Father too much. He said that it would make a surprise rescue more difficult to pull off.
Father wanted to know about Dr. Kondamuri. It seemed like bad timing for that topic though, so I said it had something to do with Mendel and college and he let it go, although he didn’t look entirely convinced.
Gretel doesn’t lace her boots anymore. She just gets help. She says you’ll understand one day. She says that it is very frustrating to study magical theory when she really wants to practice. Father echoed this sentiment.
I deflected Father’s question about Moonstone too.

After reading the last part of your letter we were all silent a long time.
“Sir Quin,” asked Nysa, “do you have any of the memories Keish gave you?”
He shook his head, eyes very wide.
“Why?” she asked.
“His brain couldn’t hold them so long,” I said slowly, reluctantly.
“What do you mean?” asked Father.
“Well,” I said, thinking hard, “there are different kinds of brain cells, and some of them hold memories. And there are different kinds of brain cells that hold memories. I don’t know what they’re called…”
Everyone looked at Liop. He shook his head.
“I found out because of trying to write the spell, and watching my brain cells and comparing them to yours.” I kept my eyes on Father.
“Anyway, some memory-brain-cells hold memories for a long time, and some only hold them for a short time. And the spell was mostly on the long-time memory cells. It locked them up so that you couldn’t get to them at all. The short-time memory cells were only impacted a little. Those cells only had some memories, what you had been thinking about recently, or doing recently.”
“The battle,” said Father.
“Yes,” I said, “And then Keish was feeding memories into you, but they couldn’t go into the long-time cells. They had to go into the short-time cells, but those were already full, so some of them had to be erased. That’s because the memories from the short-time cells couldn’t send anything to the long-time cells.”
Father nodded.
“So some of my memories from the battle must be lost,” he said.
“Yes, it seems likely, probably the most recent ones,” I said, “So Keish kept feeding you memories, but to get them, you had to lose the ones she sent you before, usually the most recent.”
“But what about the Bellington Ward?” Uncle W. interrupted, “You helped Imato with that.”
Father thought about it.
“We had been discussing strategy that morning,” he said, “and I had been thinking how a Bellington ward would come in handy—it was only wishful thinking, really.”
“So you had those thoughts in the short-time memory cells,” I said, “and you could use them to help Imato.”
“So for the last five years, I’ve been reliving the last days of my last battle,” said Father softly, “I must have been…” He stopped. None of us was looking at him.
“Did I hurt anyone?” he asked in a strained voice.
“No,” said Uncle W. firmly, “you saved many lives.”
We all were quiet for a minute.
“Then,” I continued slowly, “when I performed the spell, I broke through to the old memories and together, we pulled one into short term memory.”
“Liop’s birth,” said Father.
“And that erased some of what was already there,” I concluded, “and so now you have none of the memories Keish sent you at all.”
“But she can give them to you again!” said Liop, “That’s what Keish says in her letter.”
We all brightened. Father nodded.
“Yes, I’d like that—the weddings, the birthdays,” he paused, “but not the adventures, please, nothing I might wish I could change.”
“Why?” asked Gretel.
“Jesse could work that spell too,” said Father, “and she fed me one of her adventures from before we met. It drives me crazy, not having been there, to have helped. I could have saved her some pain…” He shook his head. “The adventures I’d like to hear in your words, just as you want to tell them. That will be enough.”
I think I understand.

Eventually, we had discussed everything as much as it could be discussed. Uncle W., Nysa, and Liop left. Gretel went to bed, exhausted, worried, hoping that she could sleep a little. The Lions went down to the stable.
“I’m curious,” said Father, after the door closed behind Banquo, “what are all these intellectual circles you’re in the center of?”
I reddened. “Mendel’s crazy,” I said.
“You’re going to see him tomorrow?” Father was watching me closely. I wasn’t sure I could go any redder.
“Him and Gordo,” I said, “You see with everything I had to learn to make that spell to heal you—it was a lot to learn—and Master Ujifil taught me how to pay proper attention… but what I really needed to know about was cells. Biological cells, I mean. And Uncle W. wanted me to slow down the magic. So it was his idea really—the science. That’s why I enrolled in medical school. Mendel and Gordo are my study group.”
I think I did a better job of introducing the topic to Phyfe.
I suppose it didn’t matter though, because once he processed my long explanation, Father’s reaction was much like Phyfe’s was: consternation. He shook his head in wonder and didn’t answer right away. You know, Keish, it’s funny, but Father had been a lot less surprised the day before when I told him about trapping the griffon.
“You enrolled in medical school so you could help me?”
I nodded.
“And what do you think of it?”
“I like it,” I said, a little awkwardly, “I never knew cells existed before, and they are so fascinating.”
Father smiled.
“I had hoped we would have a scholar in the family,” he said finally, “Arri, I’m very proud of you. Thank you.” Then he gave me a hug.
“What time is your first class tomorrow morning?” he asked.
“Nine,” I said, “but I have a lot of homework to do.”
“I’d better let you get to work then,” said Father. He laughed lightly. “You’re probably already beyond what I studied in the military academy, but if you would like any help, I can try.”
“Thank you,” I said. He hugged me again and I went to my room to study. Although mostly I stared blankly at the wall, thinking to myself how glad I was that Father was home, and hoping the battle with the dragons wouldn’t give me nightmares. Then finally, I gave up on studying and finished this letter, which I’m going to send right away, because even though there will be more news tomorrow, you need to know that we found Nuicui as soon as possible. Tomorrow, I’ll start another letter.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- April 2, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 2, 2005
Dear Arri,

This week has felt like a bit of a whirlwind, Arri.
Keaton managed to get his brooder all set up in what must have been record time and dragged Master Zart (and Dylan) off Wednesday to get his chicks-- assuring me that none of them would be roosters. I appreciate that-- Blaze waking me up at dawn is quite enough without accompanying crowing.
The chicks are nothing more than multi-colored balls of fluff for now, but Keaton seems confident that all four will be excellent laying hens. Eventually.
King Menion re-instituted the Gazette, with the stipulation that Lord Schieving step down.
So not only is the Gazette being printed again, but Caden is now in charge, at least for the time being.
Heaven help us all.
Last night, after Caden had everything set for today’s grand edition, we had a bonfire burning all of the old paper. Caden laid in a completely new supply of paper, and convinced me to lay a light charm on all of it protecting the identities of the writers. I didn’t want to, particularly, but it seemed better to do the enchantment myself and be completely certain what it was.
Today’s Gazette is a special royal announcement-- ALL FIVE young royal couples are expecting. The number of royal grandchildren will double by the end of the year.
When Caden told Jace and me yesterday, I couldn’t quite stifle a groan. Thus far I’ve managed to completely avoid one of my mother’s main “duties” at court-- divining royal births-- but given how far my magic has progressed in just the last two years… I didn’t see how I could possibly escape it with FIVE impending births.
Jace gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Maybe they won’t ask,” he said optimistically. “And two of them don’t even live at court.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Caden said, handing me an envelope.
I took it quizzically. “Now you’re interfering with my post?”
He laughed. “Only when a letter for you is in a package for me.”
Since Caden doesn’t want anyone to know where he’s staying, he’s receiving all of his post at his club.
The letter was from Raquel, which I’d guessed already since it came through Caden. There was a request for the divination and a glossy lock of dark hair.
I sighed, but since I’d already decided that I quite like the Duchess of Orullian I didn’t really mean it. “Well, she already has an idea when the baby will be born, but she likes the idea of having me narrow it down.”
Jace cocked his head to one side. “The moon is waning. Are you going to wait until full on the 24th?”
I thought about it a moment. I could perform the divination at any time, of course, but full moon provides the best clarity. “I think so.”
Caden nodded. “Maybe everyone will make a request by then and you can do them all in one night,” he said brightly.
I stuck my tongue out at him.

I also met with Master Byra this week-- so far we’ve handed the other Adya schools over to the administrators who are going to work with the boys’ schools they’re attached to in order to standardize a curriculum for graduation.
The palace school is going to have slightly different requirements, due to our need for greater flexibility, and also offer an option to take a reading and skills test to receive a diploma without attending all of the classes.
As of next year, we will also officially be a school for ALL palace servants, boys as well as girls.
This goes hand in hand with King Menion’s new announcement. Rather than announcing Euan’s Prince Regency, the king announced a series of new educational laws. Boys’ education is now mandatory until age 14, like in Elcaro, and girls’ education is required up to age 10. All boys’ schools throughout Arella are now scrambling to accommodate female students as well, and the royal treasury is covering all costs for mandatory education.
I’m thrilled, Arri. We’ve done so much so quickly!
We’re also altering the courses offered here slightly-- Caden has agreed to teach writing (provided everything he’s doing for the king is settled, of course) and Cass will be taking over some of the more basic classes-- reading and handwriting. This leaves me with a higher reading course and a literature course and hopefully a little more time for magic, since Ryland and Malia have requested more formal magic instruction.
Jace is going to focus on Elcaran history, while continuing to teach defense with Kaplan, who has agreed to take on the bulk of physical fitness requirements. Jace has enjoyed teaching astronomy, but it’s not really practical at this level.

And then there’s Keaton.
He’s doing well. Very well. His magic is progressing… I have no worries about any further flaring.
But I’m not ready to just say he’s done and send him home.
Jace and I have been talking about it a lot lately. We both feel that Keaton needs another year here with us. Another year to develop his magic. Another year to develop his confidence.
I think he just assumes he’ll be returning after the summer. After all, his hens won’t begin laying until they are around 5 months old.
I have a letter from his parents requesting an update and Jace and I plan to respond tomorrow, requesting another year. I hope they agree. Certainly living at the palace is a wonderful thing for his future.
It might be time for the Leilanis to stop ignoring the Adyan court.

April 3rd
Tish ate lunch with us today. She and Caden attempted to take reflections of cells through the microscope yesterday, along with some other experiments. She was going to write to you of their results, but asked me to convey her apologies instead, as they learned nothing conclusive of which to write.
“I do not believe it is possible with my equipment,” she said, “but that does not make it impossible.”
“We just need better lenses,” Caden put in.
“And to spend less time making reflections of chickens?” Jace asked with a smile.
Keaton blushed.
Jace laughed. “I’m teasing, Kea. The reflections are marvelous. And your idea of using a spell to keep the chicks still worked perfectly.”
“Yeah, that could catch on,” Caden said with a grin. “Don’t you think children’s portraits could use that kind of creative thinking, Jace?”
“Just what every parent wants-- a spell forcing their child to sit.” I said it sarcastically, but Tish laughed.
“You might be surprised,” she declared.
I thought about Liop and how much trouble in manages in such short periods of time. “No, actually I don’t think I would,” I replied.
“Now you’ve given her ideas,” Jace teased.
“Nothing new, I’ve just never thought of using such spells on children,” I shot back.
Caden grimaced, remembering the time I’d used such a spell on him.
His expression made Tish laugh and soon they were off to the drawing room for a writing lesson, with Keaton in tow.

Jace and I sat down to write to Keaton’s parents, but after I had crumpled several sheets of paper into balls (which littered the floor) I gave up and left it to Jace. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.

Caden was finally contacted by his “Grestean friends”. He’s attending another meeting tonight.

April 4th
Caden has met six people at the meetings so far. The three from the first meeting were joined last night by a valet (to Sir Ceto), a palace footman, and, the apparent leader in Adya-- the stable master for the Aoweirs. I’m sure that will be hard for Gretel to hear. We’ve sent a letter to Imato and Queran already, though of course it will take a few days to get to them. And there’s nothing they can do anyway.
Caden feels confident that he’s met everyone in Adya now. Last night was mostly introductions, but he’s to meet with the leader, Ma’ile (Martin Cobbles, as the Aoweirs know him), again tonight. He thinks he’ll be given an assignment.
Hopefully nothing terrible-- or the king will have to intervene before he wanted to.
At the moment, we’re just relieved none of them is a magician.

April 5th
Something feels odd today, Arri.
Perhaps it’s just worry about Caden…. He stayed at his club last night and the only word we’ve had is that he is fine.
Jace is concerned, both about what they may have asked Caden to do and about him missing a sparring session.
I don’t think that’s the source of this strange feeling, though.

April 6th
After spending a second night at his club, Caden paid us a formal call this afternoon.
To say that Jace and I were both astonished is possibly an understatement.
Once the three of us were firmly ensconced in our library, Jace demanded an explanation.
It took Caden no fewer than three false starts before he actually got talking.
By the time he was finished, it was me who was speechless. I stared at Caden, utterly dumbfounded. Caden was staring steadfastly at the floor, his ears decidedly pink.
And Jace, my dear mostly-reserved Jace, was laughing. Heartily.
The gist of the situation is this: Caden has been given the assignment of befriending us to gather information. The irony was certainly not lost on any of us.
More specifically, however, Caden is to befriend me and use whatever charm is required to learn all he needs to learn.
When I finally regained my ability to form coherent thoughts I demanded, “Am I to understand that you are to seduce me if no other means of gathering information presents itself?”
This made Caden’s pink ears turn red and only made Jace laugh harder.
Finally, Jace put a hand on Caden’s shoulder. “I wish you all the luck in the world,” he said. He had stopped laughing, mostly, but still couldn’t keep a straight face. I think half the laughter was relief that Caden’s assignment is so harmless.
Really, I don’t think we could be more lucky. They could have asked Caden to do something far worse.
Caden finally chuckled a little. I’m not sure he completely trusted Jace’s reaction, because when Jace suggested they get some sparring in Caden looked slightly panicked.
I rolled my eyes. “Jace isn’t going to hold it against you,” I told him. “You should be more worried about having missed a session.”
Caden still looked skeptical.
Jace clapped him on the back. “Come now, Caden. Even if I thought you were serious, it’s Keisha you would want to be afraid of,” he said with a smile. “I’ll just go change. Meet me in the drawing room.”
Somehow, Caden did not seem relieved by this bit of information, but he headed out to change anyway.

April 8th
I feel strange again today. It’s as though something is pulling at me, but I can’t see it… can’t tell what it is.
It’s driving me completely to distraction which I do NOT need right now.
Caden has another meeting tonight. I thought I’d enjoy all of this subterfuge, but it’s grating on my nerves.

April 9th
I’ve sent yet another letter to Imato (by pigeon again, though I haven’t gotten a response to my last one yet). I don’t know what to make of what Caden learned last night, but Imato should at least know.
Caden has learned the identity of Mic’o. Oh, Arri, it’s White, Imato’s valet.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jace look so stunned. We just stared at each other, eyes wide.
“But… I was the one who engaged him for Imato,” Jace said in a hoarse whisper.
Caden looked confused so I gave him an extremely condensed version of the search for valets.
“Where did you find him?” he asked Jace when I was finished.
I looked at Jace expectantly. I had never heard the full story behind his hiring of White. Too much was going on and eventually we all got used to White and forgot to wonder about it.
Jace rubbed one hand across his face. “After a few days it was pretty clear to me that Imato was never going to be able to choose because none of the valets we’d interviewed were quite right for him, so I had Ryland do some checking. He found three candidates and I interviewed them. White had a glowing character from his previous employer, plus a letter of reference that he said he had shown at every interview for more than a decade. I was the first to ever show interest in it.”
“Well who wrote it?” I prompted when Jace paused.
“Darius.”
I was now even more confused than Caden. “But White’s not… there’s no sense of magic about him.”
Jace nodded. “I know. He’s not like most of the people Darius finds, but Darius found him under similar circumstances. Not a fairy, but wandering and confused.”
“Did your friend know he was Grestean?” Caden asked softly.
Jace shook his head. “Darius though he was Yugliv, though White didn’t know so it was just guesswork. It took Darius more than a year to work with White. When White was ready, Darius gave him two letters-- one to a friend who could help him find a position and a more general one that White was to keep until he found an employer who showed interest.”
Jace left the room quickly, returning a few minutes later with a worn piece of paper. He handed it to me. “I offered it to Imato when I told him how I’d hired White, but he said I should keep it since we are the ones who have actually met Darius.”
I felt the magic before actually touching the paper. The words on the page were simple enough, nothing special. “It was the magic Darius expected to attract attention,” I said.
Jace nodded. “Imato said there was some sort of magic in it. It caught my attention because of Darius’ name, of course. I imagine Darius thought that eventually White may find an employer who recognized the magic and could help him recover something of his past.”
I looked at Jace quizzically. “And should we have, when he was still here?”
Jace shrugged. “Imato and I asked him” (by which, of course, Jace meant he asked White in Imato’s presence) “but White is content with his life.”
We were silent a moment as we considered the possible ramifications.
“So what does all this mean?” Caden asked softly.
Jace sighed. “I don’t know.”
We wrote to Imato, as I said. And of course Caden made a report to King Menion.
What could they want with White? Darius found him some 13 or 14 years ago-- what could he possibly have to do with what’s happening now?

April 10th
I know why Imato has not answered my letter.
Caden came tearing into our sitting room earlier with the report of Imato’s capture and the ransom demands. I felt ill and Jace looked like he did too.
“But… how?” Jace asked.
Caden shook his head. “No one knows anything.”
I was biting my lip in concentration when Jace put his hand on mine. “Keisha…”
I shook my head sharply to quiet him. The odd tugging sensation was back and this time Imato’s wards on Jace and I both flickered.
“Imato!” I gasped. I all but ran for my study, wanting my mirror.
I could hear Caden asking Jace what was going on as they followed me, but I blocked out their conversation and focused on Imato.
“Keish, thank the heavens!” Imato’s voice was muffled and I couldn’t see him well. “I’ve been trying to use a calling spell to reach you on and off for days.”
There was some kind of shield or ward interfering-- I couldn’t make the connection open properly.
“Imato, what happened?”
His response was almost garbled. “Misunderstanding… caught off guard… White’s not….”
“Imato!” I yelled aloud, using all my will to restore the calling spell.
“I’m fine for now,” I heard as the spell cleared a little. “But I’m in Aitero and I think they lied about that.”
“The ransom note said the capital.”
Imato nodded. I could barely see him.
“I’m losing you!” I cried, fear making my voice tremble slightly.
“Tell Arri not to come. No one should come. I’ll find…”
And I lost him.
I tried for hours to call him. I used every calling spell I knew and a few I’d never tried. I tried using the wards he left on Jace and I.
I tried everything, Arri, but I can’t reach him.
Caden has offered to get a pigeon to send you this letter immediately, but I want to see your letter first. If the ransom note was seen in Rousha the 9th then I’m sure I’ll have a letter from you soon.

April 11th
After Hermes took my last letter, I found a feather on my desk and gave it to Keaton.
After spending most of the morning pacing (having sent Cass to cover my classes) I went to borrow it from Keaton and did some divining.
Seeing Hermes and Clotho together and nearing Adya made me both calmer and more impatient.
Finally your letter was in my hands.
I’ve read it several times through now and as no one is home with whom to share it I think I must be mercilessly disciplined in answering everything in order.

Certainly we could all do with fewer distractions, but not going to Marobury has certainly proven to be the wisest course of action.
It is nice to have the garden. Or it will be nice once it’s completed. I would think Malia could enter a fairy ring. I’m sure she would love to see your mother’s garden, as would I.
Caden’s ball was certainly interesting. I don’t think a ball has ever been so talked of after the fact. Caden refusing to talk about it has only added to the drama. (You’ll notice that I’ve said not one word of Euan’s birthday ball. It was last week and so entirely unworthy of comment that it seems everyone forgot all about it the moment they left the ballroom.)
As Liop hears all about raising chicks over the next several weeks I rather expect his requests will be renewed and get increasingly creative, even if he already has animals enough. Though perhaps other circumstances will prove distraction enough.
Lord Macario does seem to be Caden’s most likeable immediate relation, though I don’t suppose his other brothers are too terrible. It seems that nothing he has uncovered for the king so far is anything you don’t already know, though.
I am of the firm opinion that Dr. Kondamuri deserves a personal visit from Queen Elspeth.
Though letting Brynn have at him may provide more entertainment.
Perhaps I’ll just have a word with him myself the next time I’m in Rousha. Or several.
Possibly of the magical and unpleasant variety.
Of course it’s entirely unfair, the man is clearly a fool.
At least Mendel is a master of distraction-- riding is a perfect diversion.
Gretel’s latest letter includes a full page bemoaning her inability to retrieve anything from the floor. I’m too afraid to ask how she laces her boots.
Her study of magical theory has been fairly thorough, it seems, based on her response to your partial spells and her letters lately. I’m glad she has become so interested-- she’s certain to provide excellent advice.
It is probably good though also terrible that you were with Captain Stoddart when the ransom note came.
You have already read how we learned of the matter-- and what Imato himself said. Of course I won’t tell you not to go-- I don’t know what he was thinking-- but at least you know he says he’s in Aitero.

I would demand a copy of your amazing spell, but somehow I doubt I would understand more than half of it… and I’m certain I couldn’t use it. Still, you will have to show me next time I see you.
I wish I could make the calling spell work, if only to tell Imato about Moonstone.

Brios are known for making history with magic. Imato performed a Bellington ward. Now you have done what no one could-- and done it in a way many would have thought impossible. But of course, you are a Brio.
I hope you’ve made a detailed account in the Chronicle.
I’m sure if you haven’t you will.
I am so glad you have your father back. I’m excited to see him when we can.

So the mystery of Ta’y has been resolved. I’m glad.
I’m baffled, however, at how a healing stone could be used as a weapon.

Gretel must be taking her archery very seriously of late. It’s not a hobby I ever joined her in. I felt that if I were going to learn it was certainly not going to be on a little lady’s hobby bow. I wanted a real bow.
But even Gretel, though good at it, never took it seriously in Adya.

I’m not sure what to make of the information about White, but since I’ve already written about that it seems silly to cover the same ground. I agree with your father, though-- we should not jump to conclusions.
I don’t think we need to worry about Emily. She lived here for months, sharing a room with Malia. If something were amiss, surely we’d have seen it?

While I would never tell anyone not to go on a quest, you do all realize what Imato’s reaction will be if Gretel shows up in Greste? He’s going to be angry enough about any of the rest of you going.
I’m glad Mendel and Liop aren’t being left behind, though. It’s high time they were included-- from the beginning and intentionally.

Later
Finally, Jace returned from his classes and I was able to have him read your letter. (Papa and Caden will have to hear about it at dinner, for I’ve still seen hide nor hair.)
Jace shouted and spun me around when I told him you’d healed your father, then sat to read the entire letter.
When he finished he looked slightly puzzled. “You spoke with Sir Quin in dreams. He knew about Gretel, about the wedding. Why…?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how much of that he’ll ever remember. I had hoped…”
I trailed off. Not even Jace knew what I had attempted.
“Keisha?” Jace asked.
“I haven’t even mentioned it to Arri,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”
Jace pulled his chair closer so that our knees touched and put his hands on my shoulders. Anyone with less than Jace’s seemingly inexhaustible reserves of patience would have shaken me until my teeth rattled. “Tell me,” he said simply.
And so I did, and now I tell you, Arri.
Since Imato’s wedding, I’ve been using magic to enter your father’s dreams the way he has entered mine. Well, not the same way, exactly. They haven’t been conversations.
Basically, once every week or two, I use magic to open a connection and feed your father my memories. Imato’s wedding. Liop being taken by the fairies and your rescuing him. My own wedding. The spell in the cave, that I performed what feels like forever ago. The spell we all performed in Rousha. Your birthday. Liop’s visit.
Little things, big things.
I knew you would find a way to heal him soon, and I wanted to try to give him back some of what he has missed.
I guess it didn’t work, though I suppose those memories could surface as he grows stronger.
I don’t really know. It was an experiment.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have.
Jace was quiet when I finished my explanation. He looked at me thoughtfully. “Even if it didn’t work, you could still do that.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”
Jace seemed excited as he thought more about the possibilities. “You could sit down with him and open that connection-- show him all those things.”
As I saw what he was saying I felt my face light up.
I could, Arri. I could give him not only my own memories, but if we were all together I could give him yours. Liop’s. Gretel’s. Imato’s, once we get him back.
Not too many. Not enough to overwhelm. But I could do it.

I’m about to go down to dinner, where I’m sure there will be much celebration, as there should be.
I hope you have already told King Trunsle, because I doubt I’ll be able to keep Caden from informing King Menion.
I want to send this now, though. Wherever you are in your search for Nuicui, I hope Hermes and Clotho find you swiftly.

Love Always,

Keish

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Arri- April 3, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

April 3, 2005
Dear Keish,

Captain Stoddart sent a note giving me one last chance to join the inquiry to Marobury the evening before he sent them. At your suggestion, he invited Brynn to join the party and she agreed, although she will not be leading it. She is going more as a consultant. I responded to the repeated invitation with as polite a declination as I could think of and as much encouragement and well-wishes as seemed to show how sorry I was not to be going. I do wish I could go, but I am glad I didn’t. I think the Lioness is right, I need fewer distractions.
How wonderful to have your own private garden! I’m sure Malia did a beautiful job arranging it. I wonder if she can enter a fairy ring? I know Ryland can’t. Perhaps, if Malia can, she would like to see my mother’s garden in the prairie some time. I’m not trying to steal her away to work on it. It’s rather beautiful in a wild, forgotten kind of way. I was just thought she might like to see it.
Caden’s ball sounds like it was a terrifying event. Even the Winter Ball last year when Lady Clara was introduced to the court was less intimidating than the ball you just attended. I am glad I didn’t have to go. However, it sounds as though you handled it beautifully. Next time I come to visit you can show me your dress. Gretel did not get to read this letter, which seems best considering Lady Aoweir’s performance. When I read Gretel the bits of the letter I thought she’d like to hear, I skipped that. It’s just very sad that Gretel doesn’t have a mother she can trust or confide in.
I’ve never seen an Araucana chicken before. I’m going to have to find a book about chickens at the library. They sound very interesting. Liop thought he ought to be able to raise chickens too, but Uncle W. was quick to point out that the apartment has no yard. Liop explained that they could use the roof. Uncle W. is impressed with this creativity, but is determined that he will not be woken up by roosters crowing over his head. Liop will have to do without chickens for the time being. Besides, with Nozama, Coulter, and the fire newts, Liop has enough pets to be looking after. Actually, I think Coulter is more Uncle W.’s dog—not that he’s going to admit it.
At least Caden has one brother who’s willing to stand up for him. Lord Macario sounds like a good guy. Offering Caden a teaching position sounds like a good idea. It would give him something to do after he’s done being a spy for King Menion. I hope he is able to uncover everything that is going on. Maybe he’ll be able to find out exactly what the last two Sunem name glyphs mean.

April 4th

Today found Mendel and Gordo arguing vigorously over their Elcaran History assignment. They don’t have the class at the same time, but the same professor is teaching them both. I couldn’t see the point of the argument, so I was just following along as we looked for a quiet place to study. Suddenly Mendel stopped mid-sentence and turned his head. Gordo followed suit. From around the corner of the second floor of the Math building we could hear Dr. Kondamuri’s confident voice.
“Of course I did everything I could for her,” he was saying, “you can see from her grades that term, but it was inevitable that her grades should fall. Every term she’ll require more and more support, until eventually she reaches the limit of what a woman can obtain. Westridge and Yawmus can only help her so much.”
I froze and a kind of anger boiled up. It isn’t fair, Keish! Every student on campus belongs to at least one study group. It’s the only way to get through. However, if I have a study group, it’s evidence of weakness. Dr. Kondamuri is not the only professor to look specifically at me when providing information about tutors and study groups. It seems like to prove myself I must not only take tests in isolation, I must also study alone. Technically, Dr. Kondamuri is the only professor to require tests in isolation.
I suppose only a few seconds passed while all these angry thoughts coursed through me. Then I felt Mendel’s hand on my elbow. He steered me toward the stairs. Gordo was looking at me with surprise.
“Unbelievable,” muttered Mendel, “Come on, we’ll go up a floor and check for empty classrooms.”
“Arri’s grades are above average,” said Gordo in confusion, “and neither of us is capable of helping her with biology.”
“I suppose they assume Master Grant is,” I muttered. I let Mendel guide me up the stairs.
“Dr. Kondamuri is a cockalorum,” said Mendel, rather loudly. He paused and a slight smile crossed his face, “We all need help. Even Gordo gets help with Iconese from an eight-year-old.”
“So, who do you get help from?” asked Gordo, a little defensively.
“Fish, of course,” I said, relieved by the distraction.
“Golden trout,” Mendel corrected me, “and they assure me they all have their doctorates.”
Gordo laughed and the tension I was feeling dissipated.
“You should invite Master Grant to study with us,” he said, “It’s much more fun to study as a group.”
“He’s very busy,” I said.
“Too busy to study?” asked Mendel.
“Well, Master Grant is engaged,” I said, reddening a bit, “He’s to be married this summer to Miss Sagiteria Curtiz.”
“Really?” asked Mendel, sounding pleased, “You must convey my congratulations! I think I’ll send them a gift!”
Then he sobered a bit, looking at me.
“I was thinking, Arri,” he said, “I have two fine jumpers in the school stables that need exercise. This weekend is probably going to be the easiest we have in a while. Would you and Gordo like to go riding?”
“On Asus?” I asked, then stopped, thinking, “I can bring Sprigs. That will make three horses.”
“Great! Gordo can ride Sprigs,” said Mendel.
“Will Sprigs take an inexperienced rider?” asked Gordo, hesitantly, “Asus threw me several months ago.”
“Yes,” I said, “He was initially trained as a children’s mount, although he made a fine squire’s horse for Imato. He’s not much of a jumper though. Imato tried to train him, but cerbats aren’t really bred for jumping.”
“Perfect,” said Mendel, “Arri can handle a holsteiner, and Gordo gets the squire’s mount. I think you’ll like Sprigs, Gordo.”
Gordo looked uncertain, but willing to try. As holsteiners, Asus and Tattheus are excellent jumpers. I’ve ridden Asus before and the opportunity to do so again was more than I could pass up.

April 6th
“You’ve read that one before,” said Gretel. She was standing behind me as I stared blankly at a passage in the Chronicle. I had all of my notes scattered about the table and a stack of blank paper to one side. It had been a whole ream, but a quarter of the sheets were wadded up on the floor. I suppose in my frustration I wasn’t worrying much about the mess. Gretel started to bend and gather them up, but she stopped before she got very far.
“I suppose I’ll ask Emily to do it,” she said, putting her hand on her back. Her condition is showing now; none of her dresses will hide it. In a few more weeks, she will start her confinement.
“I’ll clean up before I go to bed,” I said, gathering a couple of the crumpled sheets closest to me and setting them on the desk. Curious, Gretel grabbed one and smoothed it out.
“Where did this spell come from?” she asked, studying it.
“Nowhere,” I said, self-consciously, “It’s not a spell.”
“Not a complete one,” Gretel agreed. She smoothed out the second sheet.
“Arri,” she said after a pause, “when are you going to try this?”
“It’s not ready,” I said, “I have to test it.”
“How will you test it?”
“Well, that’s the problem,” I said slowly, “I don’t know how. The only way to test it would be to recreate the conditions in a laboratory where I can control the variables, but I can’t do that.”
“Is that how spells are normally tested?” asked Gretel.
“This isn’t a normal spell,” I said.
“It isn’t a science experiment either,” said Gretel.
She had a point.
“Gretel,” I said, “if this spell goes wrong, someone could die.”
Gretel didn’t say anything. She bent down and grabbed another paper to smooth out. She held it next to the second sheet and compared them. Frowning, she reached for another sheet. I didn’t offer to help. She got it after a minute and spread it out to compare.
“I know,” I admitted finally, “I’m just wasting paper writing the same things over and over.”
Gretel shook her head.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, “I don’t know much about magic. Maybe it’s time to visit the Winged Lioness again.”
She took the three identical copies of the spell and set them in front of me. Then she went to the cupboard where she found the quilt blocks she came for.
“I wish I could help,” she said finally, sadly, and took her seat on the sofa with a needle and thread.
I turned back to staring blankly at the page in the Chronicle.
It’s not ready, Keish. And I’m scared to try it. But first it needs a solvent anyway. I don’t think ordinary water will work, but nothing passes through a cell membrane better than water.

April 8th
In geology today I learned that stalactite and stalagmites are formed from mineral drops dissolved in water and dripping in caves. It takes thousands of years to make a big one. Most of the corridors and rooms in the Brio caves are not so old, nor do they drip water, but in my wanderings I did find one passage that was more damp than others. It made me feel cold and uncomfortable, so I left it alone, but I wonder if I follow it, if I could find some of the older, natural parts of the caves. There might be stalactites and stalagmites, and underground pools of water such as I’ve been reading about in my biology book. I don’t think the intaglios in my textbook do the idea justice. I remember Adler’s description of the beauty of the Brio caves. I’m not sure I’ve seen that beauty yet. I’d like to.

April 9th
Asus is a fabulous jumper. This morning I took him over as many of the tallest hedges on the castle grounds as we could find. Gordo had a hard time keeping up with us, but he was a good sport about it and seemed mainly grateful that we didn’t try to talk him into jumping Sprigs over anything.
I was in pretty high spirits as we wiped down the horses at the King’s stables and prepared to go home. It was still morning, bright and beautiful. We were just leading the horses out again to take them home when a page came running up.
“Message for Lady Arri,” he said, bowing and handing it to me. It was the same boy who gave the note to the Queen during our lunch some months ago.
I took the note. Gordo pretended polite interest in Sprigs, but Mendel was clearly interested. I started to put it in my satchel.
“Pardon, my lady,” said the page, “but it’s to be read immediately.”
I sighed and opened it. Mendel watched my face.
“It’s just a note to stop by Captain Stoddart’s office on my way out,” I told him after a minute.
“Sounds important,” said Mendel.
“Maybe he has news about the name glyphs,” I said. The note did not sound urgent. I told the page I would be up after seeing Sprigs into a stall.
I could tell Mendel wanted more than anything to stay and find out about the meeting, but Gordo reminded him that they had other commitments for the day and reluctantly, they left us. I supposed I would be interrogated thoroughly the next time I saw them.
The castle grounds being very large, it took several minutes to make my way over to the tower and up the stairs to the captain’s office. By the time I did, I had had plenty of time to think of all the different reasons why he might want to meet with me and to become very worried.
“Welcome, Lady Arri,” said the captain, opening the door for me. He invited me to sit and asked after Gretel’s health. My answers were rather distracted.
“I read the latest report from Sergeant Levine this morning and Sir Imato’s division is doing very well. We’re going to bring home two divisions this month and much of that success is due to your brother’s success with the Bellington ward.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, brightening.
“I intend to keep you apprised of the progress with the inquiry. I know you correspond with Brynn, so I hope you’ll keep me informed of anything you learn with regards to matters.”
“Yes, of course,” I said.
“Thank you,” he smiled.
It seemed like the conversation was coming to a close. I was feeling that it was very nice of the captain to take time to tell me about Imato personally and to feel foolish about all of my earlier worries.
Then there was a knock at the door. The page entered and handed Captain Stoddart a note.
“Pardon me, Lady Arri,” he said as he opened it.
As I watched his eyes scan down the contents of the paper, the room grew cold. He walked back to his desk and sat down, his eyes darting quickly to me and back again. I didn’t move. I don’t know how much time passed—much longer than was required to read the single sheet of paper. Finally, he looked up at me.
“Arri,” he began, and stopped.
He’d forgotten to use “Lady”. Terror shot through me.
He looked from me to the paper and back again. Finally, he pushed it across the desk in my direction.
I looked down at the paper.
It was a ransom note.
Offered for ransom was Imato.
In exchange for either Captain Quin Etautca or Ta’y.
I read the paper and read it again, much as the captain must have a few minutes earlier. Imato was being held at the Greste capital. He would not be harmed so long as they received what they wanted by the deadline in one month.
“I’m so sorry… I—” words failed him as I slid the paper back.
“How?” I asked.
“How?” he agreed, “How is it that the knight who only a few weeks ago created a Bellington ward could be taken hostage? Imato is nearly invincible. You know as much as I do about how this might have happened.”
I nodded, looking at the paper in his hands.
“What do we do?” I asked, “We don’t even know what Ta’y is.”
“Well, this confirms it is an object of some sort. We can only pray that the inquiry is successful.”
“Yes,” I said, “Do they know how Father is right now?”
“They must know,” answered the captain, “It’s well known in Rousha.”
We considered that.
“My guess,” said Captain Stoddart softly, “is that they believe he knows both what and where Ta’y is. They intend to get that information from him somehow.”
It made sense. Trena knew too, but she said I must heal Father. She saw what would happen if I didn’t, and it must have been terrible. What could it have been?
“Perhaps it isn’t a weapon,” I said softly, “Perhaps it’s something that will end this war.”
I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud. Captain Stoddart was watching me closely.
“Do you know something else, Lady Arri?” he asked.
“Nothing I haven’t told you. The Winged Lioness said I must heal my Father to prevent what is going to happen.”
But what if it already happened? What if the abduction of Imato was just what Trena was trying to prevent? I didn’t say this aloud.
The captain nodded, “I will inform the King of this matter. We will do everything in our power to bring your brother home. Lady Arri, if there is anything that you think should be done, let me know.”
I stood suddenly, “I need to leave. Please excuse me.”
It took forever to reach the stables and saddle Sprigs. He seemed to sense my hurry and broke into a gallop almost the moment I touched the saddle. I did not attempt to slow him.
In my mind the words repeated over and over: a solvent, a solvent, a solvent.
But first I must get my book of fairy stories.

“Trena!” I called the moment I reached the caves. Gretel was out shopping when I reached the house. I didn’t intend to run off without telling anyone, but I wasn’t going farther than the caves. Not today. I didn’t leave a note. Gretel would need this information delivered in person.
“Trena!” I ran out into the corridor.
“Arrietta?” she asked, emerging from a cavern.
“I need a solvent,” I said, breathless.
“What is that?”
“Something that will carry magic,” I explained, “a liquid to work in my spell.”
I held out the least crumpled of my spells before her, watching her eyes dart across the poor handwriting.
“Masterful,” she breathed, after a few minutes.
“Do you think it will work?” I asked.
“I don’t understand half of it,” she purred, “but yes, I believe it will.”
“I showed it to Master Ujifil the other day. He didn’t understand it either. I thought that meant I shouldn’t use it.”
“Did he say you shouldn’t?”
“He couldn’t tell. There’s no way to test it. Trena, what if it fails? Father could die. I could die.”
Trena looked behind herself.
A soft nicker, like a horse’s, startled me. I could see a shape in the corridor behind Trena, shadowed and facing away. It was somewhat taller than the Lioness and very thin. I had never seen another creature in the caves before. Hooves clicked against the stone. Fascinated, I fell silent.
The filly turned her head and I froze.
It was Moonstone, and yet not Moonstone. From her forehead, where the crescent moon shape once sat, grew a silver horn. A unicorn’s horn.
“Moonstone?” I asked, hesitant. She nickered and trotted up to me. I held out my hand and she put her nose under it.
“She remembers you,” purred Trena.
“But how…” my voice trailed off. How did not really matter.
“True sacrifice is a powerful spell. You can never be sure what form the spell will take, but it is good magic at its strongest. Moonstone was a willing part of that spell and this is the result.
I didn’t say anything. I wanted to put my arms around Moonstone, but I didn’t dare for awe of her. She was larger than when I last saw her, but still a foal, younger than the yearling she should have been.
“She grows more slowly now,” Trena continued to purr, “When Mendel took Glory to rescue you, I put Moonstone to a unicorn mare to nurse. I did not know what would happen.”
“She’s so beautiful.”
Trena chuckled, “You thought that before.”
“Yes,” I said absently.
“Now come,” said Trena, “You must finish preparing your spell.”
I followed Trena down the corridor of the cave. Moonstone trotted along behind us, tossing her black head playfully, silver horn sparkling with torchlight.
“Does she ever get to go above ground?” I asked.
“She lives above ground,” Trena informed me, “I called her here today for you.”
We walked along in silence for quite a ways, turning down corridors I didn’t recognize, passing from carved walls into natural caverns. Intaglios with stalactites and stalagmites flashed briefly into my memory and away. Hadn’t I wanted to see them? A trickling of water caught my ears.
“The fountain of wishes?” I asked, nervousness sweeping through me.
Trena did not answer.
When we reached the fountain Moonstone trotted forward and drank deeply, her foal’s tail flicking back and forth with enjoyment. I hung back.
It was not a manmade fountain, but a tumbling of water over rounded stone, smooth from the constant current. There were no torches in the room but it was lit from another source that I couldn’t see. The light was bright and clear, like daylight, though we must have been deep underground.
“In the end, Arrietta,” said Trena softly, “it is our desires that will reveal us most truly. I gave this water once to an old woman, whose greatest desire was to see love at its best. She’d lived a hard life and seen the worst of men’s hatred. She bottled the water in a little flask and took it with her. She was dying, but life was not her greatest desire. Then one cold night she curled up on the pavement, only to be woken by a stranger. He told her it was illegal to sleep on the street and directed her to the nearest poorhouse. In her illness and confusion she mistook his directions and landed on the doorstep of the King’s Captain, a man of greater importance than she had ever encountered. He did not turn her away but drew her in, seated her with his family, and served her the best his table could offer. He had a fine teenage son and beautiful daughter who did not shrink away from her rags but offered her the best seat in the house and worried about where she would go the next day. He had a darling three-year-old son who was, for reasons no one could determine, completely mute. Here was love at its best: a good and generous family. She wished to be a part of that love and goodness. So she gave the water to the toddler to drink, healing him of his trouble. It was enough. She had her wish. She left the house happier than she had been in all her life and died peacefully in the hospital the next day.
“Your desires, Arrietta, not long ago, created a unicorn. Surely the man who cared for a haggard old woman could do no less in his desires. Take the water, it is the solvent for your spell.”
There was hollowed stone bowl on a rock near the water. I filled it and took it to Moonstone, who touched the tip of her horn in the liquid. The water took on a silver sparkle and I filled a crystal flask with it.
“Did you see me when you saw the future? Did you see Imato or Father?”
“No,” said Trena, “I did not. Now go quickly.”

I had not been gone more than a couple of hours. Gretel was still out shopping. I was glad of that. Somehow I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to give myself an opportunity to think about the danger. I re-saddled Sprigs and directed him to the mental home, glad that Gordo had not ridden him hard that morning. I left a note that I was gone to visit Father, but said nothing of my purpose or the events of the morning.
I had the water in its crystal flask in my satchel and the piece of glass that the old healer fairy gave to Liop and me. I had a microscope borrowed without permission from the university laboratory—I hope they understand. Last I had Mother's fairy book. I took them to the mental home.
"I am here to cure my father," I said to Dr. Rascada when he greeted me. He blinked at me.
"So it is time at last," he said after a moment, "I thought this day was getting closer."
He held the door and admitted me. At his direction, two nurses helped move Father into an empty exam room. Dr. Rascada offered to stay with me, but I wanted to be alone.
As the door to the room shut behind me, I looked at my father. He was sleepy, having just woken up. I took the flask and breathed deeply, watching the water splash through the clear crystal. I took out the microscope and carefully prepared the piece of glass as though it were a specimen slide. It was rather large and awkward for such small work, but I managed to balance it beneath the lens. Spreading water from the flask onto the glass and reciting the first lines of my spell, I glanced at Father. He shifted restlessly, his eyes dark and haunted in his deeply scarred face. I tried to catch his eyes, to hold them with my gaze. He would not look at me long. I took the first swallow of water. What I want most is to heal my father, for the water to carry magic through the membrane of his brain cells and release them from the spell that held them captive. It was a spell hidden so well within the cell walls that ordinary magic could not even detect it. I had sensed it, however, in my efforts to see indirectly into the cells—indirectly, because individual cells do not respond to normal magic; rather, they respond to other things reacting to magic. And that is how healing works.
I knew what I wanted most. What did Father want most? I held out the flask to him:
"Drink," I said softly.
Father stiffened, one hand flew outward, cracking the wood panel of the wall next to him. I tried to keep my breathing steady, tried to get his eyes to look into mine. He stared instead at the cracked wall. I recited Mother's simple healing poem. Father turned and looked at me. Then suddenly, he lunged forward and snatched the flask from my hand. He swallowed the contents in a few gulps and then threw the flask against a wall. Shards of crystal flew in all directions. I felt a slight sting as one grazed across my eyebrow and another imbedded itself in my arm. Father's hand turned red with blood. I was afraid. I moved between Father and the microscope. Father clenched his bleeding hand into a fist and winced in pain as shards of crystal were driven deeper into it. He looked around wildly and his gaze fell on me. Our eyes met and he stilled.
Slowly I reached behind myself and removed the glass from under the microscope. I set my fairy book on the floor, but held out the glass.
"Read the book with the glass," I told him, holding the objects out.
Father took the glass with his uncut hand and knelt over the book. Gingerly, he opened the cover and then flipped to the final picture on the inside of the back cover. It was an illustration of our family: Father, Mother, Imato, and me as we had been the year mother gave me the book when I was eight. He held up the glass and looked through it at the picture. Nothing happened. Father didn't move, looking through the glass. I moved cautiously to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder.
The room began to spin, colors swirling around us, blending together. My head became dizzy and I fell forward.
Father caught me. He held me close for a moment and then set me carefully on my feet. Disoriented, I looked around. We were not in the hospital room anymore. We were in my parents' bedroom in the cape house in Dock-on-Green. Mother was sitting up in bed with a baby in her arms. She was smiling, tired, too ill to stand, and yet we did not know that we would lose her. I was wearing my favorite bright green dress. Fourteen-year-old Imato entered the room with a tray of chamomile tea and chocolate chip cookies. We all sat together around the bed to eat and drink. Together we laughed and shouted out suggestions for what to name the baby. Father shouted out the name "Squeaker", because this is the sound Liop made when he was born. He did not cry. Imato suggested the name "Puppy" since he was sure to follow everyone around before long. I suggested "Hungry." We took turns shouting out names, each one sillier than the next until we were all breathless with laughter. Then finally Mother told us his name was Liop after Father's grandfather and we all agreed it was perfect. Then we sat together watching Liop sleep.
I felt Father's arms around me and I turned to look into his eyes, into his young unblemished face. He smiled.
"Arri," he said, "is it you?"
The bedroom in Dock-on-Green fell away and we were standing in the hospital room once again. The sense of loss was overwhelming and I crumpled to the floor. When I woke up Father had me in his arms. We were seated on the floor of the empty room and he rocked me back and forth. Around his cut hand was a piece of linen torn from the cloth on the examination table. He had similarly bandaged my forehead and arm.
"Where am I?" he asked. His face was old and scarred. He looked frightened.
"You're in the mental home in Rousha," I said, "Father, do you know me?"
"I..." he shook his head and closed his eyes, "The mental home, Arri... How long have I been here?" His voice was rough from lack of use.
"A year and a half," I whispered.
He winced and put one hand to his head.
"Arri, I saw a young black unicorn, and an old fairy, and a hart..." he shook his head, "But the last thing I remember clearly is a battle. I was directing soldiers. We were doing well, I thought..."
"You were hit with a powerful spell," I supplied for him, "It penetrated into your brain cells and locked up your memories. You wandered away. We all... we all thought you were dead."
“How did you find me?”
“Uncle Winthrop found you,” I said, “and we brought you here.”
Father looked around again.
“Where am I again?”
“In Rousha.”
“Where are Imato and Liop?”
“Liop is with Uncle Winthrop,” I said.
Father was watching me closely.
“Imato?” he asked slowly.
I didn’t answer. It seemed too soon.
“Arri,” Father’s face became stern, but his eyes were frightened.
“He’s with the Grestians,” I said awkwardly, “They’re holding him for ransom.”
Father stood too quickly. He stumbled a bit.
“How long? What do they want?” he demanded.
“We only found out this morning,” I said quickly, rising to help him, “They want… Father, have you ever heard of Ta’y?”
Father froze.
“Yes,” he said.
“They want Ta’y,” I said, “or they want you to get it for them.”
“I see.” He sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
“What is Ta’y?” I asked.
“Technically, it was a sword, at least it was when the Grestians had possession of it.”
I didn’t understand.
“Arri, some years ago… You were a few years old, I think…” he put his head in his hands, “You were three. We were living in Marobury. There had been peace with the Grestians for nearly five years, rather suspicious peace. Then we caught wind of a battle with Yuglicov. My first impulse was to let them settle the matter themselves. The mountains of Yuglicov are thick and nearly impossible to navigate without a guide. You have to be born and raised there to learn to fight properly. Greste had no hope of breaking through.
“A few weeks passed. I kept a rotation of spies at our Yuglicov border. At first the reports were exactly what I expected. The Yuglivs, though outnumbered, fought like dragons. I did not worry. Then the tides changed. Impossibly, the Grestians began to make headway. It was disturbing.
“The King, his councilors, and I sat in council for several days. The people of Yuglicov are proud warriors, reclusive, unapproachable. They would rather die than accept help. However, we have been at peace since the Great War and to let them fall to Greste seemed wrong…
“If the Grestians were indeed winning against Yuglicov, than something very serious had changed. I hand-picked a regiment from the best knights from every division and led them to the southwest boundary.
“We pushed into the Yuglicov forest and joined the battle against Greste. You can imagine the reaction of the Yuglivs—hardly welcoming. They took our assistance as a declaration of war. We found ourselves battling on two fronts: the Grestians remained focused on Yuglicov, the Yuglivs divided themselves between Greste and Elcaro. I ordered my soldiers to retreat before Yuglicov and drive toward Greste as best they could. Only my best knights could have accomplished such a task. Like surgeons they cut away the Grestians from the Yuglivs. I wish I could say the Yuglivs were grateful.
“One question in my mind remained. How had the Grestians gained the advantage? What had changed? Sir Hanov Towery was our best magician-knight at the time. He had devised a spell that calculated the enemies’ strength in magical weapons. I pulled him aside to perform it. We soon learned the Grestians had more than twice the normal amount of magic about them. Focusing the spell allowed us to pinpoint a single source for almost all of the Grestian magic.
“We focused our attack in the direction of this source. We began with a hornet formation—”
Father stopped. He looked around.
“What time is it?” he asked.
The room being windowless, I didn’t know. I stepped out into the hall and learned that it was early afternoon.
“We still need a plan for Imato,” said Father.
“Yes, but what about Ta’y?”
Father jerked his head and sighed.
“This story is already longer than it should be,” he paused, “To be short we won the battle and among the weapons I captured was a sword. The Grestians called it Ta’y and it was a single, powerful source of magic. However, the core magic in Ta’y was not Grestian. It came from a stone set within the sword and nearly smothered with layers of Grestian spells. The stone was Yugliv. This is why it was so successful against them. Worried that such a powerful weapon should not be sent unaccompanied to the smelters, I brought Ta’y back to Marobury personally. It was a fascinating piece. We delayed destroying it, so the court magicians could have a chance to study it. Your mother was equally fascinated and spent long hours examining it.
“Eventually the time came to destroy it. We decided strip it layer by layer. Jesse coordinated the process. She first removed the Grestian layers of magic. Then she removed the stone from the sword. Worthless, the sword was sent to the smelters. The stone, however, was something else: its magic was not violent at all. It was, in fact, an ancient Yugliv healing stone. We decided not to destroy it. We gave it to your mother for her healing work.”
“Then where is it?” I asked, thinking of the bank vault and all the Etautca Estate which contained no magical stones.
“I don’t have it,” said Father, softly.
I waited.
“Among the winged lions is a young lioness named Nuicui,” he continued, “Her health is very delicate and for some years your mother had been helping to treat her. The stone proved invaluable in that treatment. When Jesse passed on… I gave the stone to Nuicui. She has it still, if I’m not mistaken.”
Stunned, I said nothing. Had the Winged Lioness known this all along? Why didn’t she tell me?
“Arri,” said Father, his eyes curious, “we need to talk to a winged lion…”
“I can call Banquo,” I answered his question.
“Who is that?”
“He’s the grandson of Noralt,” I responded.
“He must be very young,” murmured Father, “Very well, call him.”
“Here?” I asked, startled.
Father looked around.
“Where are we?” he asked again.
“In the mental home,” I reminded him, “Can’t we go to the house and call Banquo from there?” I shifted nervously, thinking about how much Father didn’t know yet and wondering what to tell him and in what order.
“Yes, of course,” said Father. He stood again. “Who’s house?”
“Imato’s,” I said slowly, thinking hard, “I live there too right now.”
“With Liop?”
“Liop lives with Uncle W.”
“Who?”
“Winthrop. We call him Uncle W.—for short?”
Father laughed.
“Anyway,” I said, “I’ll ask Dr. Rascada if we can borrow his horse. Sprigs doesn’t do well with two riders.”
“Instruct him that I’d like to keep my recovery quiet for a while. There may be some advantage in the Grestians not knowing about it just yet. I have to consider our plan.”
Dr. Rascada wanted to give Father a complete physical before releasing him from the mental home. Father submitted with some impatience, but I could see the relief when the doctor pronounced him in good, if not excellent health. He instructed him to be careful and not over-stress himself. It seemed impractical advice under the circumstances, but Father thanked him and promised to do just that. He explained about the need for secrecy. Dr. Rascada loaned us his long cloak and hat so that we could ride to Imato’s townhouse in relative secrecy. Father looked a little overdressed for the weather, but not extremely so for April. In all of this time, I thought about all of the things I should be telling him, but I didn’t say anything.
We slipped quietly out of the mental home and made our way across the back yard to the barn. We were three-quarters of the way there when Father stumbled a bit and took my arm.
“Dizzy,” he muttered, putting his bandaged hand to his forehead.
I led him to a bench outside the barn door and went in myself to get the horses. Sprigs came willingly enough, but Dr. Rascada’s plain brown mare was fidgety. She snapped at me as we came through the stable door. I released Sprigs to Father and slipped under her neck, bringing her more firmly under control.
Sprigs waited patiently while Father gathered up the reigns. He was watching me more than Sprigs.
“Arri,” Father paused. Carefully, he mounted Sprigs and waited for me to mount the mare.
“Arri,” he repeated, “you said I’ve been in the mental home a year and a half. How long, exactly, has it been since the battle where I lost my memory?”
“Well,” I delayed, “You were missing for some time, wandering in the mountains. Uncle W. found you—“
“How long?” he demanded.
“A little over five years,” I admitted, “Today is April 9th, 2005.”
Already pale, Father went whiter still. “Five years,” he repeated, “that would make you…” He frowned.
“Eighteen,” I supplied awkwardly.
“And Imato twenty-two and Liop eight. Liop… how is he?”
“He’s fine. The fairies didn’t get him.”
Father smiled, “That’s probably a good story. Let’s get to the house first though.”
“There’s one more thing I should tell you first,” I said quickly, “Imato’s married. His wife, Gretel, will be there.”
“Married,” Father repeated, shaking his head, eyes wide.
The mare tossed her head as I urged her into the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Father bring Sprigs in line behind me. His hazel eyes were still wide as a child’s.

We did not hurry the horses. I felt okay, but I could Father was still weak. I couldn’t help but watch nervously as we passed people in the streets, wondering if they would recognize Father, hoping they didn’t. No one paid us the slightest attention and Father kept the hat down and his face shadowed.
The yard was empty and we stabled Dr. Rascada’s mare but tied Sprigs outside. Reynard was in his stall, so I knew Gretel was home from shopping. I let us in through the back door. Normally Cook, Emily, or Cook’s daughter will come help me with my things when I arrive, but today the entry remained disturbingly empty. Father and I hung our hats and the cloak in the closet ourselves.
“Where is the butler?” Father asked.
“We don’t keep one,” I said.
Father didn’t say anything else as I led him upstairs to the sitting room. I was thinking that I ought to find Gretel myself and fill her in on the morning’s events when we came upon her suddenly in the hallway. She was turned away, a light target bow held at ready in her arms. She turned quickly when she heard us approach. I’ve never seen her look so intimidating, the bow lowering as recognition dawned, face lined with fear and worry.
“Sir Quin,” she gasped. Though lowered, she did not release her grip on the bow. I had the feeling she could still release an arrow at a target within seconds if she desired.
“Gretel,” I began, “I…” but words failed me. I looked up at Father. Surprise etched his features as he studied Gretel.
“Father,” I tried again awkwardly, “I’d like you to meet Gretel, Imato’s wife. Gretel, this is my Father, Quin… I healed him today.” I suppose the introduction was unnecessary. “Gretel, why are you carrying a bow?” I finished.
Gretel looked down at the bow in surprise. She dropped the arrow.
“What I need is an arbalest. Arri, Captain—“ her eyes went to Father, “Sir Stoddart,“ she corrected herself, “left here not half an hour ago. You’ve already heard his… news.” Her voice trembled, very near tears.
“Yes,” I admitted, “Father’s here now, and he knows what Ta’y is.”
“We’re forming a plan,” Father said, taking control of the situation with only his voice, “Imato will be rescued. Let’s go into the sitting room and talk about it.”
Gretel’s eyes shone. She turned and led the way to the sitting room. Once there, she closed the door behind us, locked it, and drew the curtains shut, turning up the lamps.
“What will we do?” she asked, looking at Father.
He was looking around himself distractedly.
“Arri, is the Etautca Estate intact?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“Good,” he said, “Gretel, do you have a current copy of the Military Registry?”
Gretel found it for him on a bookshelf.
“Now, you two,” said Father, “I need to do some studying, and Arri, you need to call Banquo. Can either of you perform an encryption spell?”
We both shook our heads.
“No matter,” he said, “I’ll just write cypher. In the meantime, Arri and I are quite starved: if you could ring the servants for a simple meal? Whatever they have handy.”
“I’ll prepare it,” said Gretel immediately. That caught my attention.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
Gretel frowned. “I sent them out,” she said.
“Cook, Leisle, and Emily?” I asked.
“Yes,” Gretel responded firmly, “Arri, have you heard the latest piece of information uncovered around noon?”
I shook my head.
“They found out who Mic’o is,” said Gretel, “Arri, it’s Claud White.” She was trembling.
Shock coursed through me.
“Who?” asked Father from his seat at the desk.
“Imato’s valet,” I supplied. Then, while Father searched the registry, I filled him in on the assassination attempt and the documents and the seven Sunem name glyphs.
“Be careful about jumping to conclusions,” said Father, “It’s just as naive to think all Grestians are evil as it is to think all Elcarans are good.”
“He kept his identity a secret,” said Gretel angrily.
“Would anyone have considered hiring him if he hadn’t?” asked Father.
Gretel folded her arms.
“You are right, of course. The fact that his name was mentioned in the document speaks heavily against him. He is probably a traitor,” Father admitted, “but let’s leave a little room for doubt. We don’t know the actual message or the context in which his name appears. Have you ever suspected Master White of anything before?”
“Nothing,” she admitted, “but he’s only been in our employ since last summer.”
Father nodded and continued studying the registry.
“He’s been exemplary in everything up until this,” Gretel continued thoughtfully.
“Then let’s hope he still is,” said Father, “but be careful at the same time.”
“He disappeared at the same time as Imato,” said Gretel.
“Very suspicious,” Father agreed.
Gretel took up her target bow and arrow and continued pacing. I excused myself to the kitchen. Once there I began with the calling spell for Banquo. I hadn’t ever used it before and wasn’t sure how long it would take him to respond. However, from Trena’s explanation I knew he would not appear instantaneously. I decided to prepare the sandwiches, my thoughts racing in useless circles. Gretel’s cook is not the most organized person (although her food is excellent), so it took me a few minutes to gather materials for the simple sandwiches. In that time it occurred to me that we needed. I put the food on a tray and returned as quickly as I could. Gretel was still pacing. Father was bent over his book.
“We need to send for Uncle W. and Nysa,” I said.
“Nysa?” Father’s head shot up.
“She left the fairy ring over a year ago,” I explained quickly, “and now she lives with Uncle W. and LIop.”
“Amazing… the number of times Jesse and Ellean tried to coax her out…” he shook his head.
“She came out to keep her promise to Mother, to watch over me,” I said.
“Amazing… yes, send for her.”
“I’ll go,” said Gretel.
“You stay here,” Father shook his head at her, “Where are the servants? Did you dismiss them?”
“No,” said Gretel, “I just… I don’t know who I can trust. I gave them the day off so I could think.”
“Arri, find a street child to carry a note to Winthrop and Nysa. They’ll come even if you don’t send a reason, won’t they?”
“Yes, they’ll come,” I said. I hurried out the front door and into the street. I had hardly passed the front when I came upon Emily, seated at the base of tree. She stood quickly at the sight of me and tried to straighten her skirts.
“Emily?” I asked.
“Is everything alright, milady?” asked Emily, her eyes worried, “The captain was here and Lady Gretel’s in a panic. She sent us all out, but we don’t know what we did to call for it.”
She shifted nervously, glancing at the house. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure what I could tell her.
“You haven’t done anything,” I said, “Gretel isn’t feeling well. Can you run a note to Lord Brio and Lady Nysa?” I handed over the note. Emily took it.
“Would you like a physician as well?” she asked.
“No, just deliver this note right away.”
She curtseyed and hurried off. I watched until she turned the corner. Emily and Master White worked closely together. Did she know anything? It was a disturbing idea and I pushed it away. The note contained no useful information.
Back in the house I found Father closing the military registry and pushing it away across the desk.
“How long has Imato’s division been deployed?” he asked.
“Since the end of January, Sir Quin,” said Gretel.
He cocked his head to one side and looked at her.
“May I ask what family you come from?” he asked.
“My father is Sir Queran Aoweir,” said Gretel immediately.
“Of course,” said Father, smiling.
Gretel raised her brows.
“Very few people continued to call me Sir Quin after my appointment to Captain,” Father explained softly, “Queran is one of them. I’m very pleased to have you for a daughter-in-law. Welcome to the family.”
For some reason Gretel burst into tears and threw her arms around him.
Father patted her back lightly. “How is your family?” he asked.
“Father’s division is stationed with Imato’s. I haven’t heard from him in over a week,” said Gretel. She pulled away from him, rubbing her face self-consciously, “If I don’t hear from him soon, I’m going up there.” Her eyes strayed to the target bow. We all looked at it, lightweight, flimsy, a lady’s hobby bow, or a child’s. Still, I imagined it could do some damage.
“There may be some cause for that,” Father agreed, “but wait until we have a formal plan.”
It seemed like a long wait for the knock on the door that announced Uncle W. and Nysa’s arrival. Father had switched from the military registry to reading the correspondence between Imato, Sir Aoweir, and Gretel. When I heard the knock, I leaped from my place to answer it.
“I healed my father!” I almost shouted as I opened the door, “He’s here and we’re going to rescue Imato from the Grestians.” I ushered them into the entry and helped Nysa with her cloak. I caught a glimpse of Emily standing by the gate, watching us as I closed the door.
“Arri, slow down. What was that?” asked Uncle W.
At that moment a lion roared from the kitchen.
“Banquo!” I gasped and darted from the entry without answering, leaving them to make their way to Gretel’s sitting room on their own.

We were all in the sitting room now: Father, Gretel, Uncle W., Nysa, Banquo, and me. It was not a large sitting room and with Banquo’s long figure, felt crowded. Father marched back and forth in front of us as though before a line of soldiers. Gretel clutched her bow in her hand and refused to sit, though we all would have liked her to. Father began with a repetition of the facts, reading the copy of the Grestian’s message from the copy Sir Stoddart gave to Gretel. Uncle W. stopped him at that point to ask what he knew about Ta’y. Father related the story of the battle with Yuglicov and Greste.
“The Grestians have never quite believed that we would destroy all their weapons,” Uncle W. grumbled, “You should have taken pains with such a dangerous weapon to make sure they understood it no longer existed.”
“One of the questions in my mind,” said Father, “is what they need it for. Surely they don’t expect us to turn over a powerful weapon that they can turn around and attack us with.”
Uncle Winthrop refused to credit them with that much logic. Father shook his head and turned to Banquo, who had been watching the two of them tensely.
“Banquo,” he began formally, “I would like to speak with the lioness Nuicui. Can you take me to her?”
Banquo shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.
“Can you deliver a message to her?” asked Father, looking surprised.
Again a shake of the head. Father frowned at him thoughfully.
“Do you know where Nuicui is?” he asked.
Banquo shook his dark head again, eyes troubled. He stood up and made a show of searching among the furniture.
“Missing?” Father asked in surprise, “How long?”
“Several weeks,” translated Uncle W., “Her parents have been looking for her since before Imato’s last battle. Banquo is also looking, though he hasn’t been looking as long. He’s very worried.”
Father was silent. We all waited, Banquo crouched restlessly, tail twitching.
“Quin,” said Uncle W., “I don’t see how a healing stone will be of any use in recovering Imato.”
“The Grestians believe that we can supply them with Ta’y,” said Father, “I don’t understand the situation entirely, but one thing I’m sure of is that they will not harm Imato so long as they think his presence encourages us to cooperate with their demands. I’d like to find Nuicui.”
Banquo gave a small growl.
“I respect that,” said Father without waiting for Uncle W. to translate, “I have no intention of taking the stone from her. You say she’s left the canyon?”
“Yes,” translated Uncle W., “It’s not something she’s ever done before.”
“I will help you in your quest, Banquo,” said Father, “No harm will come to Nuicui if it’s in my power to prevent it.”
Banquo inclined his head gratefully.
“There’s a need for delicacy on this quest,” Father continued, “the fewer people the better.” He looked at each of us in turn.
Banquo said something.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Uncle W. responded without translating.
The lion growled. Father frowned.
“I’d like to hear what he said.”
“Quin, the Grestians are taking advantage of your family to catch your attention. The last thing you want to do is put more of them at risk.”
Banquo stood, his tail lashing, growling at Uncle W.
Father took a deep breath. “Winthrop, I value the opinion of everyone in this room. I will hear every suggestion and then will decide what is best.”
“This is a family concern,” Uncle Winthrop countered, “You and I should travel to Greste…”
Banquo growled at him and he stopped. Nysa’s large eyes moved between the two of them. She had yet to speak a single word in Father’s presence.
“Imato is a knight of Elcaro and I am his Captain,” Father said, “My authority also extends to civilians as it relates to foreign affairs. You are out of line, Winthrop.”
Uncle W. folded his arms.
“Exactly as I remember you,” he mumbled softly. I don’t think Father heard this, but I did. The tension in the room mounted.
“Winthrop, please,” said Father, putting his good hand to his head, “You might find we’re in perfect agreement with what has to be done.”
Uncle W. looked skeptical.
“Banquo,” he said reluctantly, “suggests a quest involving you, him, and Arri. He would like Arri to examine Nuicui. In my opinion, Nuicui, once found, can be brought here for Arri’s examination.”
“I see,” said Father, “bear in mind, Winthrop, that I am Arri’s father.”
Uncle Winthrop seemed ready for an argument, but Father did not give it to him.
“Another skill we are in need of is tracking,” he continued, looking at each of us.
“I recommend Mendel for that task,” Nysa spoke up for the first time, her voice barely crossing the room.
“Mendel Westridge, son of Perris Westridge?” he asked.
“You know him?” Uncle W., Nysa, and I asked almost in unison.
Father was looking at Nysa, “I know of him, through you.”
Nysa went very red and hid her face with her hair. “I told you?” she asked.
“You won’t remember it, but I visited you with Jesse on several occasions. You often spoke of Mendel. We took the trouble to learn his exact identity, although given his family it seemed unwise to contact him. Is young Master Westridge here in Rousha?”
“He’s attending the university,” I volunteered.
“Would he be willing to join a quest? I will offer appropriate compensation, of course.”
“I’m sure he’d be delighted. I can ask him tonight,” I said.
Father looked at me surprise.
“I’ll take that into consideration then. Are there any other suggestions?” He looked around at all of us.
“Banquo seconds the recommendation of Mendel,” translated Uncle W., “He has been valuable in the past. I recommend myself.”
Father studied Uncle W.
“What would you like to do?” he asked.
“I spent years in the northern mountains and know them well. I can translate between you and Banquo. Also,” he hesitated, “my knowledge of magical theory is extensive.”
“To be sure,” said Father skeptically, “but what about practice?”
Uncle W. took a deep breath.
“I am practicing again.”
Father looked genuinely surprised.
“Good to hear,” he smiled, “you are right then about your skills being invaluable.”
“Anyone else?” he asked.
“I’m going,” said Gretel at the same time the Nysa said, “I volunteer.”
Father turned to Gretel first, “You, of all people in this room, have the most reason to go, and the most to stay.” Gretel put a hand unconsciously to her belly.
“I can’t use magic,” she admitted, “but not everyone will need magic on this quest.”
Father nodded respectfully. “Including me,” he said.
“Nysa,” he asked, “tell me why you want to come.”
“I am at least as magical as Winthrop,” she darted a look at him, face still red behind her hair, “I am not to be trifled with.” She said firmly.
Father looked at me.
“Arri?”
“I want to go,” I said simply, “I don’t know what I can do.”
He nodded. “Gretel, is there a room where I can have privacy to deliberate?” he asked.

Gretel showed him to my bedroom. Then we all waited tensely, watching evening approach, as he deliberated. Uncle Winthrop, Gretel, and Banquo got in each other’s way as they paced the floor. I went to the kitchen and prepared more sandwiches, though my stomach turned at the thought of eating one.
“Only your father,” said Uncle W. irritably, “could return from five years of memory loss and still assume he is in charge of everything.”
“That’s why King Trunsle made him Captain,” I responded.
Over an hour passed before Father reappeared. He looked pale and tired, eyes bloodshot with stress. He looked us all over carefully. I felt like we should be standing at attention.
“I’m only going assign tasks for the first part of this operation,” he said softly, “because too much depends on its outcome to determine the next step.”
He turned to Gretel and handed her a sealed envelope.
“Gretel,” he said, “your task is to track down Sir Alonzo Raporty. He is retired and probably living in Rousha. Wherever he is, I would like this message hand-delivered by you. Tell him you are Imato’s wife. Mind that you don’t tell him more than you think is necessary. He is not the most discrete of individuals. However, being Grestian by birth, he is the most likely translator for those documents.”
“Then why hasn’t the King tried him yet?” asked Uncle W.
“He was very nearly court-marshaled on several occasions. The king does not think highly of him.”
“Can we trust him?” demanded Gretel.
“For this task, yes,” said Father, “He’s no friend of Greste. Feel free to offer any amount of the Etautca Estate you feel is necessary to get his cooperation. Nysa, I’d like you to accompany Gretel.”
Gretel frowned as she looked at the envelope, but she didn’t protest. Nysa simply nodded.
“Winthrop,” Father continued, “I’d like you to prepare a cloaking spell.”
“Those take over a week to prepare,” said Uncle W., “Can we wait that long?”
“Can you do it?” asked Father, ignoring the question.
“I’ve never used it before,” he admitted, “but, yes, I know a spell for a cloak that will last several hours if needed.”
“Good. I believe we may need it once we cross into Greste.”
Uncle Winthrop grunted in agreement, but he did not look pleased.
Father turned to Banquo.
“The one time I met Nuicui,” he said softly, “she was too shy to more than greet me. Even Jesse rarely heard her speak during their treatments. I think the fewer people we have on this part of the quest the better.”
Banquo nodded.
“In that light, I believe your recommendation of Mendel Westridge and Arri is very appropriate. I would like to leave at first light tomorrow morning, if Master Westridge is obliging.”
Father looked at me.
“Are you okay with this, Arri?” he asked.
“I’ve been on quests before,” I volunteered.
Father looked at me curiously.
“I’d like to hear about them,” he said, “I imagine we’ll have time during the quest. Now, I’d like you or Nysa to go to the university and enlist the help of Master Westridge.”
“I’ll go,” I said, “but aren’t you going to come too?”
Father shook his head. “I,” he informed me, “have another son, and I would like very much to see him.”
“I’ll take you,” said Uncle Winthrop, “Really, I’m surprised he hasn’t come pounding on the door yet.”

The dormitory butler frowned at me. He did not let me in, because it is against university policy to allow ladies to visit young men they are not related to in their dormitories. I was exhausted, feeling like I had been awake for a week rather than a single day. I did not want to argue about propriety with a butler.
“Tell him to come outside,” I said, trying to think of a good reason for the request besides the truth.
“It’s after dark, Miss.”
“I know,” I said. Then, because he looked like he was going to shut the door on me, I put my foot in his way.
He sighed and walked off to the staircase, muttering about impropriety of modern ladies. I waited in the entry. I’m sure Mendel came down the three flights of stairs in a third the time it took the butler to climb them.
“What’s wrong, Arri?” he demanded. I had never visited the dormitory before.
I motioned him outside and we walked under a nearby tree. As quickly as possible I explained the events of the day. Mendel’s blue eyes were wide.
“Arri!” he crowed, “Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve restored the Captain of Elcaro. The whole kingdom will be at your service.”
“I healed my father,” I responded, irritated.
“Yes,” said Mendel, seriously, smiling, “you won’t be so lost anymore.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. I moved on to more important subject of the quest.
“Can you come?” I asked.
“Can I bring Lexie?” asked Mendel, “This is brilliant! I can work on her training. Just a moment—“ He darted back into the dormitory.
I waited. He was back in a few minutes, careering down the steps so quickly I was afraid he would stumble. In his hand was a small leather pouch. At his side, the rapidly growing Lexie bounded.
“Where’s Lorenzo?” I asked.
“His services are not required on weekends,” Mendel informed me.
He reached into the pouch and removed several leaves. Reciting a spell, he crumpled them and tossed them into the air. To my eyes they drifted aimlessly in the still air. Mendel watching them closely. Lexie whined and sniffed at each leaf as it hit the ground. She picked up one of the largest fragments in her mouth.
“Brilliant,” Mendel breathed in surprise, “she’s nearby.” He put one hand on Lexie’s head and turned it in a southwest direction. “That way, girl. Memorize it.” Lexie barked and squirmed, dropping the leaf.
“Nearby?” I asked.
Mendel nodded. “Less than a day’s journey, I bet. We might not even miss any class.”
I looked in the direction Mendel had pointed Lexie.
“Arri,” continued Mendel, “I assume you’re taking Sprigs, but what about your Father? Reynard?”
I hadn’t considered that yet.
“Gretel will need Reynard,” I said, slowly.
“Good. Offer Asus to Captain Etautca. It will save the trouble of getting one from the army stables without explaining yourself.”
“Thank you, Mendel,” I said.
Mendel smiled happily.
From Mendel’s apartment, I took Sprigs as fast as I dared to Uncle Winthrop’s apartment. As I let myself in the door, I heard laughter. Father was sitting with Liop on the couch listening to an enthusiastic description of everything he and Keaton saw and did at the museum with you in Adya. Liop was switched into Grestian from time-to-time, apparently delighted with Father’s ability to understand him. I stood in the doorway, waiting for them to notice me.
“Arri,” shouted Liop after a few minutes, “Did you know Father speaks Grestian, and he’s been Iconei when he was a teenager!”
“On an exchange program for squires,” said Father, sounding amused.
“Did you tell him about the fairies?” I asked, amused.
“That was last year,” said Liop dismissively, “I haven’t told him about the chickens yet!”
“Where are Uncle W. and Nysa?” I asked.
“They’re with Gretel,” said Father, “I think they’ll be back soon though.”
I grabbed paper and ink, although trying to write you with Father and Liop in the room was very distracting.
“Tomorrow,” began Liop eagerly, “I’ll take you to Uncle W.’s laboratory. You should see the fireworks!”
“Liop,” Father interrupted, and I was surprised to hear his voice catch, “your brother Imato is in trouble and I have to help him tomorrow.”
Liop went very still. So did I.
“Was there a battle?” he asked.
“No,” said Father, “but the Grestians have him at their capital and I must go free him.”
“He was captured?”
“Yes.”
“What will they do with him?”
“Nothing, Liop. They’re waiting for me to come get him.”
“I’ll come too!”
“No, Liop,” said Father, “you can’t.”
Liop stared. Silent tears started in the corners of his eyes and steaked downward. “Please don’t leave me,” he said, “I don’t want to be left alone.”
Father put his arms around him. For a few minutes there was silence. Father looked at me. Our eyes were no drier than Liop’s.
“Winthrop is right, Arri,” said Father softly, “This is a family concern.” He put his face up to Liop’s.
“We won’t leave you,” he promised.

I’ve been writing so long that my hand is sore and it is very late. This must be the longest letter I’ve ever written. It surprised me that when they heard Liop was coming with us, Uncle W. and Nysa said nothing. They did not demand to come too. Father and I returned to Gretel’s house for bed. Gretel told us that Emily was staying with Cook’s family for the time being, until Gretel and Nysa return from delivering the message. At dawn tomorrow morning we will all meet on the southwest edge of town. Father, Mendel, Banquo, Liop, and I will leave to find Nuicui. Gretel and Nysa will leave to find Sir Raporty. Uncle W. will begin preparing the cloaking spell.
I have to go to bed now, though I hardly know how to sleep. This letter will have to be lightened and divided between Hermes and Clotho. I am exhausted, Keish, but not at all sleepy.
I have my father back.

Love,
Arri

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Stacia and Tish at Caden's Ball

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 13:30:00 +0000

Stacia's Dress-- the starting point. In fact, the dress had FAR more flowers. And was poofier.

Tish's Dress

(Damsel in this Dress)

Keish- March 19, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

March 19, 2005
Dear Arri,
Malia and I spent the morning outside, planning my new garden.
My garden, of course, is still at the base of the old tower, and while that is very close, it’s also very small and somewhat inconvenient. Besides, a new councilor and his wife are moving into the old tower next week.
And the poor garden never recovered from the incident with the fairy queen last summer.
So we’ve turned our attention to the spot of ground on the west of the new tower.
A couple of palace groundskeepers listened attentively as Malia laid out where Aron’s new pond would be and explained the raised beds she wanted for some of the plants, the notes she took in Castlegard last year finally bearing fruit (no pun intended).
They seemed impressed and got right to work.
Malia and I spent the rest of the time sketching out beds and paths and deciding which plants would do best where.
Well, mostly Malia decided. She has been doing a lot of research about such things. And I’m still recovering from that party of Caden’s Thursday night. It’s a wonder I was any help at all.
More likely I wasn’t and Malia was just humoring me.

Caden showed up as we were finishing lunch.
“Now, you know you’re always welcome here,” I said, “but shouldn’t you be overseeing the final details of your ball? Terrorizing servants? Something?”
He sighed. “Mother sent me away. Apparently I was interfering with her ability to terrorize the servants.”
Jace laughed. “Well you’d hate to spoil her fun.”
Caden rolled his eyes at that. “Something like that. Actually, I thought I’d come see how Keaton was faring without his partner in crime.”
I sighed. “He’s moping a bit. And being very studious. I don’t think Master Zart quite knows what to make of it. I think he’s in his study.”
“I’ll find him. Maybe I can help him finish that proposal about chickens. That should cheer him up, right?”
“I suppose, though I’m not sure what the thought of chickens does for my mood,” I muttered as Caden left.
Jace just laughed.

I’m writing in my dressing room, very carefully. Malia and I have an agreement-- I can continue to write so long as my head does not move.
She’s having her way with my unruly hair (made more unruly by a brisk gallop on Argentum this afternoon) and pinning it into some sort of ridiculously intricate knot.
“Your dress calls for something extravagant, Mistress,” she says, reading over my shoulder. “Lord Caden will be entirely put out if you don’t make a very grand impression.”
I did the only thing I could to in response to such a statement-- I stuck my tongue out at her.
“I don’t think Lord Jace will object either,” she added with a mischievous grin.
I suppose I have to concede that point.
Now that she’s pinning my hat into place, though, I shall have to set this aside. It will likely be far too late to return to it tonight, but I promise you a full account of the ball tomorrow.

March 20th
I exited my dressing room just as Jace was coming out of his. As always, seeing him in his full court attire made my breath catch.
He stopped in his tracks. Apparently Malia was right about my hair.
I turned slowly for his inspection. “Will it do, do you think?” I asked lightly.
In just two steps, Jace took both my hands in his, kissing the palm of each before holding them against his chest. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
I leaned against him for a moment, content.
After a few minutes, Jace leaned towards my vanity, reaching for my mirror necklace while keeping both of my hands in one of his.
“It needs just one more thing, my lady,” he whispered, moving behind me to fasten the necklace. He kissed my neck after settling the necklace. “Perfect.”
And then it was time to go.

Caden was certainly setting the tone for the whole season with his formal extravaganza. Which was, of course, his intention.
His ball was held in the palace grand ballroom, with the chief palace butler formally announcing each guest as they arrived.
Jace and I stood at the top of the stairs and waited. As the butler began announcing us, heads turned below us and we were greeted with a torrent of whispering that ran the full length and breadth of the grand room.
Jace took my hand with a grin and we plunged in.

We danced and chatted-- most people are still fairly cool to us, but they’re polite at least and several were even friendly. We caught glimpses of Caden here and there, mingling, dancing and generally being a splendid and cheerful host.
At one point he caught my eye and sent me a pained look over Stacia’s head. Caden is smaller than Jace-- he’s shorter and where Jace is lean and wiry, Caden is mostly just thin-- but Stacia looked like a tiny doll as they danced.
Her dress was painfully overdone. I think it possibly weighed as much as she does. I sent Malia to Annette this morning for a sketch of it, which I’m including, but the sketch was only the starting point. Stacia’s train was longer and there were far more flowers.
We spun and Jace caught sight of Caden and Stacia. He made a face. “That girl has no concept of understated elegance.”
I couldn’t disagree, though I’m sure my bold dress was also drawing plenty of comments.
The song ended and Jace and I drifted over to one of the many refreshment tables. Jace moved closer to get me a glass of punch while I watched couples line up for the next dance, which was a country dance.
“Well I hope you’re happy,” Lady Aoweir said abruptly.
“I beg your pardon?” I replied, startled to find her standing before me.
“Bad enough that my only daughter allied herself with an Elcaran but now to have my first grandchild born in Rousha? And I suppose that… family of yours will probably have a heavy share in raising it!” She shook her head in disgust. “Fairies and mad scientists… it’s terrible just thinking about it.”
“You know, Lady Aoweir, I do find something terrible about the situation,” I interrupted after a few more moments of such disparaging comments. “I think it’s terrible that Gretel’s child will never know a grandmother’s love.”
With that I walked away, leaving her sputtering angrily.
“Wow,” Jace said softly when we were out of earshot.
I sighed. “I know. I’ll have to write a note of apology. To Gretel, I mean.”
I was distracted by the butler announcing Tish.
Clearly I was not the only one that was going to cause a stir.
Tish’s bodice was similar to mine, which made sense-- I heard her telling Taty and Nysa that it’s a more common style in Iconei-- and the ruffled collar was stunning against her short hair. Her skirt was slightly short by Arellan standards and doubtless would be the source of much commentary throughout the night.
I thought she looked amazing in the simple Arellan gown she wore Thursday (which I learned later Gretel had given her). This was above and beyond.
Caden appeared almost immediately and led her out for the next waltz.
A little while later, I saw Caden approach us out of the corner of my eye. “Have I made enough of a stir?” I asked as we turned toward him.
He laughed. “You’ve got all of the younger women clamoring jealously for a similar dress and most of the older women shocked. Though I suspect several of them are also jealous. Between that and giving Lady Aoweir an incredible set down, I’d say you’ve nearly been labeled a menace to society.”
Jace chuckled at that.
I pouted. “Only nearly? And I was trying so hard.”
“Well,” Caden responded, holding out his hand, “I rather imagine that if you grant me the boon of a dance my mother would be willing to upgrade your status.”
Jace grinned and gave me a gentle push. “You can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be right here.”
I let Caden lead me onto the dance floor as a stately waltz began.
“Lady Aoweir deserved it,” I explained.
“Oh I’m certain she did.”
We danced in silence for several beats before I asked Caden, “Shall I act hostile, or is this the beginning of a reconciliation?”
He grinned. “Oh I think we can manage civility at the very least. Besides, I think we’ve reached the end of the usefulness of this charade. There’s certainly plenty of gossip about you tonight, but it’s not the sort that I wouldn’t hear as your friend.”
“I imagine there will be plenty of gossip about Tish also,” I said.
He quirked an eyebrow. “There would have been anyway. This is the first major social event she’s attended.”
“You must be flattered.”
Caden just smiled.
We executed an artful turn and I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Stacia Pastile was dancing with Jace.
Caden followed my gaze and gave a low whistle. Stacia turned just then and glared daggers in our direction.
“Was that murderous look for you or for me, do you think?”
Caden shrugged a little. “She’s dancing with your husband.”
“Yes, and as far as she’s concerned I may as well be dancing with hers.”
He winced at that, looking back toward Jace and Stacia. I thought she’d looked tiny dancing with Caden. Jace dwarfed her. He didn’t quite dwarf that monstrous dress though.
“Whoever does end up marrying her is going to have his hands full,” Caden said finally. “I can’t imagine it was Jace’s idea that they dance.”
I snorted.
“Jealous?” he asked teasingly.
“Sympathetic,” I corrected. “Though from the way Euan is looking at me I may soon be empathetic,” I muttered, spotting Euan across the dance floor.
“Want me to head him off?”
“You’re always welcome to try. Where’s Vanessa?”
“Didn’t come. She wasn’t feeling quite the thing today, apparently. Euan‘s here alone.”
I grimaced. “That’s like letting an obnoxious animal off it’s leash and setting it on an unsuspecting public.”
Caden’s laugh was loud enough to turn heads.
I gave a wry smile. “Well, any hope of acting hostile is certainly past.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Caden said, breathless from laughing.
The dance ended and Caden delivered me back to Jace, who’d managed to extricate himself from Stacia.
The clock struck 10 and Caden’s face lit up. “Time for fireworks!” he declared, moving away from us.
Uncle W.’s fireworks worked their usual magic, of course, both literally and figuratively. The rest of the court will be hard-pressed to match the display Caden had arranged, though I’m sure several people will try. Uncle W. will be swamped.
When everyone finally made their way back inside and the music started again, Jace and I drifted from group to group, keeping an eye out for Caden, especially as it got closer and closer to midnight.
He finally found us as the clock was striking half past 11.
“Well, what do you think?”
Jace smiled. “You’ve set a high standard. It should make for an interesting season.”
Caden’s mother came up to him while we were talking. “Caden, dear, what are you doing?” she asked brightly. Neither her tone nor her smile could hide the distress in her eyes-- due, I’m sure, to finding Caden talking to such undesirables as us.
Caden is a much better actor. He was all innocence as he replied, “It’s a ball, Mother. I’m being polite to my guests.”
Her gaze flicked to us before settling back on her youngest son. “Yes, well. It’s nearing midnight, are you ready to make you announcement?”
Caden barely stifled a sigh. “There’s not going to be an announcement tonight.”
Lady Viteri’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh? Well if you aren’t prepared to make your own announcement I can certainly do it for you.”
Caden’s smile was tight. “You aren’t listening, Mother. There is not going to be an announcement made at all. Not by me, not by you.”
His mother touched his arm. “Now, Caden, our agreement was…”
He cut her off. “We didn’t have an agreement, Mother. You gave me an ultimatum, but I am not going play along.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Caden Viteri if you cross me…” she let the threat hang in the air.
“You’ll cut off my allowance?” Caden asked with a wry grin that didn‘t reach his eyes. “This morning my new solicitor took care of the paperwork required for the money settled on me and this evening my new valet packed my belongings and had them moved to my new residence. So by all means, Mother, do whatever you feel is necessary.”
And with that, Caden strode purposefully out of his own ball.
It was all I could do not to applaud.
Lady Viteri glared at Jace and me, trying to find a way to blame us, I‘m sure, then turned on her heel and stalked away.
“Should we follow him?” Jace asked quietly.
I shook my head. “Too suspicious. Besides, I want to see what Lady Viteri does. Everyone is expecting an announcement.”
Jace nodded.
Unfortunately that was when Euan found me. Having left, Caden couldn’t head him off.
“Keish,” he said, holding out a hand as if it were a command rather than an invitation.
I looked at Jace, who seemed to be trying not to laugh as Euan ignored him.
I scowled slightly at him and let Euan lead me onto the floor.
I’d forgotten what an entirely unimaginative dancer Euan is. I caught sight of Jace dancing with Tish-- they were certainly enjoying themselves more than I was.
Thankfully it was a short waltz. I gave Euan the barest of all curtseys and found Jace and Tish on my own rather than letting him escort me. Petulant, maybe, but one short dance was quite enough of his company for one evening. I won’t bore you with a description of his inane conversation.
As midnight came and went, whispering swept through the ballroom.
Finally, nearing one o’clock, Caden’s oldest brother thanked everyone for coming-- very graciously ending the affair without addressing the subject everyone was talking about. Caden’s parents were no where in evidence. Neither were Stacia Pastile and her brother.
Jace and I started back for the tower quickly, ducking outside through the back courtyard to avoid the crowds.
“How long do you think it took people to realize Caden had actually left?” I asked.
Jace laughed a little. “I don’t know. Do you suppose his mother realized why he insisted on the fireworks being early?”
I snorted. “I don’t have much faith in Lady Viteri’s powers of observation.”
As we reached the rear entrance, someone stepped out of the shadows.
“Lurking in the shadows is a bit dramatic, even for you, don‘t you think?” Jace asked Caden good-naturedly as he followed us up the steps.
“I didn’t know what to tell Brooksby. What I told my mother was a bit of a bluff, I’m afraid. Alexander brought all of my things here to one of your box rooms. I don’t suppose that offer of my always being welcome extends to the use of one of your extra rooms for a few nights?” Caden asked.
Brooksby greeted us before either of us could answer. “My Lord, My Lady. I do hope your evening was enjoyable.”
“Interesting may be the more appropriate appellation,” Jace told him.
“Very good sir,” Brooksby replied. “Lord Caden, your room is ready-- I believe you will find Alexander waiting there for you.”
Caden gaped at Brooksby’s back as the man walked away.
Jace laughed. “You didn’t think this outcome had occurred to us?”
We started up the stairs. When we reached the landing I pointed. “Jace’s old room, right next to his study. We left orders for it to be readied and for Alexander to put your things there rather than the box room. You can also have Imato’s half of the study. You’re welcome here as long as you please.”

By the time Malia unpinned my hair and got me out of my dress, it was 2 and I didn’t sleep nearly as long as I’d have liked this morning, so now that I’ve faithfully recorded all relevant details, I think I’ll take a nap.

March 21st
Is the first day of a new term as exhilarating and yet simultaneously exhausting for you as it is for me, Arri? Things are fresh and new and exciting, and yet there are mountains to climb. Just thinking about the upcoming work makes me tired.
Not to mention the piles of finals I have to grade.
But at the same time there’s an energy the first week that I can never seem to recapture later in the term.
To top it all off, Keaton finished his proposal about the chickens and presented it to us this evening.
I must say, he was very thorough.
He measured an area to the side of the new garden, determined how many chickens he could keep in such a space (four), and found someone to help him draw up plans for a simple chicken coop.
He even ferreted out a spell to keep the chicks warm in their brooder and another to get rid of any unpleasant smells coming from the coop.
He would like to raise Araucanas, which have odd-looking tufts on the sides of their faces and lay eggs in all different colors. He finds them entertaining. Apparently the males grow to be about five pounds while the females are four. The have what are called “pea combs” and, as I said, lay tinted eggs. The chicks come in all colors, as do the adults. They are a unique breed, but easy enough to obtain.
Keaton has also found someone to help him build both brooder and coop and insists upon buying materials out of his allowance.
What could we do but agree?
As a thrilled Keaton ran off to find Caden and tell him the news, Jace sighed. “At least they don’t fly,” he muttered.
I gave him a questioning look.
He grimaced. “When I was seven I decided I wanted a closer look as Mother’s birds. I opened the cage and they rushed out at me, chasing me around the room and pecking at my head when they got me into a corner. The maid had to rescue me,” he explained.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It certainly explained why he kept his distance from his mother’s birds when we were in Rousha.

March 23rd
Somehow I thought having Caden in residence would make our routines different, but he spent so much time here before, and he’s refusing to let anyone know where he’s staying, so little has changed.
I sat in on his lesson exchange with Tish today. He’s very good. I may have to offer him a position. We could use someone who can teach writing better than I.
His social calendar hasn’t changed, though I’m no longer telling him whom to take to what event. I think he’s determined to be seen and be seen alone.
And since his uncle is still expecting him to gather information, attending every event is necessary.
Since Caden has always enjoyed society more than Jace or I, this suits him fine.

March 24th
Apparently “running away from home”, as Caden puts it, has had unintended benefits. Or effects at any rate.
Last night he attended a card party hosted by Sir Tor Epte, a minor knight. Jace and I know him, but not well. I imagine Gretel or Imato may know him better. Jace and I did not receive an invitation, but we’d have turned it down anyway.
As the footman handed Caden his coat at the end of the evening, he surreptitiously slipped Caden a note as well.
“I don’t think…” Caden began, but broke off as he saw the symbol on the folded paper. He looked at the footman, who nodded sharply and turned away before Caden could say anything else.
Swiftly returning to the tower (through the servants’ corridors as always), Caden came looking for Jace and me. He found us in our sitting room.
“I hope you’re decent,” he said as he tapped on the door and let himself in.
“You could always wait to be asked in,” Jace replied dryly.
“He’s saving that for a special occasion,” I retorted.
“Actually, I just thought this merited the intrusion,” Caden said, holding the note out to Jace.
Jace took it with a low whistle. “Where on earth…”
Caden explained how he’d received it.
“But isn’t that…” I began.
“A Sunem name glyph,” Caden finished heavily.
Jace had grabbed a book off a side table and was studying something. “It’s a rough approximation of your name,” he said quietly after a few moments.
We sat in stunned silence for several minutes. I didn’t like the implications.
“What does the note say?” I finally asked quietly.
“It gives the details of a meeting. An invitation, I suppose. Saturday evening. Late.”
“This could be what the king has been waiting for,” Jace said. “Are you going to attend?”
Caden gave us a small smile. “How can I refuse?”
I enchanted Caden’s note to the king and this morning he received a reply instructing him to attend and report the next morning, but to be cautious. Not that Caden needed to be told that.

March 25th
“Lord Viteri requests an audience with you, My Lady,” Brooksby intoned from the doorway.
I looked up from the finals spread across the library table. “And since when does Caden do anything so formally?” I asked with a laugh.
“I’m sorry, My Lady, I should have been more precise. It is, in fact, Lord Macario Viteri who wishes to speak with you.”
“I see,” I said slowly. “Well, show him up then.”
Caden’s oldest brother, with the same sandy hair and gray eyes, gives one an immediate idea of what Caden himself will look like in nine or ten years. His grin belied his deep, precise bow and proved that they share charm as well as looks. “Lady Pren, thank you for agreeing to see me. I’m sure you understand why I’ve come.”
“No, I’m afraid your visit is rather a surprise,” I said, indicating a chair.
He remained standing and grew more serious. “An interesting thing happened today,” he began after a moment. “A piece of correspondence, a report, was delivered to the Crown Prince by mistake. Neither he nor I could make any sense of it and naturally His Highness and I took it to the king straight away. His Majesty thanked us and read the missive without the slightest difficulty, saying only that it was from a private source and enchanted so that only he himself could read it,” Macario gave me a piercing look.
I didn’t even blink. “That certainly seems like a reasonable way to deliver sensitive information.”
He nodded slightly. “Indeed. It’s strange, though. I’ve never known the King’s Couriers to make that kind of mistake. The crown prince demanded an explanation, insisting that the king could no longer continue protecting this source, that protecting the source’s identity should never have extended to keeping such information from the kingdom’s heir to begin with. Prince Alec was very forceful and with a small laugh King Menion agreed. I turned to leave but my uncle insisted that I stay and hear what he had to say.” He paused, studying me. “His Majesty then told us a very interesting story about asking a young noblewoman to gather gossip and information-- effectively to spy on the upper classes of Adya.”
He stopped again, waiting for a response. “What an interesting task,” I replied finally.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. “She declined, however, telling him that he needed someone who is not only always invited, but always expected; intelligent enough to gather the information but not taken so seriously that he’d ever be suspected. Someone who’s reputation is entirely unexceptional. And then she gave King Menion a name.”
I returned his stare calmly. “And did His Majesty follow her recommendation?”
Macario let out an exasperated sigh. “Enough games, my lady, you know full well he did. And when His Majesty said that my brother, of all people, was the closely guarded source… everything made sense. His Majesty’s reaction to that rather scandalous display in the courtyard, for example. After watching the entire scene from a window His Majesty seemed amused. Now I know why.” He fell silent, eyes down, lost in his own thoughts.
“Why is it you’re here, Lord Viteri?” I asked softly after several moments.
He smiled, looking up at me again. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking you remind me of someone.” he shook his head slightly. “I am here, my lady, because I know that you can give my brother a message. He is still seen at all of the major social events, I know, but he won’t speak with any of us. I hoped you would tell him that I’d like to speak with him.”
“Who do I remind you of?” I asked rather than responding to his request.
He pressed his lips together. Then, taking a deep breath, he replied, “You remind me of my sister Cambria, my lady.”
“How very interesting.” I looked past him. “Don’t you think so, Caden?”
Macario spun around to see Jace and Caden standing in the doorway. They’d been there long enough to hear most of Macario’s story and Caden looked frozen in his tracks.
“Caden!” Macario exclaimed. He pulled up short before reaching towards his youngest brother. “I had hoped the Prens would relay a message. I’d like to speak with you.”
For a moment Caden just stared. Then he bowed slightly. “I’m afraid I have an appointment. If you all will excuse me.”
Macario seemed to deflate as Caden turned and left. “I’ve upset him,” he said quietly.
Jace put a hand on his shoulder. “He does have an appointment.”
Macario tried to smile. “Thank you for your time, my lady,” he said with a bow.
“I’ll see you out,” I told him.
We walked down a flight of stairs in silence. I paused. “I’ve just realized I needed to check something,” I said with an apologetic smile.
“I’ll see myself out, Lady Pren. Please don’t trouble yourself.”
“Nonsense. It will only take a moment,” I said quickly, putting a hand on his arm. “You don’t mind waiting only a moment.”
Of course good manners forced him to agree.
I smiled and walked toward Jace’s study, using a nudge of magic to ensure that the drawing room door was slightly open as I passed it. When I reached the end of the corridor I turned and counted to ten very slowly before silently walking back.
When I rejoined Macario it was obvious he’d seen right through my little subterfuge, but he stood outside the drawing room listening in fascination. “Caden’s teaching.”
I smiled. “He’s very good at it.”
Macario’s expression was thoughtful as we turned and finished making out way downstairs. At the door he turned to me suddenly. “I want to thank you and your husband, Lady Pren. For seeing in Caden what the rest of us seem to have missed entirely.”
“Most days it’s our pleasure,” I replied.
He looked startled, then laughed aloud. “I can see why he likes you, Lady Pren.”
“Please, it’s Keish,” I told him. “Come to lunch tomorrow. Jace and I will talk to Caden.”
“Very well, and you’ll have to call me Macario,” he said with a gallant bow. “Thank you again.”
“Did you show him?” Jace asked casually when I returned to the library. (Proving once again that he knows me too well.)
I just smiled and we both went back to our work.
Caden, however, did not smile when he learned that Macario would be joining us for lunch. “Keish, how dare you? He probably went straight to Mother and Father after he left as it is.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You can’t hide from your family forever, Caden,” Jace pointed out. “What harm will it do to see what Macario has to say?”
“I don’t think your uncle would have told him anything if he didn’t think you could trust Macario,” I said in exasperation. “Besides, I remind him of Cambria too.”
Caden sighed. “Fine. One lunch. But then I get to decide if I have anything else to do with him,” he declared, his eyes daring me to contradict him.
I simply rolled my eyes again rather than dignifying that with a response.

March 26th
Lunch was… interesting.
Macario was prompt and charming; Caden was sullen and moody.
“Where did you tell Miranda you were going?” Caden asked his brother.
“I told her the truth-- that I was meeting you for lunch.”
“And she was just thrilled,” Caden replied flippantly.
“She was happy and relieved. She and Racquel are still close and while our charming cousin may not break any confidences, her praise can be lavish.”
Caden’s only reply was a grunt.
I rolled my eyes. “Brooksby,” I called into the hallway (we were in the salon), “would you find Keaton and tell him Caden wants him to meet his older brother please?”
Caden glared at me, but Keaton appeared almost immediately and he dutifully made the introductions.
“Keaton, keep Lord Macario company a moment, won’t you? Tell him about your chicken coop.”
I all but dragged Caden out of the room, Jace prodding him along from behind. I’m a terrible hostess, I know, leaving a child to entertain a guest while I had words with our recalcitrant friend, but Macario is a father. I was certain he would know how to listen to a child.
“You could at least be civil,” Jace said sternly as soon as we were in the neighboring morning room. “He seems genuinely concerned about you.”
“And you know as well as we do that King Menion contrived that whole situation. He’d already received your note and responded to it, so how could it be inadvertently delivered to the crown prince? The king wanted Macario to know,” I added.
Caden all but growled.
“You agreed to this lunch,” I reminded him, “so I’m only going to say this once: be nice.”
He looked like he had all manner of unpleasant things he wanted to say, but Jace was standing close and giving him a very stern look, so he wisely refrained.
We returned to the salon, where Macario seemed enchanted by Keaton’s chatter. Listening to Keaton helped Caden relax and by the time we went in to lunch he was almost cheerful. Well, no longer sullen, at least.
Talk drifted and swirled. Papa had joined us, but Keaton was off with Master Zart to have lunch with Tish. I think Caden wished he had gone with them, but at least he wasn’t growling.
Finally, the conversation turned to Caden’s ball, and his confrontation with his mother.
Macario sighed. “You’re too young to recognize the pattern,” he said gently. “It wasn’t just about Stacia Pastile. Mother’s been this way with all of us. Alec married, so I needed to marry also. Drytan married, so Gage was next. Dalton managed to get around it-- he married Xandra a few months before Gowlan married Romella. Mother thinks it makes us not only more suitable companions but better able to serve as confidential secretaries. She doesn’t bother Terence-- since she’d already decided on you for Euan she ran out of prince regents.”
Caden looked incredulous. “This is about Euan becoming prince regent? Mother’s as delusional as he is.”
Macario shrugged. “She likes to be prepared.”
“Uncle is not going to make Euan prince regent.”
“Well, I know that. And you know that. And Aunt Jocasta is torn between being upset at the slight to Euan and thrilled that he won’t leave Adya.”
I grimaced.
Macario saw and chuckled. “Yes, I know. But he’s always been her favorite.”
“Something I’ve never fully understood,” I replied under my breath.
Not quietly enough, though. “She almost lost him,” was Papa’s quiet response.
I gave him a blank look.
“He was born exactly when your mother said he would be, but there were complications she hadn’t seen.”
Macario nodded. “I was old enough I remember. It was three days before the doctors were certain the queen would live and then another ten before they were sure about Euan.”
“I don’t think the queen ever quite forgave Ellean.”
I bristled. The two most important rules of divination, Brynn always says, are that you can’t choose what you see and that sometimes you can’t see everything. “She didn’t know,” I said defensively.
“The king understood that,” Macario said gently, “but I don’t think the queen found not knowing any more forgivable.”
“That probably goes a long way toward explaining why she’s never cared for me,” I muttered.
Macario laughed. “Actually I think it’s mostly that you terrify her.”
Caden grinned. “Keish terrifies a lot of people. They should form a society.”
“Or a therapy group,” I shot back.
Jace just laughed and squeezed my hand.
Macario grew serious as the meal wound down. “Where are you staying, Caden? I spent most of Monday trying to find out. Miranda’s been worried; she wants you to come stay with us.”
Caden shook his head. “No, I won’t put you in that position with Mother,” he replied. “I’m staying here.”
Macario nodded. “I wondered, after yesterday.”
“How…” Caden began tentatively, “how is Mother taking it?”
Marcario chuckled. “She’s furious. Father’s amused, for what it’s worth. Stacia left in a huff, though it was difficult to tell who was more irritated, her or Eli. Dalton is entirely put out with you, also. Or at least he will be by the time they get to Streatfeld. He’d thought that leaving so soon after the ball would spare them from traveling with Eli and Annaleis. Not to mention Stacia.”
Clearly Caden wasn’t the only one who didn’t love his brother-in-law.
By the time Macario took his leave, Caden was relaxed and pleasant.
Macario stopped at the door, turning back. “Be careful tonight,” he said simply, the only reference he’d made to the meeting Caden was to attend or any work Caden was doing for the king.
Caden nodded sharply and Macario left.

March 27th
We waited in the library for Caden for hours upon hours last night. At least that was how it felt.
He went first to a dinner party-- the meeting was to start at 10.
By midnight, Jace was looking worried. I was trying to distract myself with the latest sensational novel that everyone is pretending they haven’t read, but when Jace started pacing I lost all concentration.
The clock struck one and Jace stopped pacing. He stared at the fire. “Should we do something?”
I stared out the window. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just being careful-- he wouldn’t want to be followed here.”
“If he’s not here by two I’m going to King Menion,” Jace said finally in a determined voice.
I just nodded.
It was quarter to two when Caden came in and dropped heavily into a chair.
“How bad is it?” Jace asked quietly.
Caden’s laugh was a short mirthless bark. “I don’t know. They’re careful. I only met with three people tonight and they didn’t tell me much.”
He stared at nothing for several moments before Jace prompted him to tell us the rest.
“Sir Epte’s footman was there. And a minor palace butler. They’re both Grestean apparently. But it was Sir Jer DeLion whom I was really there to talk to.”
I gasped a little. “But he’s Arellan.” I only know him slightly-- he’s another minor knight. He just transferred out of Sir Aoweir’s division so is still in Adya. I’m sure Gretel knows him.
Caden nodded somberly. “I think that was their point. I wouldn’t be the only Arellan involved.”
Jace’s face was grim. “What did they say?”
“That something needed to be done to shake up the government. That we are too reliant on our good relations with Elcaro. That maybe the king shouldn’t be the king.”
“Treason,” Jace said simply.
Caden nodded. “Simple, unvarnished treason. And what a coup for them-- to have the queen’s nephew on their side.”
I grimaced.
“What’s next?” Jace asked, ever pragmatic.
“I’ll be contacted. At my club. I’m supposed to be thinking it over. I walked aimlessly for a while to see if I was being followed. I was. So I went to my club and told the butler I’d be in the library and didn’t want to be disturbed. That will always buy you an hour or two. I slipped out a back entrance and went to report to the king.”
“I thought you were to see him in the morning,” Jace said.
“I received a discreet note at dinner. No matter the time I would find him in his study.”
“And how did he react?”
“He’s angry, of course, but my being pulled in like this is the best thing we could have hoped for. I’m to play along until I know more. He doesn’t want to step in prematurely and catch only a few while sending the rest deeper into hiding.”
Jace furrowed his brow. “That puts you in a rather precarious position.”
Caden gave him a wry grin. “I’ll take those further sparring lessons you offered now.”
Jace didn’t smile in return, just nodded. “We’ll use the mats in the drawing room. Daily.” His tone indicated there would be no argument.
Caden sighed and nodded. He looked ready to collapse. Between the strain and the hour I think we all did.
It doesn’t seem any less bleak in the light of day, Arri.

March 28th
I have your letter. I’m sorry your classes aren’t what you’d hoped. It will get better, though. Right?
If Imato is calling Gretel in his sleep then either his calling spells are stronger than I thought or it is because they are so close. Which makes sense. After all, I can call Jace, which magical theory says is highly improbable. If I hadn’t interrupted Imato’s call to Jace, Jace never would have heard it.
I am also surprised that the talisman survived. I’m glad Imato was able to retrieve it. He should keep it-- it would be fitting for him to wear it.
Gordo is right to be proud of the drawings he and Mendel made of the Pren house-- they are certainly impressive. Jace says Mendel clearly has a real talent for it. Malia has already made pages of notes and is writing to Taty.
Caden says no one owes him anything for keeping Liop entertained. His motives were entirely selfish-- he had at least as much fun as the boys.
We should make it an annual event. Perhaps next year your break will be longer so that you can come too.
I’m glad you are back to work with Master Grant. Tish and Caden are planning to spend Saturday trying to take reflections of cells and searching for other ideas for you.
Jace wonders, since freezing water conventionally will also freeze the bacteria, if you can prevent that from happening. Can you keep the bacteria from freezing while Master Grant freezes the water around it with ice?
Sagiteri Curtiz sounds interesting. I’m sorry it caught you so off guard, but I doubt it was as dreadful as you thought. I’m sure she thinks you were wonderful, if only a little shy.
I am very glad you do not have Dr. Kondamuri.
Jace is amused but unsurprised that Mendel is talking about the honor roll as though it were a joust.
Caden says you’re already breaking ground just by being there and to be getting such high marks without having been to an academy should put you on your own honor roll every single term. I agree.
I hadn’t thought about asking the Chronicle either. What a perfect idea.
I think you must be correct about Sen’a being your father.
Caden is hoping to perhaps learn what Mic’o is as he continues his clandestine meetings.
The spell that you saw for Ta’y raises very interesting questions. Gretel’s right-- the Gresteans could be searching for something completely worthless.
Then again, it could mean that that spell is what should be used if and when the object is found.
I think you were right to tell Captain Stoddart no. You have enough to do without a trip to Marobury. There are others who can lead an inquiry. Brynn would be willing, I’m sure, if he wants someone with a Brio connection.
I still can’t divine anything about you healing your father, but I can tell you that there’s nothing in Marobury that will explicitly help you do it.

This letter has gotten far longer than I intended, so I’ll have to close. Good luck with your new term. Tish says she will write you after she and Caden experiment Saturday.

Love Always,

Keish

See the Sketches

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Arri- March 18, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

March 18, 2005
Dear Keish,

Today I took my notes to Uncle W. to get his opinions on the subject. We spent a couple of hours going through the chemicals in his laboratory and discussing their potential in healing. In Odsreq, Uncle W. sometimes acted as an apothecary, mixing compounds for the local doctors. Rousha has plenty of fulltime apothecaries, so he doesn’t do much of that anymore, but he still has a lot of the chemicals on hand. He isn’t a doctor, but he could tell me what the different medicines are prescribed for. It was interesting and I added more notes to my collection, all the time wondering if I was really making the best use of my time. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading the notes. Reading, reading, reading. I think I have them memorized.
I went to the university campus to get my schedule for next term. Here it is:
College Algebra, course 2: 9am, daily
Basic Biology, course 2: 10am, daily
Introduction to Geology: 1-3pm, four days a week

I think the advisors have forgotten what my major is. There isn’t a single medical course in this list. I’m happy to take the biology, and with Basic Biology 1, it will count the same as if I had taken Medical Biology. I wouldn’t mind the other classes, except that I need to heal Father and how will studying math and rocks help with that? It’s very frustrating. Uncle W. says it will get better. These other classes count towards my generals and once I have all of my generals done, the advisors will have to put me in the medical classes. I haven’t shown my schedule to Master Ujifil yet, but he will only sigh and mutter something about distractions. I rather agree with him.
I haven’t seen Mendel and Gordo’s schedules yet. I don’t think we’ll have any classes together.

March 20th
I received your letter. Your dresses are all beautiful! I’m going to copy out your sketches and send them to Treany. I’m sure she will decide that Adya is the new center of fashion. Gretel also loves the look and hopes it is still in style next year when she will be able to wear it.
It sounds like Liop and Keaton had the time of their lives with Caden. It’s too bad they don’t live closer together. I can’t wait for them to get home tomorrow so that I can hear their versions of what happened.
Without Taty around I don’t get nearly as many invitations to social events as I normally would. It’s something of a relief since I turn down most of them anyway. But I do miss Taty. That was the great thing about living with the Prens: I saw a lot more of her. Since the incident with Master Calibri, Taty has taken to telling gentlemen exactly what she thinks of them the moment they start paying attention to her. That way they can’t be confused about her feelings. At the advice of Lady Pren, she also put a limit on the number of times she allows a gentlemen to take her out or call on her. Master Corey gets around it by inviting other young people and keeping all their activities in a group without pairings. Although, really, it’s not much different from the way he and Master Beagan planned social events before.
Liop and fireworks is a scary combination. I’m glad Thor is going to be okay. Uncle W. keeps a strict eye on him here. I’m sure he will get quite a lecture on what he and Keaton did in the drawing room. Liop should have known better.
That’s funny that Imato cast a calling spell in his sleep. Gretel, however, is wondering if it explains why she’s woken up several times in the middle of the night convinced that Imato was in the room with her, only to find out he wasn’t at all.
“If that’s true, then maybe you’ve finally found a type of magic you can sense,” I commented.
Gretel’s eyes widened. “You’re right!” she declared enthusiastically. As I write this, Gretel is taking pen and paper to write Imato on the subject. We’re expecting Express to return any day now with Imato’s latest letter.
It’s amazing that Father’s talisman, made only of wire, survived the war. With it being so close to Imato, I’m sure he will be able to retrieve it quickly. We might even receive word of it in his next letter.
I wish I could have gone to Spring Market with you. It sounds lovely. The weather has been wonderful. It sounds like Liop and Keaton had a lot of fun hunting dragons in the woods. Elcaro’s castle doesn’t have any woods, just well-tended young parks. You have to leave the city to find anything resembling a forest.
The party sounds like it was very nice. I’m sure Nysa and Taty will show me their dresses when they get home. Nysa needed a new dress. She so rarely wants anything for herself. It sounds like you all had a wonderful time.
I should mention that the King and Queen did acknowledge Master Corey and Captain Wood. Master Beagan, however, is the one who risked his life, even though we all know the others would have done so too.
I did not get to see the floor plan Mendel and Gordo made before they sent it, but I am told it was very impressive. Gordo is very proud of it. He is taking Introduction to Architecture this term. It is probably the only subject about which Mendel knows more than he does, with the possible exception of fishing.
I have not tried to take Mendel’s test and I’m not going to. I will let Mendel know that Caden liked it.

March 21st
Liop, Nysa, and Taty returned home yesterday, exhausted and ready for bed. Today, we all had dinner at the Prens’ so that we could hear about their adventures. I’ve heard so much about the science museum that I’m beginning to feel that I really was there. Uncle W. says he owes Caden a big favor for entertaining Liop so completely. I think I’m going to be hearing about Spring Break for months. Nysa and Taty also had a wonderful time. Nysa says we must do this every year and that I must find a way to come too.

March 24th
I was first to the laboratory on the 22nd, glad to be back working with Master Grant. I had to wait for him to arrive a few minutes later and unlock the lab door. I asked him how his break was and he said he enjoyed it very much. I told him that I’d been going over my notes and studying. He smiled and nodded.
“I have someone coming at the end of our meeting today that I’d like you to meet,” he said.
I spent most of the next two hours wondering who Master Grant could possibly want me to meet. I didn’t know of anyone else at the university who might be interested in our work. We picked up right where we left off with searching for a spell that could impact a bacterium. The spell I had chosen to try next was a spell to freeze water. I prepared a fresh slide and invited Master Grant to check my work, which he did. Then I cast the spell. The bacteria on the slide froze instantly with the water. Pleased, I showed Master Grant.
“This is very interesting,” he said, “but can we say that the magic worked on the bacteria or on the water? Water frozen in an ordinary way will also freeze bacteria.”
My excitement deflated.
“Still,” Master Grant continued without looking at me, “this does imply that magic can be used to impact individual cells indirectly. We should document these results.”
This meant Master Grant thought the results important enough to replicate a few hundred times. I felt a little better.
We were just starting to clean up when someone knocked sharply on the door of the lab. Master Grant smiled widely at me and went to open it.
Standing in the doorway was a young woman unlike any I have seen before. She looked almost Iconese, but not quite. Her skin was reddish though not nearly as dark as Aegolius. Her eyes, though gold, were also paler. Her features were a mixture of Iconese and Arellan/Elcaran features. She stood taller than me with a sturdier figure. Beautiful and dramatic, I could easily imagine her in the theatre. I stared without saying anything.
“Miss Arri Etautca,” said Master Grant with obvious enthusiasm, “I’d like you to meet Miss Sagiteria Curtiz. Sagi, this is Miss Etautca.”
“Miss Etautca,” she came forward to shake my hand warmly, “Emil has told me so much about your work. I do hope you’ll be able to heal your father soon.”
“Sagi and I just became engaged,” Master Grant explained.
I had not anticipated that. I reddened and said nothing, feeling increasingly like an idiot.
“Pleased to meet you,” I stammered, wanting to run.
“Will you show me your laboratory?” asked Miss Curtiz, “My mother comes from Iconei and she taught me to love science. I very much admire your courage in coming to college. I was raised here in Elcaro, but my mother attended college in Iconei before she immigrated. She tells me she was no great talent…”
It was a relief to discover that Miss Curtiz loves to talk. She told me all about her father’s adventurous spirit which took him to Iconei where he met her mother, married her, and brought her back to Elcaro, much to the astonishment and consternation of his family. She was clearly proud of her heritage, proud of Master Grant for his decision to study biology, and eager see the discoveries he would make.
“They believe in Iconei that Elcaro is very backward, but you and Emil will soon prove them wrong,” she concluded.
I liked her, but it was a relief to excuse myself after fifteen minutes so I could run to Algebra. I almost bumped into Lorenzo walking Lexie on my way out, which made me run even faster. I wanted to bury myself in algebraic equations and not think about anything for a while.
Fortunately, I do not have Dr. Kondamuri again this term. Neither my algebra nor my geology professor has commented on my gender. I’ve decided school is easiest when no one seems to notice me. After algebra I had biology with Dr. Ecrue again and by the end of that class I was feeling much calmer, although still very much like an idiot. I hardly said two words to Miss Curtiz and she was so nice. What must she think of me?

March 25th
My test scores were posted today. I didn’t make the honor role, but Mendel says I shouldn’t feel badly. He says that I probably have the craziest schedule of any student on campus and that I should be proud that my grades are good. He and Gordo are vying for top of the honor roll of course, with Mendel just behind Gordo in his marks. I think Gordo takes it for granted that he will always be on top. Mendel, however, is determined to beat him. To hear Mendel talk about the other high honor students, you’d think they were all competitors in a joust.

Gretel had begun pacing the floors, torn between anger and worry over the fact that no letter had yet come from Imato. However, this evening Express finally arrived and Gretel snatched the letter away from her and left me to offer her food and water. I can’t really blame Gretel. The letter was definitely late.
Imato has been to the cave and retrieved Father’s talisman. He is happy to report that the enchantment on it is still intact. He’s been studying it and believes the spell is specific to Father and his descendants, that it won’t work for anyone else. It’s not a really strong spell; wards were not a talent of Mother’s, but it is full of her love. This makes it very unlikely that the talisman is what the Grestians are looking for. Imato offered to send the talisman to us (or you) if we want to do further testing. Gretel says that she would rather he kept it since it is still working and will work for him. I like that idea. I’m not sure what I would do with it.

March 26th
I had an idea today. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I decided to ask the Chronicle what it knew about the seven names. The first name I asked about was Y’low. The book opened to a blank page. Disappointed, but not discouraged, I tried A’Ter. The response was better this time: pages and pages of ancient battles between Greste and Elcaro, and also Greste and Yuglicov during the time that Elcaro and Arella were subject to that empire. It is odd to think of Yuglicov as an empire when it’s now such a small, unassuming little country on Elcaro’s southwestern corner. Three hundred years has changed a lot. I skimmed through the pages, but I didn’t see anything that struck me as important. Maybe later when I have more time I will read them more carefully.
The next name I asked the Chronicle about was P’Le. The book found a brief mention of him as the captain of the army in a battle Father fought in. I read the entry carefully, but didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know. I think Mother wrote that entry. Next I tried K’lei. The Chronicle opened to a blank page.
“That makes sense,” said Gretel, who was watching my spell-casting with interest, “If your mother was the last person to write in the Chronicle and no one knew anything about K’lei yet.”
“True,” I said, “Mother would only have written things she thought were important to the Brio Clan.”
I hesitated and then decided to move on to the names that most interested me. I started with Sen’a. The Chronicle immediately opened to the same entry that contained the name of Captain Pelei. It didn’t say so directly, but I think this is good evidence that Sen’a is actually Father and not Captain Stoddart. If it were Captain Stoddart, I think the Chronicle would have been blank or would have mentioned him when he was Father’s chief Lieutenant.
The next name I tried was Mic’o, but the Chronicle knew nothing about this name.
Last, I tried Ta’y, which is the name the experts think might be an object. The Chronicle opened to a spell. Surprised, I studied it. It was a spell for stripping an object of magic, one layer at a time. The name “Ta’y” did not appear anywhere on the nearly three pages of instructions for performing the spell.
“So is Ta’y another name for this spell?” asked Gretel, leaning over my shoulder, “Or is it another name for one of the ingredients in the spell?”
“Or is this the last spell that was performed on the object?” I asked.
Gretel nodded, frowning.
“But if this was the last spell performed on the object,” she said slowly, “wouldn’t that mean that the Grestians are, in effect, searching for an object that is worthless?”
We were silent for a minute, considering this possibility.
“They may not know the object is useless,” I said, “What if it’s a weapon that was captured in battle? It would have been sent to Marobury. First they would have stripped its magic, and then they would have melted it down.”
“Assuming it was made out of metal,” commented Gretel.
“They would have done whatever was necessary to destroy it whatever it was made out of,” I responded.
“If they got it,” said Gretel. She had a point.
I took what information I had to Captain Stoddart this evening. He listened gravely to Gretel and my hypotheses about T’ay. It all felt less important and more speculative the longer I talked.
“I think a trip to Marobury is in order,” said Captain Stoddart, “We should make inquiries among the workers who may have been present when the 2000 Spring Battle occurred. Lady Arri, would you be willing to lead the party? I think your connections to the events and your work with the Chronicle make you a good choice of leaders.”
I took a step back, stunned. He wanted me to lead an inquiry? I didn’t know how to respond.
“I can have a party ready at the end of next week,” the captain continued, “How long do you think you will need to make a thorough investigation?”
Next week. That brought me back to reality. I would have to miss school. Confusion gripped me. This was related to helping Father, but so were my studies. Which was more important?
“Lady Arri?” asked Captain Stoddart.
“I’m honored,” I began hesitantly, “that you would trust me with this…” I trailed off, thinking hard. The words of my last conversation with Trena circled among my thoughts.
“I can’t go,” I said, finally, “I’m sorry. I have to stay here and work on healing Father. I don’t think going to Marobury will help me with that.”
Captain Stoddart folded his arms, frowning. A feeling of panic gripped me.
“You see,” I rushed on, “Trena said Father could answer all my questions. She said I had to heal him first, so if I go off on this inquiry, I’ll be trying to get the answers myself, which isn’t what Trena said. More information is just more information. I’m sorry.”
Captain Stoddart continued to frown, but he nodded.
“I’m sorry too,” he said, “but I will respect your judgment. Feel free to change your mind. I still want to send an inquiry.”
Keish, did I do right? I turned down the Captain of the Elcaran Army. I don’t think he was pleased. What if there is something in Marobury that will help me cure Father? What if I chose wrong?

I’m glad finals went so smoothly for you and that you had such a wonderful spring break. Give my love to everyone.

Love,
Arri

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Taty and Nysa Get Dresses Too!

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 13:30:00 +0000

Nysa's Dress

(Again, Damsel in this Dress!!)

Taty's Dress (Back)

Taty's Dress (front)

(Damsel in this Dress: High Drama!!)

Keish's Dress

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

(Psst: you can get a dress like Keish's in real life! Check out Damsel in this Dress!!)

Keish- March 12, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

March 12, 2005
Dear Arri,
They’re here. “FINALLY” as Taty said.
What, pray tell, made Uncle W. think it would be a good idea to send Caden’s very large firework order with them?
After two-and-a-half days of traveling with Liop and fireworks and Nozama Nysa was looking decidedly nettled and Taty was muttering about being glad to be the youngest child. Both were very very glad to turn Liop over to Master Zart.
“For the duration,” Nysa said dryly.
Caden was here when they arrived (I think he was nearly as excited to see Liop as Keaton was) and gleefully began looking through the crates of fireworks as Dylan and Reid brought them into the drawing room. (Since Dylan is also our “Master of the Menagerie” he and Nozama had to be properly introduced first.)

Taty immediately began remonstrating me for not giving more detail or sending a sketch to her or you of my “very dramatic” (Jace’s description) new dress-- the one I had made for my birthday. Apparently it was the height of cruelty to not give a detailed account and sketch, so I’ve been ordered to rectify the situation. This meant showing her the dress, of course, but also sending a sketch to you with apologies.
When Malia brought it out of my dressing room, Nysa and Taty both gasped.
I suppose it is rather bold, but since I didn’t wear it to Stacia Pastile’s presentation after all, I hadn’t gotten many reactions yet. (Caden demanded that I reserve such a dramatic fashion statement for HIS ball. Since his demands were as annoying as his pleading had been, Jace picked a different gown for me just to make him be quiet.)
When I initially went to the seamstress to have a gown made for my birthday, Annette all but pounced on me. “How do you feel about something new and daring, Lady Keish?” she asked, eyes sparkling.
“I presume you have something in mind,” I said dryly.
“I want to try it, but no one else at court is bold enough to wear it,” she explained, handing me a sketch with a flourish.
I’m enclosing the very sketch for you. I was surprised, to say the least. The design is shocking without being scandalous, and she was right-- no other woman at court would dare wear it unless someone else did first.
I decided I rather liked it. If I hadn’t worn red and gold for Gretel, the colors would have concerned me, but the rich brocade held too much drama for me to turn down.
And of course the little hat just makes the whole thing.
I made Annette very happy by choosing it, and she made me very happy by turning it out perfectly. Jace’s initial reaction was all I needed to love this dress.
Taty wanted to try it on, but I’m at least a full three inches taller than she is and it just wouldn’t do. The tails on the coat require height to pull them off.
She was disappointed, but her father had given her a very generous shopping allowance for this trip, so she dragged Nysa and me to see Annette immediately, who was thrilled to show Taty all manner of similar designs and fabrics.
Taty was trying to talk Nysa into having a dress made also, but Nysa just ducked her head with a smile and demurred.

I left them to it and wandered back to the drawing room to find Caden and the boys still eagerly sorting fireworks.
“Oh, there you are Keish. Good. What‘s all this about Keaton not being in Adya for his birthday?” Caden launches into discussions with no preamble whatsoever sometimes.
“He’ll be in Leilan, with his parents, for the whole summer,” I replied.
“Denying these two boys the chance to celebrate each other’s birthdays!”
I rolled my eyes and waited for Caden to get to his point. Assuming he had one.
Jace came in before he could make it. “I do hope you’re not yelling at my wife again,” Jace told Caden by way of greeting.
“I just think it’s an injustice that Liop and Keaton with each miss the other’s birthday,” he said.
“And you just hate injustice,” Jace teased.
Caden looked mildly hurt. “You know I do. But never fear, I have a plan.”
“Here it comes,” I muttered.
“We’ll celebrate all our birthdays. We’ll throw the best secret birthday party for half a dozen people anyone has ever seen.” He furrowed his brow. “Or not seen.”
Despite his odd phrasing, both boys picked up on his meaning immediately.
“Can we, Keish?” Keaton asked hopefully. The longing in his eyes was almost heartbreaking. Doubtless a good birthday bash wasn’t the proper thing in Leilan.
Liop had grabbed Jace’s hand and was switching languages every third word as he begged Jace to agree.
I laughed, holding up a hand to stop the madness surrounding me. “Throw whatever party you’d like, Caden, but it’s on you. Jace and I have finals to deal with.”
Caden bowed with a flourish. “Of course. I will see to everything. I just need your drawing room here and your servants. Now if only there were fireworks we could use indoors…”
Liop scrambled from Jace’s side to one of the crates. He withdrew a small box. “These are Uncle W.’s latest invention. They’re a cross between the little firecrackers he brought at New Year’s and real fireworks. He says they can be used indoors.”
Caden’s face lit up. Heaven help us, it’s like we have three boys on our hands. He set the box carefully on a table. “These will stay here then. We’d best put the rest of these back in their crates, though, so that they can be properly delivered to me.”
Jace and I left the boys helping him as all three listed off the terribly extravagant menu they thought the party needed.
“Save Thursday night,” Caden called after us.
“Thursday’s also the day we’re going to the museum,” Jace reminded me.
I sighed a little, but smiled. “Should make for an interesting day.”

At dinner Caden told everyone about the birthday party. (How he explains all the time he spends with us to his parents, I have no idea.)
Papa and Taty were eager conspirators, of course, but Nysa looked thoughtful.
“I haven’t thought about my own birthday in a very long time,” she said slowly. “I don’t even remember when it is.”
“July,” I told her. “I suppose we overlooked it completely in the chaos last summer. That was thoughtless of us.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need a celebration.” She furrowed her brow. “I’m not even certain how old I am. I would have to ask Winthrop.”
I smiled. “Since Brynn says you won’t age normally I’m not sure your age on paper would be correct.”
Caden shrugged. “Just pick any age you like. High society ladies do it all the time. My mother was 35 for an improbable amount of time. She used to love it when people would ask how many of us were her stepchildren.”
Papa laughed. “Ellean always claimed to be older than she actually was, rather than younger. She said she’d rather people thought that she looked incredibly youthful for her age than that she was simply young.”
That made us all laugh, of course. Personally, I think my mother had the right idea.

March 13th
Liop and Keaton are fine.
The veterinarian assures us that while Thor may always have a slight limp, puppies are very resilient. He should be back chasing things in just a few days. Though hopefully not fireworks.
Jace has given the boys a stern fatherly talking to, though secretly I think he’s at least a little amused.
At least they were using Uncle W.’s new indoor fireworks. Unfortunately they do still explode. Since they were in the drawing room throwing them against a blank wall everything would have been fine if Thor hadn’t thought it was a game of fetch.
Master Zart is absolutely mortified, blaming himself for leaving the boys to themselves for an hour.
“Nonsense,” I told him. “You certainly deserve to eat a meal in peace. Besides, if they hadn’t gotten into trouble with the fireworks today they’d have managed to find another time.”
“At least the remained in the tower with them,” Taty pointed out helpfully. She and Malia had been in the solarium looking at fabric. Not having the blueprints from Mendel yet certainly hasn’t deterred Taty, though her dress has distracted her somewhat.
“Really given their mutual interest in alchemy an explosion was inevitable,” I declared, standing up from my crouched position examining the remains of the chair Thor had dashed under. I wiped the dust from my hands. “Personally I’m relieved to have it over with so early in the visit.”
Brooksby took charge of the remaining indoor fireworks, promising to lock them in the butler’s pantry. I made sure he wouldn’t give them to anyone-- not just the boys-- in case one of the enterprising young magicians managed a glamour. I doubt either of them could, but Liop has taught me to be extra cautious about such things.

While the boys were trying to blow up the drawing room, I was studying your father’s pocket watch. True to his word, Liop had not cast any spells on it, thankfully. In fact, he was very careful not to handle it any more than necessary and delivered it to me wrapped in a handkerchief. I commended him for his caution and he blushed.
“I heard Arri telling Gretel what you’d said about harmonics,” he said with a little shrug. “I didn’t want to complicate anything.”
He and Keaton wanted to help, but I insisted that Jace be the only one to remain in the room with me. I was already obviously going to have to sort through lingering impressions of Imato to do this-- I didn’t need any other magical complications or interference. (Of course, if I’d known the boys were going to go play with fireworks I might have kept them with me.)
“I’m not a complication?” Jace asked with an impish grin once everyone had left. He put his hands around my waist. “Am I at least a distraction?”
I fixed a playful glare on him. “Well if you’re going to try to be one I can have someone else help me with the maps. Papa’s influence isn’t quite as focusing, but he won’t be difficult about it either.”
Jace laughed and kissed my nose lightly before releasing me. He took up a position at the other end of the table with the map that he and Caden had painstakingly marked with Imato’s current position as well as the patrol routes and other camps. “I am yours to command, as always.”
I rolled my eyes and picked up the pocket watch., holding it lightly above my mirror.
“Keish?” I heard Imato ask groggily. He was alert almost instantly. “What’s wrong?”
I held up a hand. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Apparently I misjudged how recently you’d carried your father’s watch.”
Imato fell back onto the cot. “My father’s watch?” Confusion was quickly replacing adrenalin. “I took it with me when I went to see him before leaving Rousha. But what does that… Why can I see Jace?”
Jace gave a crooked grin. “Is this what you knights do? Sleep away the day?”
“Only when we’ve been up all night on patrol. Keish, what’s going on?”
I sighed as I tried to untangle the threads on magic in my mind. “Imato, have you been practicing calling spells?”
He looked startled. “Well, yes. Queran and I were experimenting with them as a means for patrols to report in.”
“And were you dreaming just now?”
“Yes… Jace was here…” He rubbed his hand across his face. “I needed to tell him something…”
I sighed again. “You used a calling spell in your sleep.”
Imato’s eyes went wide. “I called Jace from here in my sleep?”
I laughed. “Sort of. You tried to-- at the same time that I was sifting through the harmonics on your father’s watch. For anyone else it would be the most ridiculous magical coincidence conceivable. For us,” I shrugged, “it’s being Brios.”
Jace was laughing softly as Imato struggled to make sense of what happened.
“Better to interrupt a calling spell than a ward,” I muttered, remembering when I interrupted Uncle W’s spell.
“Go back to sleep, Imato. I’ll write as soon as Keish is done to let you know what she learns.”
Imato looked like he wanted to argue with that, but he was obviously exhausted. “See that you do,” he said finally.
I pulled back, carefully releasing the calling spell. I looked at Jace. “Well that wasn’t what I intended.”
“But it was entertaining,” Jace replied with a smile. “What are the odds of something like that?”
“For anyone else? Nearly nonexistent. For Brios?” I laughed. “I’m almost surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”
“Well, shall we try that again, love? Not that I don’t enjoy chatting with Imato.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, gently pushing past all traces of Imato, searching for traces of your father instead.
I was rewarded with a dizzying swirl of images-- I was in the desert and a battle raged around me. I stumbled and vaguely felt Jace’s arm go around my waist. I felt him slide the map close, a quill held ready.
I steadied myself and saw your father fighting a mountain troll. I’ve seen swordplay before, of course, but your father was amazing.
After several moments, the troll’s hand shot forward and ripped your father’s talisman from his armor. I felt more than saw the ward around your father waver as I heard a grating laugh from the troll. Your father was able to lunge forward, stabbing the troll, but the troll spun away, retreating with his prize.
Your father was immediately surrounded and I had to remind myself that I wasn’t there-- it wasn’t happening in front of me… there was nothing I could do for him.
I let my magic follow the talisman instead. The troll who had taken it ran, darting here and there to avoid engaging with any of the other knights. Suddenly he broke through the lines and I saw him run. It felt like hours before he came to a small opening in a hillside. Not large enough to be a cave, but just large enough to hide the troll. He dove into it.
I reached for Jace’s hand and let my magic guide it over the map, marking the site of the battle, and the route the troll had taken.
I did not want to look in that hole, but I had to.
I pushed my magic forward, holding it at the opening a moment before seeking inside.
The troll was dead. Your father had wounded him badly and as he ran he’d lost more and more blood.
The talisman was on the rock beside him.
Eyes still closed, I marked the tiny cave on the map and focused all of my energy on that talisman, trying to speed through the years to the present.
My eyes popped open and I smiled.
“It’s still there.”
Jace was studying the map. “You know I never doubt you, Keisha, but are you sure about what we’ve marked?”
I thought about it carefully before answering. Finally I nodded decisively. “I am. It’s there.”
Jace laughed. “Well, who said this wouldn’t be easy?” He pointed at the map.
I leaned forward to study it and laughed with him.
Imato’s camp is not an hour’s ride from the small cave I saw. He’s camped practically right on top of it.
Jace started a letter to Imato immediately, but of course that’s when Keaton and Liop nearly deafened me with simultaneous calling spells. (He finished it this evening and Caden sent it off with a pigeon so Imato should have it in three or four days.)
Since Nysa came running too, I gathered they weren’t very specific about who they called.
I made them each learn a simple calling spell this morning, but hadn’t expected them to need it this soon.

Jace insisted that they explain what happened to Caden and apologize, since they were his fireworks. When he and Tish showed up to have their lesson exchange, the boys hung their heads and explained.
Caden tried not to laugh. At least, I think he tried.
They let the boys stay for both the science and writing lesson, so the boys knew they were forgiven.
Tish declined the invitation to stay for dinner, but Caden accepted, of course.
Dinner was a lively affair, highlighted by Keaton and Liop’s accounts every science experiment they’ve ever tried. And several rather alarming ones they’d like to.
In the library afterward I tried to ask Caden more about Raquel’s letter. (He’d been put out earlier having received a letter saying that she and her family would be unable to attend his ball after all.)
“I’m sorry, Keish, what were you saying? I was busy flirting with Taty.”
“So I noticed. I also noticed that Jace is rather studiously ignoring you both.”
Caden grinned. “He knows I’m not serious. And she’s not serious. And that we both know the other isn’t serious. Besides, it was her idea.”
I raised an eyebrow at Taty.
“A full week in Adya without my parents-- if I were to come home without even the barest flirtation, Kelly Minn would never forgive me,” she said earnestly. “It’s harmless.” She took Caden’s arm and drew him away. “Now let me tell you more about my dress…”
I shook my head.
“I know,” Jace said, suddenly beside me. “It’s ridiculous, but she’s insistent.” He shrugged. “I trust Caden, though. For the most part.”
I chuckled, watching as Caden dutifully studied the sketch Taty had gotten from Annette.
“Is she ruining Father with that dress?” Jace asked lightly.
I laughed. “Of course not. Taty’s a perfectly sensible young woman with a healthy allowance.”
He gave me a look.
I smiled. “And I told Annette that I would be taking care of any extra cost incurred to finish it by Thursday. After all, Taty, Nysa and I are going shopping to the Spring Market Wednesday afternoon and it wouldn’t do for Taty to have spent all her money beforehand.”

March 14th
By lunch time today, Liop and Keaton had already dragged Master Zart to Tish’s laboratory, the science museum and back again. I think he’s beginning to realize what he’s in for this week.
After lunch Nysa gave them a magic lesson-- after she and I discussed age-appropriate spells. It was an interesting discussion. Her work with Gretel seems to have made her less upset about Liop and magic, but we still disagreed on several points.
Like fire. Though after yesterday’s incident with the fireworks I think I won that argument more easily than I would have otherwise. It seems like a bad idea to teach them to start fires after yesterday. (Yesterday they were using the matches Tulson sent Jace. Those have been confiscated and hidden, naturally.)

March 15th
I’ve told Master Zart he may as well suspend lessons that do not involve science for the rest of Liop’s visit. The boys insisted on observing Tish’s final exams today, and she agreed so long as they remained quiet.
Master Zart told them to take notes if they had any questions. I think they each filled all of the paper they took with them.
My finals are going well, but I shall be very glad to be done with them. I just have to get through tomorrow morning.
I had a break for lunch today, and while I ate Taty and Malia looked at more sketches than I’ve seen since Gretel’s wedding planning. Except that these were rooms and furniture instead of dresses and flowers.
As Taty chattered on, I saw Caden walk past the breakfast room. I called out to him.
“Jace is in his practice yard getting ready for his finals tomorrow,” I informed him.
He nodded. “Yes I know. Actually I… I needed some advice. I was talking to your father.”
“Oh? Nothing serious, I hope.”
Caden shrugged. “Since there is a high likelihood that things will not go well Saturday, I felt there are certain matters I would like taken care of ahead of time.”
“Your inheritance from your grandfather.”
He nodded again. “Your father was kind enough to give me the name of his solicitor.”
“Master Warwick is a good man.”
Caden gave me a small smile before turning his attention to Taty and her monstrous pile of color options. Amazingly, he managed to flirt, pay attention to the details of her ideas, and get away in less than an hour.

Taty has finally talked Nysa into a dress, which I’m certain will mean Annette will be up all night tonight and probably tomorrow, but she says she doesn’t mind a bit. She’s thrilled to be able to experiment more in this style. Nysa’s is much less dramatic than mine or Taty’s, but it’s lovely.

March 16th
I wish you could have been with us at the Spring Market today, Arri. The weather was beautiful and Nysa, Taty and I had a beautifully relaxing afternoon.
Which was exactly what I needed after the last 2 ½ days.
Of course, since Taty and Nysa are having dresses made, none of us shopped much.
And since they both had fittings before dinner, I had two free hours to take Argentum out. He was nearly as anxious for the freedom as I was. I only wish Jace had been free. I think Argyros did too.
“You should have had Bryce ride with you so that she got the exercise,” Jace said later.
“I thought about it, but he seemed to have his hands full with Vanessa’s new filly.”
Jace laughed.
Vanessa’s filly has been the talk of the court for the past week. She insisted that she would train the poor horse herself and was nearly thrown for her troubles last week. Thankfully, she was disgusted with the situation and turned the horse over to Bryce and the other stable hands.

Master Zart found me in the library with Jace and Caden almost as soon as I’d returned.
“I thought you should see this, Lady Keish,” he said. He handed me a note.
Written in Keaton’s careful hand was the following:
We have gone to battle the Dragon of the Grove.
Do not worry-- we will be home in time for dinner and we will not leave palace grounds.
And of course the dragon is, in point of fact, imaginary.
-Keaton (and Liop)
“They’ve discovered my old nemesis,” I said with a laugh. “Someone’s been telling tales about my childhood.”
“Your father, I‘d imagine,” Jace said after taking the note from me and reading it.
“Should I go looking for them?” Master Zart asked. He looked worried. After the incident with the fireworks he hadn’t wanted to take his half day, but I’d insisted.
I shook my head. “No, they’ll be fine. I taught them both that simple calling spell for if they get into trouble and I‘m certain Brooksby didn‘t let them take any fireworks. Besides, I spent lots of time exploring the palace woods as a child. It’s perfectly safe.”
“Did you not have any friends?” Caden asked.
I shrugged. “There was Bryce.”
“Bryce? The stablehand?” he asked incredulously.
I smiled. “Well they just called him ‘boy’ then. His grandfather was the stable master and he was always underfoot. I think at some point his grandfather decided that sending him off with me took care of two problems at once. He made an excellent squire to my knight.”
Caden rolled his eyes. “Only you…” he muttered.
I chose to ignore him. “Do you know if they took Nozama?” I asked Master Zart.
He nodded. “Dylan says they took Zest as well. He wanted to go with them, but they insisted he stay with Thor.”
I shrugged. “Zest shouldn’t be any trouble. And she certainly knows her way home.”
Master Zart still looked concerned.
I put a hand on his arm. “If they aren’t back in a quarter hour, I’ll call for them.”
I didn’t have to call them. Within ten minutes Caden, who was sitting by the window, called Jace and I over. “The conquering heroes, I presume?” he said with a grin.
The library is quite high, of course, so it was hard to make out any details, but the two small figures had to be Liop and Keaton.
I reached for my opera glasses (which were luckily handy) and looked again.
And laughed as I haven’t laughed in quite some time.
Between the two boys, sitting regally on Zest’s back, was Nozama. In miniature armor.
Obviously I was right to be concerned about the boys learning to glamour.
I pushed a hint of magic toward them to determine what they’d done. It was a simple glamour, one that wouldn’t hold up to a close inspection, and it took both of them working together, but the details were impressive.
Jace and Caden both borrowed the glasses and laughed as well.
“Ah, if only Tish had an instant reflectagraphy device,” Caden said once he’d caught his breath.

At dinner the boys regaled us with the story of their adventure. Papa said it rivaled the stories I told as a child. I retorted that I hadn’t had a tamarin to star in my stories.
Caden ate with us again, continuing his ridiculous flirtation with Taty.
“How do you explain all this time away from home to your mother?” I asked him finally.
“She thinks I’m at my club, playing billiards and tavern games and generally reveling in the final vestiges of true bachelorhood,” he replied with a dramatic sigh. “At home I am on my most perfectly precise behavior, though I’m avoiding Stacia, of course. It’s been easy this week-- she’s been at the dressmaker’s daily.”
Taty giggled. (If I wasn’t certain neither of them were serious about their game, I’d almost be worried.) “Is that who that is? Annette has had quite the time of it, making certain she doesn’t see our dresses. She knows Keish is wearing hers Saturday and doesn’t want anyone else to get ideas and end up competing with Keish for attention.”
“You realize there simply must be dancing tomorrow night,” Caden informed me, jumping topics with his usual dizzying speed.
I raised an eyebrow. “And why must there be dancing?”
Caden looked affronted. “These lovely ladies insist they cannot extend their stay in order to attend my ball. Since they are depriving me of the opportunity to dance with them then, I insist that there must be dancing tomorrow.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Jace smiled at me. “I never turn down an opportunity,” he said.
I sighed, but I didn’t really mean it. “Constantly being forced into dancing… in my own home,” I said, shaking my head.
“I should think you’d enjoy it more, Keish,” Taty said. “You and Jace do it so well. And you always look so elegant.”
I allowed myself to be persuaded, of course.
“But what about music?” I asked.
Papa smiled. “Brooksby plays extremely well. He was often pressed into service accompanying my sister-in-law.”
I looked at Brooksby in surprise. “Brooksby, how have you hidden such talents?”
“I shall have to insist upon it, Brooksby,” Caden said before he could respond. “We can’t have Jace or I playing if we’re to be dancing.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know you always have my unwavering permission to tell him no,” I told Brooksby.
I was rewarded with a small smile. “Yes, my lady, but how could I say no to Mistress Tatyana?”
Taty beamed at him.
Keaton declared that the palace dance tutor will be thrilled about such practical application and Liop began listing every dance he could think of in every possible language. Jace finally had to remind him to breathe.
With the promise of spending the day at the museum tomorrow, the boys went off to bed willingly enough, though I’m certain the excitement kept them up for some time.
March 17th
What a day, Arri.
I think Tish and Caden were as excited about the museum as the boys were. Even Master Zart was more animated than normal.
As expected, they ran the rest of us ragged. Very quickly.
I think Taty lost interest before anyone else, with Nysa not too far behind. They had their final fittings, though, and left the rest of us not long after lunch. (A picnic at the museum. The boys were thrilled.)
My attention started to wander eventually also, and Master Zart noticed.
“Lady Keish, you’ve had a very long week. I’m sure the boys would understand if you left early,” he told me as the boys eagerly listened to Tish’s explanation of whatever contraption we were standing in front of.
I laughed. “I’m not sure they would even notice.”
Jace smiled and took my hand. “Let’s take that ride I missed yesterday.”
Master Zart nodded his encouragement, so with a quick goodbye to Tish and Caden (the boys had already run ahead to the next exhibit) we slipped away.
We had a splendid ride. The weather has been lovely-- much better than I expected. I feel a storm coming, but I think it’s still a few days away and until then I will simply enjoy the beauty of early spring.
Now I’m waiting to go down for the party.
Jace found me at my desk, writing, and leaned down to kiss my cheek. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in that gown.”
I smiled a little. “That’s because I haven’t worn it since Euan painted me in it. But it’s fairly simple and I promised Taty that I wouldn’t outshine her new dress tonight.”
Jace laughed. “I’m always glad to see my sister shine,” he said, pulling me up out of my chair, “but no simple gown will ever make you shine less, love.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that.”
Jace winked. “Of course not. But it’s true nonetheless.” He kissed my hands. “Where is my shining little sister?”
I indicated my dressing room. “Malia’s working her magic on them both. Nysa didn’t want the attention, but Taty is nothing if not insistent.”
Jace laughed a little at that, then frowned. “This isn’t about Caden, is it?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “You know that’s just a game to them both. Actually as I left the dressing room I heard her wondering when a certain Master Corey Gray will invite her to the opera so she can wear this dress.”
Jace blinked. “At least Corey has a good head on his shoulders,” he muttered finally.

March 18th
Taty and Nysa came out just as I was writing the above. Jace made all of the appropriate remarks and it was time to go down to the drawing room.
Caden and the boys were already there and Caden made a great fuss over both Taty and Nysa and their new dresses.
Both Keaton and Liop tried to follow his example, but they are just too young to pull off that level of flirtation and charm. For which we should probably be thankful.
Papa gave me a wink that clearly said he thought I looked lovely too before joining Caden in his praise of Taty and Nysa.
I was perfectly happy to let them have all the attention.
Tish arrived soon after, looking amazing. I’m not certain I’ve ever seen her in a gown.
I think Caden was thinking the same thing-- he stumbled just a bit over his greeting, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned his attentions back to Taty.
Dinner was simple, but impressive nonetheless, and true to his word, Caden had put together an entire table of ridiculously exotic treats for the evening.
I think the boys quickly consumed their weights in sugar, but what else are parties for?
Before long, Caden called for Brooksby and the dancing began. Brooksby is quite talented and played a wide range of dances.
We all danced and danced, trading partners with each new song. After a while, I decided to sit a few out. The fast waltz Jace and I had just finished left me breathless and dizzy.
I enjoyed watching everyone else dance. Nysa was dancing with Keaton and Liop was dancing with Tish. Papa was clapping and clearly enjoying himself.
When Jace cut in to dance with Taty, Caden came over to sit by me.
“Was that a subtle hint to tone down your flirtation?” I asked mischievously.
Caden laughed. “I doubt it, actually.” He was quiet a moment. “Jace is a good friend.”
I gave him a questioning look.
“I think if I actually had intentions toward Taty… well, Jace would take me seriously.” He laughed. “I think he’d even give his blessing. Maybe.”
I laughed with him. “Maybe, indeed.”
“But, it’s not at issue. As I told Jace yesterday, I’ve decided that without a doubt, I’m not marrying a woman under 20.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Taty’s a wonderful girl, and I’ve enjoyed our little game, but she is definitely too young.”
I smiled. “I doubt Jace argued that point.”
“No, of course not.” He gave me a crooked grin as the dance ended. “Now Nysa, on the other hand…”
“I’m not calling you uncle.”
He laughed as he left my side to claim Nysa’s hand for the next dance.
We all stayed up ridiculously late. The boys eventually more or less collapsed and Jace and Caden carried them to their room.
Once we’d all decided it was truly time to go to bed, Jace and I went upstairs to find Hermes waiting with your letter.
I started to open it, but Jace plucked it from my hand. “Arri will understand if that waits until morning.”
“Later this morning, you mean?” I asked him with a laugh.
He nodded, turning me toward my dressing room and giving me a little push.
“Bossy,” I told him over my shoulder.
Jace just laughed.

Now that I’ve written everything about last night and read your letter, though, I can respond to it. Liop, Taty and Nysa will be leaving this afternoon, but I doubt anyone else has stirred much yet this morning.
Caden is bound to pop up before then, so I’ll give him Mendel’s test when he does. I refuse to even attempt it myself.
While you don’t have time to worry about Mendel and flying machines, I am too tired to even contemplate it. I did read that to Jace as he was leaving to finish his finals, though, and he is highly amused.
I do not know what type of chickens Keaton wants, but I do know that Liop has been helping him with his proposal. I think they’ve conned Master Zart into another trip to the chicken coops later this morning.
Yes, Tish did say something about the cell expanding too quickly if you passed too much air into it. And Keaton and Liop have been learning all about osmosis this week, so I’ve heard all about that. It is interesting how the cells respond to water that way.
It’s also interesting that you can’t banish the bacteria from the slide. I wonder why.
Nysa and I have talked about Gretel’s magic and we found a couple of sound-related spells in the library. Nysa says Gretel is very determined indeed.
I’m glad to hear that Beagan’s knighthood ceremony went well, though it does seem a little unfair for Corey not to have had some similar recognition. What he did was very important too. Perhaps I’ll have to send him a shield also.
I wonder what sort of object T’ay could be. If only someone could figure out how to translate the rest of the document.
Taty will be thrilled to hear that Mendel drew up the townhouse yesterday. She and Malia have agreed to continue their scheming (my word) through correspondence, so Malia will use the blueprints as a reference.
Later
Caden is delighted with Mendel’s test.
“Could you pass it yourself?” I asked him.
He gave me a pained look. “It’s not for me to take.”
“So you couldn’t then.”
He just scowled at me.
Nysa, Taty and Liop have left. Keaton is quite low this afternoon as a result. Master Zart finally offered to take him to Tish’s lab to cheer him up, but Keaton declined, saying he’d work on his language assignment instead. Apparently Master Zart had him make a list of interesting words he heard Liop use while he was here. It’s quite the list. Keaton had to come borrow a better dictionary.
I hope your break has been both quiet and productive. I should be grading finals, but I refuse. Instead I’m going out to the stables. I’ve already sent word to Jace to meet me there as soon as his last final is concluded.
Tomorrow Malia and I will see what can be done about my garden and Jace and I will attend Caden’s ball.
This letter is quite long enough, though, so I shall have to start a new one for that. It promises to be a very interesting evening.

Love Always,

Keish

See Keish's Dress

See Taty's and Nysa's

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Arri- March 7, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

March 7, 2005
Dear Keish,

“I think Mendel’s planning to build a flying machine,” Gordo confided in me today after his last study session with Liop before Liop leaves for Adya.
“Why do you think that?” I asked.
“Why else would his intelligence test include questions about navigation and height measurements?” Gordo asked.
I hadn’t thought of it that way. It was a troubling idea.
“I think he was just being slapdash,” I said.
“Maybe,” Gordo agreed, but he looked doubtful.
This is crazy. I don’t have time to worry about Mendel and flying machines.

March 8th
I have your letter. I don’t think I will tell Liop about having the museum to himself for a day. I will let you surprise him. He’s going to be so excited!
What kind of chickens does Keaton want? I’ve seen so many varieties at fairs. Some of them don’t look like chickens at all! The funny thing is that you never actually see fancy chickens on real farms. It makes me wonder where the fancy chickens came from…
Nothing new to report about the name glyphs. Brynn says research of this sort takes time and we should be patient.
Passing air into and out of a cell would be tricky. If you passed too much, the cell would probably explode. I will talk to Master Grant about Tish’s suggestions and wait for her letter with more details. The easiest substance to pass in and out of a cell is water. This process is called osmosis. Many experiments involving no magic at all have been performed on this subject. It’s all about the density of the water outside the cell membrane compared to the water density inside the cell. The water wants to move from areas of high density to areas of low density until both sides of the membrane become equal. It’s kind of like setting a wet washcloth on a dry one. The dry washcloth absorbs water from the wet one until the amount of water in both washcloths is more or less equal. I don’t know why cells are like that, but they are.
So far I cannot banish bacteria from a slide. I have tried, but the cells seem to just ignore magic. Master Grant says a future experiment will involve performing magic on increasingly smaller living organisms to see what the smallest size organism is that normal magic will affect.
Nysa is still having Gretel perform traditional awareness exercises, but she has added experiments in which Gretel tries to detect the magic in verbal spells as Nysa recites them. They haven’t had any success yet, but Gretel is determined. She seems to see this as her own personal battle.
Gretel is sending Father’s pocket watch with Liop who has promised to guard it carefully but not to cast any spells on it in case he interferes with your ability to use it in the location spell. I think you are very brave to allow Nozama to come with him. Uncle Winthrop is going to keep Coulter. I think he wants the company.

March 9th
Mendel says he will be delighted to draw up a floor plan of the Prens’ townhouse. Gordo has volunteered to help with the measurements. They will draw up the plan as soon as finals are over and mail it to you. Unfortunately, that’s going to be toward the end of Taty’s visit with you. In the meantime, I can tell you that the Pren townhouse consists of three floors. The first floor contains the kitchen, dining room, parlor, and servants’ quarters. The second floor contains the three bedrooms and a small sitting room off the master bedroom. The attic contains Sir Pren’s office and storage. Actually, now that I think about it, Taty could tell you that, if you don’t already know it…
Gordo’s still deciding what his major will be, but I think he has ruled out any of the sciences. He wants something practical that will make a good career. Right now he is contemplating following Mendel into architecture.

March 12th
Master Beagan Bastion Brio was knighted today. King Trunsle and Queen Elspeth held a formal ceremony with a luncheon afterwards. Most of the royal family was in attendance, although the Duke and Duchess of Lowell were absent. It was elegant sitting at long tables in the court room to eat with the ancient tapestries and thrones. King Trunsle gave a speech about courage in the face of danger. The sword he used to knight Beagan was then presented to him along with Brynn’s shield. Sir Beagan’s title is more honorary since he isn’t really going to enter the army or become a practicing knight. He was very excited about the whole thing. He loves the shield. He called it a work of art and said he wouldn’t dare even to joust with it for fear of causing damage. Master Corey is a little jealous, but not so much that he can’t be happy for Beagan. Beagan said that the next time someone with a knife threatens the Queen that Corey is more than welcome to do the fighting. Corey said he isn’t going anywhere without a knife ready from now on. In this way he will be better prepared than Beagan was.

March 16th
I took my last final today. I don’t know how they went. I’ve been so stressed out and finding time to study this term has been so difficult. It’s a relief to know that I have a few days until classes start again on the 21st. I have exactly four days without any obligations. Taty isn’t around, so I don’t even have any social engagements. I’m going to take Sprigs out every morning for a good, long ride. The weather is beautiful! Brynn calls it the calm before the storm. I’m not going to worry about that. I’m going to spend my afternoons going over the notes I’ve taken and working on a cure for Father. For once, I’m going to follow Master Ujifil’s advice and study just one subject at a time.
This evening I received a note. Various translators have decided that one of the names, Ta’y is probably an object, or at least not a person. Sen’a might be my father, Captain Etautca, or it might also be Captain Stoddart. They aren’t sure which, because they aren’t sure whether the context of the letter is now or in the past. The last name remains a complete mystery. What the documents have to say about all these names is also still a mystery.
I have a letter from Liop. He is having a wonderful time with you! I’m so glad he was able to go. It sounds like Nysa and Taty are also enjoying themselves. Part of me wishes I had gone, and part of me is glad that I’m here with Gretel where things are relatively quiet.
It’s strange. It’s been almost two weeks since my last letter and I’ve been so busy that I’ve hardly had time to write, and yet now that I’m sitting here with plenty of time, I find that there isn’t much to tell. I doubt you want me to recite everything I’ve memorized or the essay on the political ramifications of the Drought of 1913 that I wrote for my Elcaran History class. Even Mendel has been hard-pressed to find time for much mischief. Although he sent Lorenzo over with a letter for you containing his “Pre-qualification Exam for Matrimony,” which he assures me no young lady has been able to pass yet. (Really, I think he just wrote it because Caden asked for it. I don’t think it existed before.) He wants to make sure Caden gets it before the ball. Tomorrow he and Gordo will draw out the Prens’ townhouse. Then Mendel will take off for Odsreq to spend time with his family. Unfortunately, Gordo lives too far from home to do the same.
I’m going to send this letter now, as you are probably wondering why you haven’t heard from me in so long. I hope all went well with your finals!

Love,
Arri

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Keish- March 5, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

March 5, 2005
Dear Arri,
Taty’s latest letter hints strongly at the possibility of Malia returning to Rousha with her.
Since I refuse to do without Malia, Jace has hit upon an excellent idea-- could Mendel draw up the Pren townhouse? I know he has finals coming up too, but it’s not terribly large. Especially if he only did the public rooms.
Malia was there with us in July, of course, but if Mendel drew up the blueprints for Taty then she and Malia could use them as a reference and design to Taty’s heart’s content.
What do you think? What does Mendel think?

Euan stopped me in the courtyard yesterday.
“Keish!” he exclaimed as though running into an old friend. (Clearly he’s delusional on that score.) “Are you ready to give up teaching to become my model yet?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Oh? But of course, you must be wondering how much time I could have for painting as Prince Regent.”
“Actually, no. I hadn’t heard that King Menion had made an announcement,” I said innocently.
Euan laughed lightly. “Well of course he hasn’t. He’s waiting for my 21st birthday, naturally.”
“I see. Then I guess we’ll all know soon enough. Good day, Your Highness.”
I fought to control it, but I was laughing by the time I reached the tower library. This meant I had to explain the encounter to Jace and Caden.
“Euan’s delusions know no bounds,” Caden said, rolling his eyes.
“There would be advantages to us if Euan was made Prince Regent-- he’d leave Adya,” I pointed out.
“Yes but his poor subjects,” Jace responded, shaking his head.
I agreed. I don’t think I could subject anyone to Euan that way. Even if it would get rid of him.

Caden was in the library to explain that the science museum will be closed on March 17th.
I frowned. “Liop will be disappointed.”
Jace laughed. “Not at all, my dear. Let Caden finish.”
Caden grinned broadly. “The museum will be closed to all but a private party. My private party, to be precise.” He considered. “Well, Jace’s. I had to use his name to avoid suspicion. After all, I can get myself in without anyone taking notice, but it would be hard to smuggle the rest of you in.”
“Yes, I suppose it would,” I said with a laugh.
“A whole day. Tish has already promised to come. Liop can chatter away in whatever language he pleases. I expect the boys will run the rest of us ragged.” He sounded positively gleeful.
“You seem to have developed quite the passion for science as well,” I pointed out.
He nodded. “I admit, I’m fascinated. Tish has the most interesting ideas… not to mention the inventions and equipment! In fact, I have a favor to ask.”
Jace raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that?”
Caden seemed suddenly less sure of himself. “Well it’s… You see, Tish and I have agreed to an exchange of sorts. I want to learn more about reflectagraphy and science in general and she wants to write articles for scientific journals. So she said she’ll teach me if… well, if I teach her to write articles like that.”
“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” I said, “but we’re still waiting to hear the favor.”
He squirmed a little. “We were hoping to use your drawing room as a classroom. People are already beginning to ask about how much time I spend in her labs.”
Jace shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’s not exactly being used.”
“Of course you’ll have Keaton begging to stay for every science lesson,” I pointed out.
Caden grinned. “But of course.”

Later
Having performed every experiment he could think of on eggs from the kitchen-- we’ve had to lay in a good supply to keep up-- Keaton declared that he wanted to visit the palace chicken coops.
Master Zart agreed only after Keaton studied the basic biology of eggs and the lifecycle of chickens. Keaton completed that assignment this morning, so off they went.
As a result of their adventure, Keaton has decided he wants to try raising chickens himself.
He raised the subject with Jace and me over dinner this evening. (Though thankfully not over the chicken course!)
It certainly caught me off guard-- I had no idea what to tell him. Jace seemed equally speechless.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Master Zart (who dines with us when pressed) cleared his throat delicately. “Perhaps, if I may make a suggestion, perhaps Master Keaton could do some research and write up a proposal as to the details of raising chickens? Then a decision could be made based on that?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Jace responded. “Maybe Tish and Caden can help you, Kea. It would fit right in with their lesson exchanges.”
Rather than seeming discouraged, Keaton’s eyes glowed at the idea. It was rather like Liop with a new spell or alchemical trick. The idea of writing a serious proposal certainly isn’t going to deter him at all.
Which probably means there are chickens in my future.

Mar. 6th
I have your letter, as well as a letter from Brynn. Of course since it came by regular post it has no more information than what she told you. Hopefully someone can make more sense of that dialect now that they can look for the Senum glyphs. At least they’ve been able to use the names to learn something from Bradford.
Tish promises to look through all of her old copies of Troilubus Iconetha to look for more clues for you. She did suggest focusing on something specific, such as air, and trying to prevent it from entering the cell or being absorbed by it. I don’t know if you’ve tried that or not, but I thought I’d pass it along. Tish says she’ll write you herself with ideas but that it will likely be after finals next week before she can do so.
I suppose that will suit you fine also, since Master Grant has put off further work until the next term. It is disappointing, but with finals you’ll certainly stay busy.
If the anti-dust spell only worked on non-living particles, could you modify it to be an… anti-bacteria spell? Can you banish the bacteria from the microscope slide? I suppose that might not be useful, but still.
I’m sorry it’s so tedious. I shouldn’t like to repeat anything that many times. I do understand, though. Spells can be the same way, depending on their complexity. That’s the main problem with the Bellington ward, after all.
I shall be very very interested to learn what Nysa makes of Gretel’s magic. It sounds so different from what we’re used to, and I’ve no idea what limits there would be to a purely aural magic. From what Trena said, though, Gretel has likely gained a healthy measure of Brio magic in the bargain. Who knows what that will do to her natural abilities. We Brios are nothing if not unpredictable.
Caden is taken with the idea of taking a reflection of a cell. He and Tish both came to lunch today and I told them about it.
Tish is doubtful-- something about the lenses interfering with each other-- but Caden wants to try it. Tish agreed reluctantly, but only after finals.
Caden and Jace are both highly amused by Mendel’s intelligence test idea.
“I have serious doubts about Stacia’s ability to pass such a thing, though,” Caden said. “What about you, Keish? Would you pass?” he teased.
“Well it’s too late for Jace either way,” I retorted.
Jace grinned at me. “Who says I didn’t have a test of my own?” He touched my cheek. “Of course you passed with flying colors, love.”
Caden rolled his eyes and said he would like a copy of Mendel’s test, if only for his own amusement.
Tish was not at all impressed by our explanations of why “no young lady in her right mind” would marry Mendel. I don’t think that kind of inheritance system holds as much weight in Iconei.
As for Mendel’s treatment of his essay-- it was certainly creative but I sincerely hope no student of mine ever thinks of it. Essays are difficult enough to grade as it is.

Your father’s pocket watch should be perfect. Since it’s another item your father wore or carried regularly, the harmonics should vastly simplify any divination. Even if Imato has carried it too, sorting out his influences should be easy enough. I’ll have to track down the most detailed maps of the area I can find to use as well. It’s one thing to use a location spell to locate something Blaze has made off with; it’s quite another to divine the location of something in a large desert I’ve never seen.

I’m sorry the Chronicle is not providing you with more useful information. I’m afraid I have no advice to give.
If there’s nothing in there that you haven’t tried, is there anything that springs to mind that they didn’t try?
(Never mind, that’s not only unhelpful it’s downright nonsensical.)

It does seem to always be a gamble registering for new courses. Your second choices all sound very useful though. Tish says if you take Iconese she’ll write you simple letters in that language to help you practice.

Jace finds the kinds of details Gretel wants very funny.
“Does she realize that those are probably exactly the kinds of details he doesn’t write for fear of sounding frightfully dull?” he asked with a smile.
“I doubt she does, but I’m sure you’re probably correct. Perhaps it’s a case of no news being good news? If the food were awful I imagine he’d have commented on it.”
Jace laughed. “Yes I’m sure he would have. Maybe I’ll suggest he give more of the mundane in his letters the next time I write him.”
If it makes Gretel feel any better Imato doesn’t write about any of that to Jace or me either. The magical theory in his letters is enough to make one’s eyes cross usually though.

Keaton is also counting down the days. He’s even made me perform some basic weather divination (after I told him it was too advanced a spell for him to try himself) to ensure that no unexpected storm will delay Liop’s arrival.
Have no fear-- the weather looks just fine.

I want to hear all about Beagan’s knighthood, of course. Brynn has been too busy to deliver the shield to him personally, but she sent it by messenger. I hope he liked it. It would be impractical for the battlefield, of course, with the decorative edging and shape, but a jousting shield seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

One more week before finals. All of my tests are created and Cass has worked out all of the testing schedules. My finals are the 14th-16th, Jace’s are the 14th, 16th and 18th, Tish’s are the 14th, 15th and 18th. Math and history finals are the 16th-18th.
I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to keep all of that straight. How Cass does it I may never know.
All of this means, of course, one more week of extra lessons, tutoring and general last-minute panic.
Then three days of finals (well, for me), grading finals, and starting our last term of the year.
Oh, and then Master Byra wants to start talking about long-term sustainability and next year’s curriculum. With Lord Salazar no longer interfering it is almost certain that the King’s Council will vote to continue our program.
Such news is exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time.

There’s just not much else to say today, Arri. Unless you want to hear all about devising questions for finals, which I rather doubt.

Love Always,

Keish

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Arri- February 28, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 28, 2005
Dear Keish,

I’ve taken pages and pages of notes as Master Grant and I try different types of spells on the bacteria. Our results are identical to those obtained by the scientists and magicians in Inconei. In some ways it makes us feel like we are as competent in our work as they are. In other ways, it is frustrating, because we want to find a spell that works. To get statistically viable results we must perform the exact same experiment hundreds of times. It gets very tedious. Sometimes I feel that the Winged Lioness is right and more information is just more information, but then when I think about it some more, I realize that I can be a lot more confident about research that has been tested many times than something that was only done once or twice. If something has been done hundreds of times with the same results, then probably it will always have the same results. Master Grant says to be careful about that though, because the variables have to be the same every time and sometimes there are variables you don’t know are there. Testing the same thing hundreds of time can reveal those variables.
Unfortunately, all that doesn’t make it less tedious. Sometimes it’s as tedious as Master Ujifil’s awareness exercises. I think he would like biology, if he ever tried it.

March 1st
Brynn arrived unexpectedly at the townhouse this evening. I put away my studying and Gretel put away her quilting to meet her.
“Well, we know four of the names,” she informed us without preamble, “Y’low, of course is Bradford. Then there were two more easy ones: P’Le is captain of the Grestian army. We know him as Captain Pelei in Elcaro. A’ter is what we call Aitero, the city where Greste maintains a training camp for its armies. It’s about a five-day carriage journey west and a little north of Siskyil. The third one was harder to obtain: K’Lei has been working as a butler for Sergeant Kesler of the 3rd division for the past five years. He’s been using the name Toris Jay. One of the court magicians tricked Bradford out of that one, but he was unsuccessful at getting anything from him about the remaining three names.”
“That’s a good start though,” said Gretel.
“King Trunsle has put out a request for anyone with knowledge of Sunem to report to the court,” said Brynn, “If there are any more cities or persons of power in the Grestian government, we should be able to uncover those names quickly. Hopefully the court magicians will be able to get more obscure name out of Bradford or Jay.”
“I’m wondering how much information Jay was able to pass to Greste during the last five years,” said Gretel.
“It is disturbing,” agreed Brynn, “but they have him in custody now, so at least he won’t get any more information.”

March 3rd
I received your letter yesterday evening. That Bradford had an escape route makes the most sense of anything that has been suggested so far. He doesn’t strike anyone as a suicidal person, so he must have expected to live. It’s frightening to think about how easily he might have succeeded if you hadn’t detected him.
Having decided that she wants to learn magic, Gretel has commandeered Nysa completely. Actually, I think she’s grateful. It gives her an even stronger excuse to turn over Uncle W.’s bookwork to someone else. I don’t really have time for it like I used to, so Uncle W. has hired a part-time clerk. Sales of fireworks are up and his income will allow for an employee. To start with Nysa is teaching Gretel awareness exercises, since you have to be aware of your magic to be able to use it. Gretel says her sympathy for me is growing daily as she spends hours trying to feel her magic. Nysa is so delighted to have a willing pupil that she doesn’t mind that nothing has worked so far and is perfectly patient with Gretel in her efforts. Oddly enough, Liop has begun asking questions about magic again. Maybe he misses the attention.
Master Grant and I would welcome any thoughts from Tish on the subject of cytology. Master Grant also wonders what would happen if you held a reflectography machine up to microscope, if it would make a reflection of a cell. He has a friend who is working on a master’s in chemistry and he’s going to suggest it as a joint project for next school year.
Divination is probably the only way we could possibly find Father’s talisman after so many years. Imato has a pocket watch that belonged to Father, and fortunately it isn’t in the Etautca safe. Gretel knows where it is, so she will get and we can send it to you.
I mentioned Caden’s problems with his mother to Mendel and Gordo the other day. He laughed.
“And I thought my parents have unreasonable expectations,” Mendel said, shaking his head slowly, “I’m not sure it’s occurred to my mother that having me marry would make me a more suitable companion for Tulson. I don’t think I’ll suggest it. Fortunately, no young lady in her right mind would agree to marry me anyway.”
“Stacia Pastile might,” Gordo grinned at him.
“I’ll keep her in mind,” said Mendel, “However, I’ve decided that I won’t marry anyone who can’t pass a basic intelligence test.”
“Really?” Gordo was intrigued, although I could tell he expected a joke.
“What will be on the test?” I asked.
“Geography,” said Mendel, “I can’t risk my future wife getting lost. She must have excellent navigational skills. After all, I intend to be an architect, and what I build will never have been built before.”
Gordo and I looked at each other in confusion.
“And math,” Mendel added, “my wife must be able to calculate the height of a tree based on its shadow.”
“Why?” asked Gordo.
“So she knows whether or not it’s a danger to air traffic.”
Neither of us had the slightest idea what to say to this.
“You can let Caden know that I’d be happy to send him a copy of the test for his own use. I personally guarantee that the woman who can pass it is worth marrying,” Mendel concluded proudly.
I agreed to pass that information along to you. Don’t ask me what it means.

March 4th
I have tried so many times, asking as many different ways as I can think of to get the Chronicle to show me a spell to heal Father. Half the time it opens up to the entries I made about the life of Trena. The other half of the time it opens up to journal entries made by Leland, many of which describe his attempts to heal his father Guthrie. He didn’t try anything that I haven’t tried.
In addition to finals, it is also time to decide what classes to take next term. After the last two terms I find myself wondering why the university even bothers asking freshman what courses they want to take, since they seem to mostly disregard the list. However, I requested Basic Biology, course 2; College Algebra 2; Anatomy, course 2; and College Writing, course 2. For second choices I have Medical Biology (which Master Grant says is less strenuous than the two Basic Biology courses); Iconese, course 1; Introduction to Alchemy; and Elcaran History, course 2.

“What did you do for that essay we turned in yesterday?” Gordo asked Mendel as we sat down to lunch, “I overheard Dr. Freyvogel say something about it being unreadable.”
“It’s readable,” said Mendel, “you just need a mirror.”
We both blinked at him.
“What did you do?” repeated Gordo, grinning.
“Well, it was an essay on the importance of creativity in writing, right?” said Mendel, “However, when I reread what I’d written it was rather lacking in central element.” Mendel paused. “So I copied it out in mirror image. That should satisfy the professor’s desire for creativity, don’t you think?”
“It is creative,” I admitted, uncertainly. Gordo laughed.
It was time to decide our study schedules for finals. Philosophy, writing, and literature were not classes that required much memorization. Gordo wanted Mendel to go over his algebra work with him and had plans to practice Iconese with Liop up until they leave for Adya. We decided to take turns quizzing each other on history, anatomy, and chemistry facts.
“You’re forgetting biology,” said Mendel.
“No, I thought I’d ask Master Grant to go over that one with me,” I said.
“Taking up a lot of his time, aren’t you?” asked Mendel.
I reddened slightly.
“We’ve been helping each other,” I said defensively.
“Yes, that’s true,” Mendel acknowledged, “but if he doesn’t have time, Gordo and I can help.”
“Thanks,” I said. Mendel shrugged and changed the subject.
Later that day, I went to Master Grant’s laboratory to ask him about the studying.
“Miss Etautca,” he said before I could say anything, “I’m very glad you dropped by. Would you cast an anti-dust spell on this slide for me?”
I cast the spell and watched as Master Grant peered at it through the microscope.
“All the non-living particles are gone,” he commented, “but the spell failed to impact the bacteria on the slide.”
“Can I see?” I asked. He slid the microscope in my direction and I looked through it.
“It’s what I expected to happen,” he murmured, “but we should do this a number of additional times. I’d like to get some statistical results.”
I nodded, distracted by watching the living cells.
“Miss Etauctca?” he interrupted gently. I looked up.
“I was wondering if we could postpone our meetings until spring term begins? I have some personal things I’d like to do over the break.”
“Anything you need help with?” I asked.
He smiled, amused.
“No,” he said, “but, thank you for asking. I wish you luck on your finals, Miss Etautca. I will see you the first week of spring term and we can work out our new schedule.”
“Okay,” I said, disappointed. I gathered up the notes I had taken over the last couple weeks of research and left.

Liop is literally counting the days to when he can come visit you. They will all leave on the ninth. Taty is equally excited. I wish I could come. It sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun. I will have to wait until summer though, and then only if Gretel is able to travel since I don’t think Imato would approve of my leaving her despite having an excellent doctor to see her. Even his letter about the Bellington ward managed to contain three pages of admonitions and advice, (some of which, admittedly, came from Sir Aoweir). There was only one page describing the ward and a paragraph explaining why he didn’t think he would ever be able to create it again. His last letter came today and only briefly mentioned the weather (no snow). Most of it was dedicated to descriptions of how many weapons were gathered up after the battle and the number of carts it took to haul it all away. He also speculated briefly on whether he would get leave from Sergeant Levine to search for Father’s talisman, assuming you are able to narrow down a location to search in. Gretel complains that he says nothing about his day-to-day life. She worries about what he is eating and how he is staying warm. She has decided to address a letter to Master White on the matter. Maybe he will tell her what she wants to know. Unfortunately, this letter will have to travel by regular mail.

This is a much shorter letter than I’ve written in a long time, but there really isn’t much to say this week. I hope that things are going well with school. I imagine it must be just as hard to create a test as it is to take it.

Give my love to everyone!
Love, Arri

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Keish- February 23, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 03 Sep 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 23, 2005
Dear Arri,
Brynn received a small packet from Rousha today, containing copies of several of the Grestean documents as well as an attempted translation of one.
Once Jace and I finished with our classes this afternoon Caden joined us in our library as Brynn spread the pages across the table.
I picked up the “translation” but tossed it aside again only a moment later. “The translation makes no sense to me.”
Jace picked it up and glanced over it. “Rather like Liop’s translation of Arri’s scientific article probably. Except that in this case the problem is a difficult dialect rather than a difficult concept. Fairly useless to us at any rate.”
Caden was studying one of the Grestean documents intently. He picked up another, comparing them, then reached for a third.
“Something you’d like to share?” Brynn asked, amused.
“I’m not sure,” he said absently, “but it’s possible…” He thrust a page at Jace and me. “Does this look like Sunem to you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ask me.”
Jace was studying the part Caden had pointed out but Caden gave me an odd look.
I shrugged. “No one ever wrote spells in Sunem and no tutor ever managed to interest me in a language no one had written spells in, practicing magic or not. Not even Master Sian.”
Caden rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to pointing things out to Jace. “See this symbol? Doesn’t that look like…”
“A Sunem name glyph,” Jace finished for him. “Yes, I think you might be right.”
“And a southern Grestean sand tribe having a dialect that incorporates a little Sunem makes sense,” Caden continued excitedly. “Geographically, I mean.”
“If it’s a Sunem name glyph why hasn’t anyone else noticed?” I asked.
“Probably because no one is quite as obsessed with Sunem as Nathan Sian,” Brynn said with a small smile.
“You know Master Sian?” Caden asked.
“Of course. He was one of Ellean’s many suitors.”
My eyebrows shot up. I certainly hadn’t known that about my ancient languages tutor.
Caden seemed somewhat less surprised. “There are dozens of stories about why she chose Lord Leilani over so many other suitors.”
“They fell in love,” I answered simply.
“At first sight?” Caden teased.
Brynn laughed. “I think at first Ellean encouraged him purely to be unpredictable. There were a couple of young ladies visiting her when she received flowers from him for the first time. Their shock… inspired her.”
Jace laughed too. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He picked up another document, finding another glyph. “There are at least four different glyphs so far.”
I picked up the last few pages. “Show me what you mean and I’ll mark them lightly. Then the two of you can sort out how many there are and Brynn can copy them on fresh paper.”
“And then someone should take them to Nathan Sian,” Brynn added. “If we can translate several names if should give King Trunsle’s interrogators some new questions to ask.”
Caden nodded. “It will have to be tomorrow-- all of the palace tutors are at Darmoth today. And I think it should be Jace.”
Jace raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“My uncle doesn’t want too many people involved in these investigations since we still don’t know the extent of what’s going on, so none of us can just go to him and explain the situation. But you, Jace-- you can say you came across the glyphs in an old manuscript from Elcaro. You teach Elcaran history, so that wouldn’t be strange. You could even say it was something about Greste and that the glyphs were the only part you couldn’t translate yourself.”
I nodded. “That could work. As long as he doesn’t think the manuscript is actually in Sunem, because then he’d demand to see it.”
Jace shrugged. “Okay then. I’ll go first thing in the morning. And if he is curious I’ll put him off for now and we can explain it all to him when this is over. Or when the king approves his involvement.”
“I plan to leave Friday morning,” Brynn put in, “so provided it doesn’t take long to translate the glyphs I can take everything straight to King Trunsle.”
We got to work. I noted glyphs and passed the pages on to Jace and Caden who identified seven unique glyphs. Brynn copied each one down and gave the paper to Jace.
“Hopefully Master Sian can give us seven names,” Jace said brightly.
Caden gathered up all of the pages Brynn had received so he could show King Menion.
Our conversation had drifted to speculation about Bradford when Papa joined us.
“I still don’t understand why he would do something so brazen,” Caden was saying.
“Perhaps there was a spell of compulsion after all,” Papa suggested.
Brynn shook her head. “If Keish didn’t sense one then I have a hard time believing that one was in use.”
I gave her a crooked grin. “I am occasionally wrong.”
“Oh I know,” she responded dryly.
“I trust Keisha, but it’s true, a suicidal attempt like that does seem… pointless,” Jace said.
“Well, if we’re certain there was no spell compelling him then perhaps it was not actually suicidal,” Papa said. “Perhaps there’s something else we’re missing.”
“Like a magical escape route?” Caden asked, somewhat sarcastically.
Brynn and I stared at him and then at each other, eyes wide.
“That’s it,” Brynn said quietly.
I nodded. “There’s a good chance.”
“I was joking,” Caden said, baffled.
I laughed a little as pieces fell into place in my mind. “Beagan stopped him long before he reached the queen. What if he hadn’t intended to go straight to her?”
Jace cocked his head to one side, considering. “You mean he might have been going to another part of the tournament grounds?”
I nodded quickly, excited now. “To be seen there, no where near the queen.”
“And then a simple glamour,” Brynn continued, “while no one was paying attention.”
“Like during a joust,” Papa put in, “when everyone was focused on the knights.”
“Go to the queen and…” I trailed off, not wanting to put it into words.
“And he wouldn’t have to escape, merely get out of sight for a few seconds,” Brynn added.
“Exactly. Drop the glamour, maybe misdirect the guards and ‘come running’ to see what’s happening,” I finished.
“He would have to be recognized by the guards to get onto the platform though,” Caden pointed out.
Brynn waved this away. “A glamour can be of anyone.”
“Sir Waldbauer,” Jace said softly.
We all stared at him and he shrugged. “It was the only thing that really didn’t make sense. Why would the FlyBy single him out if he really wasn’t involved? But to single him out as being opposed, even violently opposed, to women’s education…”
“And who has been the staunchest supporter of it in Rousha?” I finished.
“Queen Elspeth,” Brynn whispered. She shook her head as if to clear it. “I know Sir Waldbauer. He’s a good man. I wondered why the FlyBy would say such a terrible thing about him. How horrible.”
“I could be wrong,” Jace said, but none of us believed it. What he said made too much sense.
Brynn stood suddenly. “It’s getting late and I’d like to write all of this out for King Trunsle and then get some sleep.”
Caden followed her out, saying he would tell King Menion in the morning.
Papa and Jace went up to the observatory.
Left to myself I started this letter, but since it was in fact late then, as Brynn said, it is now even later and I must teach an early class tomorrow, so I’ll have to put this aside.

Feb. 25th
It was late last night before the much anticipated messenger came from Master Sian. He was able to give us translations for all seven names. Based on the placement of the various glyphs, Jace and Caden have decided which is most likely Bradford’s real name.
Brynn left this morning will copies of everything. With such important information in her possession, I think she intends to push hard and be in Rousha tomorrow evening.
Bradford’s name, if we are correct, is actually Y’low. The other names given were P’Le, Sen’a, A’Ter, K’lei, Mic’o and Ta’y.
Maybe we’ve found a small crack in Bradford’s armor.

Caden’s sister and brother-in-law arrived in Adya today. They’re here to present Stacia at court. Caden is trying to think of a way out of it, but aside from running away from home I think he’s stuck.

Feb. 26th
I have your letter.
I’m sorry. About your father, your head, missing class…. Mostly that it didn’t heal him.
Of course, this also means that Imato will have another reason to be irritated at me for drawing you into the spell. Nevermind that it was you who called Uncle Quin. Nevermind that we’d have failed if you hadn’t.
I’m glad you talked to Trena. Even if it ended up putting more pressure on you. Now that she’s thinking about how to heal your father maybe she’ll help you find the answer more quickly. At least she’s having better luck than I-- no divination I try will show me anything about you healing your father. I just know you will.
I heard about Beagan’s intended knighthood. We sent a knight’s shield with Brynn for him.
After being told by Imato to keep an eye on you I’m not surprised Mendel was so concerned about you missing class.
I hadn’t thought of Nysa teaching Gretel. That could be interesting. At least it might give Nysa something else to do.
Jace declares he will address Mendel as “serf” from now on.
You can tell Gretel that she doesn’t need any spells to be just as controlling as I am. I didn’t put anyone through a trousseau.
It seems you and Master Grant have learned quite a lot, even if you haven’t quite worked out how to isolate the cells. I can see if Tish has any ideas if you’d like.
Good luck with finishing up the term. I’m sorry it’s so stressful. It was good of Master Renwick to include you. It’s easier to have a friend, or at least an ally.
I suppose I could try divining the location of the talisman. Maybe Nysa and Liop could bring something of your father’s for me to try?
Caden came in as I read the end of your letter to Jace. “Am I included in the everyone she’s giving her love to?” he asked mischievously.
“Watch what you say,” Jace advised. “You never know what could end up in a letter to Imato.”
Caden made a face at him. “And I only came to ask when Liop will be here,” he explained. “Though I’m not sure letting them stay in the museum would be safe… for the museum, I mean.”
I laughed. “It would certainly never be the same, would it? I think he’ll be here the 12th or so. They’re staying for a week.”
Caden rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. That means I still have time to plan how to spend time with those two imps without the whole court finding out,” he said as he left again.

Later
Caden’s mother gave him an ultimatum of sorts today.
She expects him to announce his engagement to an appropriate young woman at his birthday ball. If he has not come to a decision by then she will be happy to make the announcement for you.
“You don’t suppose I’m lucky enough to have been switched at birth, do you?” he asked Jace and me when he told us.
“Heavens, please don’t tell me you think you’re Euan,” I responded. “I’m not at all certain I could handle that.”
Jace and Caden both laughed.
After a moment Jace asked, “What are you going to do?”
Caden blew out his breath in frustration. “I don’t know.”
“Are you going to…”
“No!” Caden exclaimed before I could finish.
It took every ounce of restraint I possess to not laugh at his expression.
Jace put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got a few weeks to figure it out.”
Caden sighed. “Yes I suppose so. And of course you two are invited.”
I widened my eyes innocently. “Oh? Are we friends again?”
Caden laughed. “Unfortunately no. The king wants to see what gossip we can shake loose by having you there. And if Mother balks, which she certainly will, I can blame it on you being so obviously in Uncle’s favor. Can’t afford a slight like that, you know.” He shrugged. “Actually it saved me a fair bit of trouble. I was trying to decide if it should be a masquerade so that you could come in disguise. But since it’s one thing to conceal the fact that I was at your birthday dinner but quite another to conceal the king…” he shrugged again.
He still looked troubled, despite his laughter.
“You’ll think of something,” I said softly.
He nodded sharply. “I’ll have to.”
“Come on,” Jace said to him. “Sparring will help you work out some of that frustration. I’ll have Ryland fetch the mats and something lighter for you to wear. Meet us in the drawing room.”
Caden gave me an odd look as Jace left. “We’re going to spar in the drawing room?”
“On mats,” I said with a shrug. “Thick, heavy, woven mats. Imato and Jace used to set them up on rainy days.”
“I am not Imato.”
I laughed. “Truer words may never have been spoken.” I shooed him out the door. “Go on. It will do you good.”
He turned back to me in the hallway. “Lady Aoweir has been visiting more and more often…” he began slowly. “I… I won’t let my mother push me into that kind of marriage.”
He was gone before I could think of a suitable response.

Feb. 27th
Stacia Pastile’s presentation ball is tonight.
Since it is a full court even Caden is demanding that Jace and I attend.
“I need the moral support,” he whined at lunch.
“Of two people you won’t be able to talk to openly?” Jace asked, laughing at the desperation on Caden’s face.
“I have it on good authority that there will be several quadrilles. Just get close enough to me that I have to dance with Keish a couple of times. That’s how we’ll communicate.”
Jace just shook his head. “I don’t see what’s so frightening about a 17-year-old girl.”
“You think it’s a coincidence that my mother gave me that ultimatum the day after they arrived?” Caden asked, sounding panicked.
I stared at him. “You think that if you don’t make an announcement, your mother intends…”
“To announce Stacia,” Caden finished bitterly. “I don’t have proof, but I’m fairly certain.”
We were all silent a moment as that sunk in.
“I won’t marry her.”
I looked at Jace and sighed.
He nodded. “We’ll go,” he told Caden.
“Thank you,” Caden said in relief.
Since I hadn’t actually planned to attend I didn’t plan a wardrobe. Jace says to just wear the dress from my birthday. I think I’ll wear the mirror necklace too.

Feb. 28th
Well the ball wasn’t a complete disaster. That’s possibly the best I can say for it, though.
Jace and I were careful to avoid Lady Aoweir. I didn’t want to deal with her.
Caden’s panic escalated with each dance Stacia claimed was his. The girl’s manners are deplorable-- brazen didn’t begin to describe it.
By midnight Caden looked awful. Jace and I made up the quadrille set with him and one of Vanessa’s sisters, who were both looking daggers at Stacia by that point.
“Do something,” Caden hissed as soon as we switched partners.
I rolled my eyes. “What would you suggest? Would you like me to cause a scene?”
He considered this. “You could tell Jace to punch me.”
Obviously things were worse than I’d realized. “Are you really that desperate?”
“To leave this wretched ball?” he finished. “Yes, I am. I’ve had to dance with Stacia four times. Do you realize what this is doing to my reputation? Even if I were prepared to make an announcement at my birthday ball I‘d be hard-pressed to do so.”
Of course I had noticed how many times they’d danced. And the whispering that got worse each time.
I sighed. “If you really want me to do something….”
He nodded sharply as he passed me back to Jace.
“Caden does not look well,” Jace commented.
“He suggested that you punch him.”
Jace frowned. “That bad? Wow.”
“I’m going to help him. Once we change partners again. You might have to help him out when I’m done.”
Jace smiled a little as he realized what I had planned. “Very well, dear. If you think we can get away with such a public display.”
“If I can maneuver us closer to one of his brothers we won’t need to try it.”
Jace winked as we switched partners again.
“Well?” Caden demanded.
“Dance us a bit closer to Terrence or Gage and I’ll take care of it,” I said quickly. “Just remember you asked for it.”
As we passed close to Sir Terrence Viteri I closed my eyes briefly, gathering just enough magic to do what I needed without making it too bad. Then I opened my eyes and stared hard at Caden, hoping no one would realize the connection between my actions and Caden’s cry of pain.
He stumbled into Terrence, who grabbed him.
I stepped back in case Caden vomited. The spell causes a blinding headache, but I’ve never really used it before so I wasn’t sure what the extent of the symptoms would be.
The orchestra faltered as Caden was helped out of the ballroom.
Jace and I stayed just long enough to not draw attention, then hurried back to the tower. Jace sent Alexander to discreetly find out if Caden was okay. I had released the spell after only a few minutes, but I didn’t know if there would be lingering pain.
Alexander returned with a single line from Caden. “Warn me next time.”
“You didn’t tell him what you were going to do?” Jace asked with a laugh.
I shrugged. “It needed to be convincing enough to get Caden past his mother.”

Caden showed up during breakfast, assuring me that he was perfectly fine. “Not that I’ve told my family that, of course,” he added, helping himself to a heaping plate of food. “As far as they know I’ve locked myself in my room to sleep. I had to sneak out of the house.”
“We hear they even called in the family doctor,” Jace said. Alexander had mentioned it last night.
Caden nodded. “Yes. All he could come up with was that I must have eaten some bad food. I just hope Mother doesn’t make Aunt Jocasta fire the palace cooks.”
“Well no one else got sick,” I pointed out with a smile.
Caden laughed. “And I’ve never been so glad to feel ill in my life.”

March 1st
I have a staggering classload this week, Arri. With finals approaching we’re offering extra sessions of some classes as well as tutoring hours for anyone struggling. It’s certainly going to keep me busy.
We received a brief letter from Imato today. By the time he had Jace’s letter he had already come to the same conclusions about the Bellington ward. He’s frustrated about that, but at least it worked once.

I hope you’re classes aren’t making you as busy as mine are, but I’m sure they are. Try to sleep sometime, won’t you?
Love Always,
Keish

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Arri- February 22, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 22, 2005
Dear Keish,

Regaining consciousness was a slow, painful process. I was lying in a strange, hard bed with blankets all around me. Even the top of my head was covered. I cracked my eyes open. The room was dark except for a small flickering light whose origin I could not see lying down. It wasn’t a room I recognized. For a few seconds I processed this information. Then panic shot through me.
I sat bolt upright and jerked out of the bed, dashing madly across the room. Someone caught me, their arms wrapping tightly around mine, forcing me still.
“It’s all right, Arri,” Uncle Winthrop’s voice was low and firm, “You’re safe; we’re all safe.”
I trembled, but stopped struggling.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“In the Mental Home,” he said.
I looked around and recognized the typical, sparse furniture of an exam room. I had been lying on the bed.
“How did… What happened?” I asked. There was still cloth wrapped around my head. I reached up to feel it: bandages and a small amount of blood. Panic coursed through me again, but this time I controlled it, fought it down. I could figure this out. I closed my eyes and used the sensing technique Master Ujifil taught me. I had a concussion, but no permanent damage.
“You’re going to be all right,” said Uncle W. soothingly, “Just sit down.”
He guided me back over to the bed, then returned to the door.
“Master Etaq,” he called, “Run and get Dr. Rascada and let him know Arri’s awake. Then send messages to Lady Etautca, my household, and the Pren household.”
Uncle W. turned back to me, his eyes worried. “Dr. Rascada has seen you, and you’re okay,” he said calmly, “Master Ujifil came and brought Madame Trenholme, but you’re incredibly stubborn. Even Madame Trenholme, who learned from Jesse, couldn’t do anything for you. I think Master Ujifil was rather put out about having to leave Dr. Rascada in charge,” He sounded amused.
“What happened though?” I asked, still disoriented.
Uncle W.’s expression grew guarded.
“What’s the last thing you remember, Arri?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said, uneasily, “I had the strangest dream. I’m not sure where my memory ends and the dream begins…”
“Start with waking up yesterday morning,” he suggested.
“I woke up when I normally do and went into the kitchen to get a muffin, but Cook was still in bed and we were out of muffins, so I put jam on some leftover dinner rolls instead.”
“That much is true,” said Uncle W., “Gretel mentioned her cook woke up with the flu this morning.”
“Then I rode Sprigs to the Mental Home. Dr. Rascada was out, but Master Untryc let me in. Father was sleeping and very peaceful, so Master Untryc said I could sit with him.”
Uncle W. nodded and I realized he probably had some version of what happened and was comparing it with mine. He was rather too calm for what I was going to say next. I swallowed.
“So I was sitting with Father, and he was sleeping, and I was holding his hand,” I stopped uncertainly, wondering, hoping, that I had fallen asleep while sitting there.
“Master Untryc said you looked up, as if at something, and then asked, ‘What do I do?’. Then you closed your eyes.” Uncle W. prompted.
“Yes,” I said warily, “Keish needed help with a spell, unless it was a dream.”
Uncle W. was less doubtful.
“Keish called you?” he asked sharply, “What was wrong?”
“Everything’s fine now,” I said quickly, “Imato’s fine.”
“Imato is over a week away on the border of Greste. How do you know he’s fine?” he demanded.
I put my head in my hands.
“I saw him,” I said, “Keish was helping him cast some kind of ward,” images of battle rose unbidden to my mind, “They needed extra power, so they called on me. It worked. They won.”
There was a minute of silence. I didn’t look up. Instead I lay down on the bed. It would be better to just think the rest of it was a dream…
“What kind of ward, Arri?” asked Uncle W. after a minute.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a ward like that before.” I shifted uneasily on the bed, trying to concentrate on the pain in my head. “Keish will probably send a letter explaining,” I added.
“Master Untryc said that Quin stood,” Uncle W. prompted gently.
I didn’t respond.
“He seemed perfectly lucid, except that he was looking at the same invisible thing you were looking at. Arri, how can that be?... Arri?”
“We needed him,” I whispered, “We were going to lose the battle, so I opened a connection with him the way Keish did with me. We had tapped into the old Brio magic somehow and that made it possible. He woke up. I thought for a minute that he was cured…”
“He said something about a weapon?” Uncle W. said.
“He told us to use the ward as a weapon, and Imato did, and it worked,” I said.
“A ward as a weapon? Quin was lucid?” asked Uncle W. I glanced at him and saw his eyes wide in amazement.
“Not really,” I said, “I’m not sure how it worked. I just know the Grestian army fell and none of the Elcaran or Adyan soldiers were hurt. When the connection dropped, Father lost it.” I looked quickly away, “I don’t remember what happened next.”
“That must have been something to see,” said Uncle W., “I suppose I’ll wait for Keish’s letter to learn more though. Master Untryc said Quin pulled the chair out from under you,” said Uncle W. slowly, “that he smashed it into a wall. Master Untryc had to call in two other home assistants to restrain him. You were hit on the head in the commotion…”
I didn’t want to hear about it.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
“Yes, and Quin’s sleeping again.”
“I want to sleep too,” I said.
“Okay,” said Uncle W., softly, “It’s night now. I’ll help you home in the morning.” He waited a minute and then added softly, “I’m sure getting hit on the head was an accident. Your Father was disoriented and didn’t realize what he was doing. They say he acted like he thought he was still in a battle.”
I turned my back to him without answering. It took a long time to actually fall asleep. My head throbbed beneath the bandage and images of Father kept flashing across my brain. I wanted so badly for it to have all been a dream. I felt so helpless.

Uncle W. was there in the morning. He saddled Sprigs and rode behind me in case I fell, but it was an unnecessary precaution. My head still hurt a bit, but I was fine. When we got to Gretel’s townhouse, I was ordered to bed. It wouldn’t hurt me to miss class once in the term, they said, and Uncle W. promised to send notes to my professors.
I peered out my bedroom window until I saw Uncle W. leaving down the street. The house became very still. I was supposed to be sleeping and I supposed everyone had been ordered to leave me alone, but I couldn’t sleep. So much of what happened was muddled in my head. I needed to know exactly what happened. I waited a few more minutes and then got my fairy book from the dresser drawer. I wrote a quick note to say where I was going and set it on the bed. Hopefully, no one would even realize I was gone before I came back. It took only a minute to say the spell. I found the Winged Lioness waiting for me in the practice cavern, pacing in tight circles.
“The Brios have been busy,” she began, “Bellington wards are called impossible for a reason. You must congratulate Imato for me. Well done.” Her eyes were serious. I had come expecting to begin by telling about Gretel’s condition, but Trena seemed unusually agitated. The whole cave tingled with tension.
“Imato drew magic from my father,” I said, coming right to the heart of what I was considering.
“Yes,” said Trena, cocking her head to one side and regarding me.
“Father has no magic,” I continued, “At least none I’ve ever seen.”
“Dormant magic is not uncommon, and Brio magic has a knack for drawing it out,” said Trena, “especially in instances of marriage. You should also know that in a situation where a person truly has no magic of their own, Brio magic will transfer. It is part of the bond that comes with marriage.”
“Father’s magic is Brio?”
“Not entirely, but for the most part, yes,” said Trena, “the dormant magic within him was so slight that I can’t tell what line it comes from, but I believe the line is basically extinct.”
“Could you see us perform the spell?” I asked.
“You opened a connection to the ancient Brio magic embedded in this cave,” the Winged Lioness explained, “and I am intricately connected to that magic. Yes, I know exactly what happened.”
“How did we do that?”
“Keish has an innate talent for it,” said the Lioness, “However, even she needed more than one person to activate the spell. It is magic that belongs to the clan, so the clan as a whole usually activates it.”
“Keish, Imato, Father, and I don’t make the whole Brio clan,” I considered.
“If the need is great enough, you can represent them,” said Trena, “Ellean and Jezreel in their lifetimes became the core of the Brio line of magic. All magical lines need a core. Otherwise they will become too diluted. If a line splits and the core members of each branch work to keep the magic strong, one of those branches may separate and become a new line of magic with a new name. The core of Brio magic currently resides in you, Imato, Keish, and probably Liop. All branches off the main trunk will eventually become dormant as they get farther away.”
“We need Keish to tap into the line?”
“No, but her innate talent will make it easier,” said Trena, “You’re assuming hard rules, but magic doesn’t always have hard rules.”
This was too much information for me. I couldn’t process it. I decided to change the subject.
“Do you know that Father was lucid for a minute while the spell was being cast?”
“His memories are not lost, Arrietta,” said Trena, “They are locked. You were holding his hand when Keish drew on your magic, and you were able to transfer her spell to open a connection with Quin. It was what Imato needed. When he drew out Quin’s magic, he also drew some of the memories. Being Quin’s son helped.”
“Those were memories?” I asked, “He seemed to know what was going on…”
“Your Father was familiar with warding spells, even if he never performed one. Remember that under his command were other soldiers who could do magic. He worked closely with them.”
I nodded.
“What your Father said,” continued Trena, “is what he would have said, if he had actually been on the battlefield. It was the result of those memories.”
“But he’s the same as before now,” I said, “After the connection with Keish and Imato ended, I tried to pull him out again, by myself, but it didn’t work.”
“You might as well try to replace an iron chain with a bit of upholstery thread. It might hold for a minute, but it will break.”
“If I used many threads…”
“That would make a rope, still not as durable as chain,” concluded Trena, shifting restlessly.
“It’s not fair!” I said, “Why can Keish and Imato draw Father out and I can’t?”
“What they are doing will not cure him,” said Trena patiently.
“Magic is always easier for other people than it is for me,” I grumbled.
“It always will be,” said Trena, “because of your innate resilience to it. That doesn’t mean you can’t work powerful magic, only that you must work harder for it.”
“Why?” I demanded.
“I don’t know,” said Trena simply.
I kicked at the stone floor in frustration.
“Do you want to tell me about Gretel?” asked Trena.
“No,” I said bluntly, “I want to ask more questions.”
The Winged Lioness sighed and sat down.
“Do you know about what happened during the Princes’ Joust?” I asked.
“A little,” she said, “tell me what you know.”
I told her about the articles in the Gazette and Fly By and about how you and Beagan stopped Bradford.
“The King is going to knight Beagan,” I added, “It was announced two days ago.”
“Good for Beagan,” said Trena with a small purr, but her eyes remained troubled.
I went on to explain about the attempted burglaries and abduction of Father. It was clear that this information had not reached Trena. Her expression became very hard.
“So my question is,” I concluded, “Do you know what the Grestians want, what they’re looking for? Is it information?”
Trena shook her head uncertainly.
“I don’t know what they want. I will try to see,” she said and closed her eyes.
I waited. She took so long that I began to feel tired. I sat down on the floor and tried to study the tiny cracks and irregularities in the stone. I started to feel sleepy.
“Arrietta,” said Trena. My head jerked up, causing pain to shoot through it. I hadn’t really been asleep, but somewhat close to it.
“Did you see something?” I asked.
If anything, Trena’s agitation seemed to have increased. She stood and paced the floor, her eyes hard and troubled. I watched her, worried. Finally, she came to a stop.
“You must heal Quin,” she told me.
“I’ve been trying,” I began to protest, but stopped myself. “You saw me heal him?” I asked, hope shooting through me.
“No,” said Trena uncomfortably, “I saw what will happen if you don’t.”
“What?” I asked.
Trena shook her head at me. “You must heal him.”
“Is it related to what the Grestians are looking for? Did you see what it is?”
“Heal Quin first,” repeated Trena, “Then you can ask me more questions.” She shook her head slightly, “Of course, once you have healed him, you will have no more need to ask me anything.”
“But how can I heal him?” I asked, “I’ve tried so many times. I’ve done everything I can think of.”
“Everything?” asked Trena.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked.
Trena didn’t answer right away. She rustled her wings and continued her restless pacing, her eyes hard and worried.
“I will have to consider that more. A long time ago Alder and I tried to heal Guthrie. We failed, but that does not mean you can’t heal Quin. Arrietta, there will come a point where gathering information is just an excuse for delay.”
“Well, I’m not there yet,” I said in annoyance, “Master Grant and I are just getting started on the spells for casting wards on cells.”
“If this were a matter of a ward, it would be Imato’s task, not yours,” countered Trena.
“What if I can’t do it? What if Father really is like Guthrie?”
“I’m through with this conversation, Arrietta. You haven’t given up yet.” Her ears went back.
“I’m sorry,” I said meekly. I was not accustomed to this mood in the Lioness.
“Will you tell me about Gretel yet?” Trena asked.
“One more question?” I asked.
“One,” she agreed.
“Is Nuicui tied to the canyon the way you’re tied to the Brio Caves?”
That startled her, but not in the way I expected. Her eyes widened and then narrowed sharply.
“How do you know about Nuicui?” she demanded.
I drew backwards, suddenly nervous.
“Banquo told me. He was talking about proving oneself and he mentioned that Nuicui couldn’t prove herself. It’s very sad. I just wondered about it…”
Trena studied me. Gradually, she relaxed.
“Nuicui isn’t tied to the canyon,” she said, “She is weaker than most lions and her health is delicate. The canyon is her home and she stays there to be near the protection of her family.”
“Is there a way for her to prove herself without risking her life?”
Trena smiled slightly, eyes softening, “Risk is part of life, Arrietta. We must all take it, if we are to become something better than we are now. We must be willing to sacrifice our weaknesses. If death comes in this process, it is not the end. We will continue in the next life.”
“I just wanted to help, if I could,” I said, “For Banquo. He helped me.”
Trena smiled, a real smile with a slight purr behind it: “Perhaps you will someday. Now, I’d really love to hear about Gretel.”

I returned from the caves to find Gretel waiting in my bedroom. She had a letter from you in her hands, unopened, which she turned over restlessly, her eyes intense.
“Mendel is in the parlor,” she said absently, “He wasn’t content with my explanation of things. Apparently, he’s never known you to miss a class before.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked.
“You’re sick,” said Gretel, “I figured you could clarify later, if you wanted.”
I really wanted to read the letter, but I thought that probably Mendel shouldn’t be kept waiting.
“Did you learn what you wanted from the Lioness?” asked Gretel.
I shrugged uncertainly.
“Yeah, I guess you better go deal with Mendel first,” Gretel frowned. She stood up and followed me downstairs.
“Arri, what happened to your head?” demanded Mendel the moment I stepped into the parlor. He leaped from the couch and darted toward me, coming to an abrupt halt a few feet away.
“I fell and bumped it yesterday,” I said slowly, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Pretty hard if you missed class today,” said Mendel, “You’ve never missed a class before. I thought maybe you’d caught a dragon after all.”
“How do you know I’ve never missed class?” I asked.
“Have you ever missed class before?” asked Mendel.
“No,” I admitted.
“Well, that’s why I’m here,” said Mendel, folding his arms.
I glanced at Gretel. Your letter was beginning to look rumpled. She was fingering it distractedly.
“How about we just read Keish’s letter and get all our questions answered at once?” I asked.
Gretel smiled slightly and handed me the letter. I regretted my decision the moment I opened it and saw what you’d written at the top.
“What does that mean?” demanded Gretel, her voice rising.
“Imato’s fine,” I said quickly, “Did Uncle W. tell you anything?”
“He told me what you told him, which wasn’t much,” said Gretel, “I would have opened the letter, but I can’t. Keish has some kind of ward on it, or it might be part of the spell on the passenger pigeons.”
“Part of the spell on the pigeons,” said Mendel, studying the letter.
“Well, read it,” said Gretel.
I read your letter out loud, slowly. When we got to the part about Neàhman magic, Mendel offered Gretel his congratulations on having magic.
“Well, I’m not sure what good it does if I don’t know how to use it,” said Gretel, “And I don’t have much magic, far less than Keaton. I never had any magical outbursts as a child.”
“No worries about that,” said Mendel, “You’re surrounded by people who know magic-strengthening exercises. Fairy can teach you. She’s been going stir crazy without Arri to teach. It will be good for you both.”
Gretel and I looked at Mendel in surprise.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Gretel, “She could teach me, couldn’t she? Then I could help Imato with his research on the wards.”
We returned to reading your letter. Mendel turned bright red and said nothing during the parts about Gretel’s condition. It was really funny.
Then your letter got more serious. A couple of times I had to pause and remind Gretel that I knew Imato was fine. She grew pale and shaky toward the middle, but calmed down as you described your birthday party. I was glad you described it. We all needed to hear something nice. That was wonderful of King Menion to give you the necklace. It sounds beautiful. Mendel still says you should have been de-honored. He says he would like to be de-honored himself, but you can’t get any lower than “Master,” at least not to his knowledge.
“They use Serf in Neàhm,” suggested Gretel.
“Perfect,” said Mendel, “I was thinking of moving there anyway. I hear they let you dye your hair any color you wish.”

Gretel is very proud of Imato. She repeated the title Sorcerer Knight a few times, sounding it out. Mendel wants Imato to show him the Bellington ward when he gets back.
“It may come in handy,” he said brightly, “next time I go fishing.”
“Fishing?” asked Gretel, taking the bait.
“Mosquitos,” said Mendel, “Millions and millions of lethal mosquitos can now be killed with a single blow. Imagine the possibilities…”
Gretel was not amused.
We’re all happy to hear that you won’t have to deal with Lord/Master Salazar anymore. He may not have been the start of all the trouble, but he certainly deserves what he got for keeping it going. No one has learned anything more about Bradford or the documents that were intercepted.
Gretel says she is no less controlling than you are. After all, she doesn’t know how to force people to sit down and be quiet with a spell.

After we finished reading your letter, I thought everyone had a good explanation of what happened and that we should all go into the dining room for dinner, but Mendel and Gretel weren’t finished with me.
“So where were you today?” asked Mendel.
“Uncle W. brought me home and told me to get some sleep,” I said.
“You wouldn’t have put off reading that letter till now if you were here when it arrived,” Mendel said, looking a bit hurt, “and I’ve been here since I realized you were missing at lunch.”
Gretel frowned at him. Then she sighed.
“You may as well finish, Arri,” she said, “I want to hear what the Lioness had to say too.”
I sat back down, thinking.
“She gave me a long explanation about how Brio magic is like a tree and Keish, Imato, and I are like the trunk,” I said, “She wasn’t in a very good mood today.”
“I’m sorry,” said Gretel, “I guess she’s probably stressed out by everything the Grestians have been doing too.”
“And she said that I have to work harder to try and cure Father, that curing him is part of the solution to finding out what the Grestians are looking for,” I concluded.
“You’re working very hard already,” said Mendel, frowning.
I pulled a large pillow onto my lap and leaned into it. Mendel sat down next to me. I glanced at him. His blue eyes were large and serious.
“I’m going to meet with Master Grant in two days,” I said, “We haven’t really talked much about Father’s condition, but I’m going to ask him about it. He might have some ideas beyond what we’re already doing.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” said Gretel.

I spent the rest of the evening trying to catch up on homework and prepare for my classes.

February 24th
I talked with Master Grant this morning. He thinks we should finish what we started with the wards on cells and that I should take notes on anything that seems relevant to Father. He says if I think of a specific experiment that I would like to perform that he will be happy to help me. He also said that he would keep Father in mind as he worked and ask one of his friends who is an advanced medical student if he has any ideas.
We spent over an hour casting spells with our experiment. It was hard to create a ward small enough to contain a single cell. I could contain the entire petri dish, or a large group of cells, but the ward around one cell eluded me. Single cells could always slip past a ward. Magic could not enter or hold them. Groups of cells however were impacted the way you would expect. I noted that the wall around Father’s brain seems tied to individual cells. Any magic I perform would have to penetrate the cells membranes. Master Grant says all of this is significant.
“How?” I asked.
“Well,” he explained softly, “Your Father does not seem to be under any kind of spell. What if the spell were inside the cells? Ordinary magic would not be able to sense it, because ordinary magic cannot penetrate cells.”
It was a brilliant thought, but also discouraging.
“I need a spell that will penetrate cells,” I concluded.
“It’s only a hypothesis,” said Master Grant.

Catching up from two missed days of school has not been fun. I feel like I don’t have time to do anything except study. I sleep as little as I can possibly get away with. I’m doing the best I can, but definitely not as good as last term. Finals are less than two weeks away and I feel so unprepared.
Our final paper for College Writing is a group assignment. The professor divided us into groups of three students each, except for me. Then he asked which of the groups would be willing to have a fourth. After a minute of looking around, Master Renwick raised his hand.
“I don’t think so…” began another student, but Master Renwick interrupted.
“How many in this group had to rewrite the Reilly essay?”
The students looked at each other while Master Renwick nodded.
“I think we should have at least one person on the team who can get an assignment right the first time,” he said firmly and waved me over.
Still, they were all reluctant to give me much to do when they divided up the assignment. I suppose I should be grateful since I’m overwhelmed with work anyway.

Your next letter came today. I wish I could take your idea to the Lioness, but I’m certain she would only repeat what she told me yesterday. I have to heal my father. I think we should also try to find the talisman. Father’s last battle was about a day’s journey north along the Grestian border from where Imato is currently stationed. Perhaps we can ask him to look, although it seems like looking for a needle in a haystack to try to find a small piece of twisted wire in the shape of a bird somewhere in the northern desert. It’s also possible that the talisman was melted down when the weapons left over from the battle were gathered up and sent to the forges in Marobury to be destroyed. Strictly speaking the law doesn’t require armor and chain mail to be melted down, but the metal is valuable so it often it, especially if it is damaged. Right now Imato and all the soldiers must be gathering the weapons of the Grestian army they defeated and arranging for shipment to Marobury.
It’s disappointing that Imato probably can’t create a Bellington ward again. It was terrible to watch the army defeated, but we didn’t lose anyone at all and that was wonderful.

I’m glad that Brynn will be back in town in a couple of weeks. It’s so nice that she was able to visit for your birthday. Everyone is saying that we’ve probably seen the worst of winter, although it is snowing slightly as I say this. Liop is full of plans for what he wants to do with Keaton when he comes to visit. Sometimes I wonder if we should just rent them a room in the science museum and put a bed in it; I think Liop is virtually planning to live there for the week.
I hope everything is going well with school and everything. Give Uncle Adlen and everyone my love.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- February 22, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 29 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 22, 2005
Dear Arri,
I know I only sent my letter off to you yesterday, but I simply could not wait to share this with you.
Yesterday evening we were in the library when Caden arrived, asking whether or not I thought Imato would have to perform a Bellington ward again.
Brynn and I had been discussing exactly that.
“I’ve been doing some research,” I said slowly, “and I don’t think it matters because I don’t think he can.”
“What do you mean?” Jace asked. He had been out in his training yard and came in with Caden, so he hadn’t heard Brynn and me debating the subject.
I sighed. “The truth is it shouldn’t have worked. I told you how convinced Imato was at first that he couldn’t do it-- he insisted it was hypothetical. I should have realized that he’d studied it thoroughly. Of course, I had complete confidence because I had seen him do it in my vision. It was only afterwards that I started to think about it. I’ve looked over the whole thing today, all of the material I could gather on the subject, and frankly it’s unsustainable. It shouldn’t have worked.”
“But it did,” Jace pointed out.
I nodded. “I know, but I doubt we’ll ever know why.”
Caden looked thoroughly lost. “How can you say it’s an impossible spell? Clearly you’ve proof to the contrary.”
“Ah, but Keaton was telling me yesterday that Tish always says it isn’t proof unless you can duplicate the experiment.” I shrugged. “Brynn and I spent half the afternoon trying. Now I know I’m not Imato, but I think I can say that I’m a fairly powerful Brio in my own right without being accused of arrogance. At least, no more than normal,” I said with a slight smile, “but I can’t do it. Even on a small scale I can’t make it work.”
“Then how did it work for Imato?”
“Caden,” I chided, “I just said we may never know. You don’t understand the complexity of a spell like that. There are too many variables for me to investigate every parameter. Even if I could, I’m not sure it’s humanly possible to calculate all of them. Different harmonics could lead to completely different outcomes and absolutely anything could affect the harmonics. I’m talking about the date, the weather, relative positions of planets, layering juxtapositions, time of day, time of sunrise, location….”
“Even if everything could be calculated, any astronomer could tell you we wouldn’t be able to duplicate the conditions for hundreds of years,” Jace finished.
Caden refused to believe any of it. “But surely you can…”
I cut him off. “I would have to have unlimited time and unlimited resources, including access to people. Which of course would have to include Imato, Queran Aoweir, Arri, and Uncle Quin…” I trailed off, covering my mouth with my hand. “Uncle Quin…”
“Keisha, what is it?” Jace asked.
I held up a hand. “Just a moment, Jace.”
My thoughts were whirling in all directions. I turned to Brynn. “Did you already know about Uncle Quin’s magic? Before Trena said anything?”
Brynn tilted her head to one side. “I might have had a suspicion, like I did with Adlen and then with Jace when I met him, but I didn’t know anything for certain.”
“And with the tests you use he would read as nonmagical.” I didn’t have to ask, I’d tried with Jace. “The most you would feel would be a sense of potential-- like I felt with Charissa probably.”
Brynn nodded. “That’s right.”
I bit my lip. “Is it possible, though, that other spells would show dormant magic? With Jace, for example, are there other spells we could try?”
She shrugged a little. “Of course. There are many such spells and they’re all just a little different. For magic like Jace’s, though, it would be difficult. You’d have to know what you were looking for.”
“Because while most magic runs in documented family lines, there is occasionally spontaneous magic,” I finished for her. “Like with Jace, whose family shows no hint of potential, even, when tested. Uncle Quin is likely the same way.”
“Possibly,” Brynn conceded. “It’s not common, but I don’t know much about the Etautca family.”
“Do you think it would be different in battle?” I asked quietly. “If Uncle Quin’s magic is largely protective in nature, could a situation spark something causing someone familiar with magic to realize he had some?”
Brynn and Jace both looked very thoughtful at this idea.
“Are you saying that maybe someone in Greste knew about his magic?” Jace asked.
“I don’t particularly like the implications,” I responded, “but someone tried to take him. There must have been a reason.”
“And you think that dormant magic was the motive?” Caden asked incredulously.
“The only magical item unaccounted for was Quin’s,” Brynn offered quietly. “The protective charm may have been Jezreel’s, but given the circumstances and the nature of his gift, it’s possible that it became something more.”
“We need to tell Arri,” Jace said softly. “And we need to warn Imato not to try the Bellington ward again.”
“He’s not likely to anytime soon,” I said. “Besides, with all the theory he’s been studying, it’s entirely possible he’s been going through the same thought process.”
“Still,” said Jace, “you write Arri and I’ll write Imato. And Caden can see to it that both letters are delivered quickly.”
The look on Caden’s face said he thought we were all mad, but he nodded.

It’s all speculation, Arri.
Well, not the part about the Bellington ward. We’re possibly lucky that that didn’t completely backfire on us.
As for your father, I have no idea if we’re right. It’s something to think about at any rate.

Caden is sending this for me, so you should get it only a day after my last letter. Brynn is planning to be in Rousha by Saturday afternoon so she will be able to tell you more if I haven’t explained things very well.

Love Always,

Keish

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Keish- February 18, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 27 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

Read the entire letter before letting Gretel read it!

February 18, 2005
Dear Arri,
Nothing.
I don’t understand it, Arri. I should have felt something, seen something, but the surface of my mirror turned black and refused to clear until I ended the spell. I’ve never had that happen before. I don’t know what it means.
Probably nothing good.

It’s nearing midnight now, though, and if I’m going to try again tomorrow I need to sleep.

Feb. 19th
I’ve had to piece together what happened this morning from what I’m told-- I have no memory from when Cass and I left my office (we met to go over finals schedules so that she could make arrangements with the other teachers) to when I woke up in my bed over an hour later.
I suppose I should say I have no… external? memory… I remember the vision in perfect detail.
I wish I didn’t.

Cass says we had nearly reached my garden when I stopped talking abruptly and stood very still. She asked if something was wrong. I guess that’s when I collapsed.
Jace was in his training yard but Kaplan was, of course, watching. Which is probably good since Cass could never have gotten me into the tower by herself. Kaplan sent her for Jace and lifted me-- hurrying to get me inside while no one was about and startling Marta when he shouldered through the rear door.
With Kaplan’s injury he couldn’t carry me farther so Ryland took me upstairs. Malia helped him settle me in bed but couldn’t revive me.
Jace burst into the room, having stopped only briefly to speak with Kaplan, and when Malia said I wouldn’t wake Jace simply pulled a chair close.
When I woke he was very pale, his head in his hands.
“I’m okay,” I said softly.
Jace’s head jerked up and he gave a sigh of relief. “I’m glad,” he said, taking my hand.
“Did you bring me to bed?” I asked, looking around. “The last thing I remember Cass and I were locking up the school building.”
He gave me an odd look. “You don’t remember walking back? Cass said you were nearly to the garden when you collapsed. Kaplan got you inside and Ryland carried you upstairs. What happened?”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “A delayed reaction from my spell last night.”
He didn’t seem surprised. “How bad is it?”
A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. “Bad.” I took a deep breath to steady myself. “But it doesn’t have to be.”
“Imato?”
I nodded.
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Jace nodded. “Tell me everything.”
And so I did. I told him every horrid detail of the Grestean attack I saw-- every soldier who fell, every knight injured, every magic spell used for nefarious purposes. And then I told him how it could be stopped.
“You’re sure?” he asked when I was finished, even more pale than he had been when I woke up. “This will work?”
“I saw it,” I said simply.
He nodded, his trust implicit. “Can you at least rest for now and use the calling spell after lunch?”
I thought about it, calculating quickly. “Yes, that should be fine.”

Malia has brought up a tray, so I’ll write more later.
Later
I need to get as much sleep as I can, but you deserve a full account and I’m not sure I’ll be in any condition to write tomorrow, so I’ll get as much on paper as I can now.
After lunch I set up my mirror in my study. I can call Imato without it, of course, but I wasn’t sure how long I would have to sustain the spell, so it seemed prudent.
I sent a quick calling spell first, so that hopefully Imato could retire to his tent or something to speak with me.
When I saw him he was shaking his head. “The bell again, Keish? Really?”
I smiled. “I prefer not to appear in front of people when they aren’t alone.”
He laughed, seating himself at a small table. “Queran is letting me use his tent for studying wards,” he said, indicating the canvas room he was in. “But I imagine this isn’t a social call.”
“I did some divining.” My voice faltered as I said it.
Imato was instantly on alert. “What did you see?”
“The Grestean attack.”
“What? When? How bad?”
“Bad. But you can stop it,” I said softly, ignoring the “when” for the moment.
He had turned toward the tent flap. “I have to warn…” he trailed off as he processed the rest of what I’d said. His head jerked back around. “What?”
“A Bellington ward,” I said crisply.
His mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious,” he said. When I didn’t reply he continued, “Keish, they’re hypothetical. The standing record for an attempt protected one person for less than a quarter of an hour.”
“Safe to say you’ll beat that.”
I’ve often observed that Imato does not appreciate my humor. Being on patrol has clearly not helped that.
“Lakeisha Pren, no one has ever succeeded before,” he hissed.
“Maybe that’s only because a Brio has never tried.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You will,” I said simply.
Imato sighed and hung his head. “Alright, alright. I know better than to argue with you when you use that tone. When?”
“They’ll attack tomorrow morning. Before sunrise.”
“Wonderful,” Imato said, rolling his eyes. “So not only do you want me to cast an impossible spell, you want me to do it in barely over 12 hours.”
“Don’t be flippant, Imato. I don’t choose what I see.”
He was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t.” He paused before adding, “Was it awful?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice as every horrible thing I’d seen earlier flashed before my eyes.
“Okay,” Imato said, sitting and pulling out some paper as well as his book of wards. His businesslike voice made me smile a little. “I’ll need another pair of hands, you know. Preferably with magic. I don’t suppose you can…” he looked at me expectantly.
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
“Right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll come up with something. You realize, though, that I probably don’t have the reserves of power required for this.” He said it quietly, regretfully.
I nodded. “I know. You’ll be able to draw on me.”
He gave a small snort, irritated with himself. “I take back every flippant thing I ever said about your strengthening exercises.”
“Plenty of time when you get home. You can practice with Arri and Liop, and Nysa. I’ll bet we could even talk Uncle W. into it.”
Imato gave me an incredulous look.
“Okay, maybe not Uncle W.”
He chuckled. “How long can you hold this calling spell? I could use some help with the parameters.”
“I can last a while.”
“How long before Jace is upset with me over it?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Are we going to work or not?”
“Imato?” I heard from outside the tent. Sir Aoweir entered. “I do hope I heard Lady Keish’s voice just now because of her incredible talents and not because she is anywhere near the Grestean border.”
“You can hear me?” I asked in surprise.
Sir Aoweir looked around. “Yes, I can.”
“But you can’t see me.”
“Of course not. Neámhan magic is always either oral or aural. I gather from your question, though, that Imato can.”
Imato nodded and gave Queran (he insisted I must call him that as Imato does now, though it feels strange) a concise overview of what was going on.
I wanted to know more about Neámhan magic. “Tell me what you meant by oral and aural. Gretel never said a word.”
“I’m not sure she knows. We’ve lived in Arella since she was very young and once it became obvious that she did not possess the oral magic, which is more powerful, her mother thought it would be better to just let things be. Magic is not as common in Arella and she wanted Gretel to fit in easily.”
“But it’s common in Neámh?”
Queran nodded. “The oldest child in every family has some degree of it. Oral magic manifests by age three and is why we are known for our singers. Aural magic is the far more common variety. Most children would have the strength of their aural magic tested when they reached the age of 16, but with Gretel…” he shrugged. “We’ve never discussed it. I’m not sure she knows about it.”
“She knows,” Imato said quietly, holding up a paper so I could look over his work on the parameters. “She’s suspected since Trena told Keish and me about Brio magic seeking other magic. She’s been too nervous to ask you.”
“I’ll have to write to her. I’m going to be a grandfather, you know,” he said proudly.
I smiled as Imato’s face lit up at this declaration. “I did know. Congratulations.”
Imato made a face. “Yes, from Caden Viteri of all people.”
“He sent a very nice apology gift.”
Imato grinned. “Yes, from what Gretel says it set him back a tidy sum,” he said cheerfully.
I looked over what Imato was doing as he scribbled something out. “That all looks right. And I think you’ve solved the problem of needing another set of hands,” I said, looking at Queran pointedly.
Imato nodded. “Yes. Queran, I’ll need your help,” he said since Queran obviously didn’t see my look.
Queran looked over Imato’s notes with great interest. “I’ve never been involved in real magic before.”
“First time for everything,” I said. “Do you think you’re ready, Imato? I shouldn’t hold this too much longer if you’re going to draw on me tomorrow.”
Imato’s hands shook a little but he nodded. “We have to do some of the preparations tonight, but yes. Don’t be late tomorrow.”
“I won’t,” I whispered, then I let the spell fade.

“Is Imato ready? You held that a long time.” Jace looked relieved that I simply opened my eyes rather than collapsing again.
“He’s worried, but yes, he’s ready. I helped him with the parameters. And I talked with Queran Aoweir.”
“Sir Aoweir? Keisha, what are you talking about?”
I explained Neámhan magic to Jace. “Interesting. And that’s good, since Imato needs a second person helping him.”
I nodded. “He’ll still have to draw on my power, though.”
Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose there’s no way around that.”
I put my hand on his arm. “You know there’s not.”
He just nodded and pulled me up and into his arms. “You should rest then. After dinner at least,” he said, realizing what time it was.
Keaton ate with us, so Papa had to content himself with a somewhat simplified version of events. Caden had already informed the king about my vision, but Papa went after dinner to explain about Imato.
I don’t quite know what tomorrow will bring, Arri, but I’ll finish this letter as soon as I’m able.

Feb. 20th
Just for clarification, a Bellington ward is a massive undertaking. It blocks all magic and all types of weapons, including fire, from the enemy, while still allowing the protected army to send spells and arrows and whatever else into the midst of the enemy. And until today it was, for the most part, just a theory.
Since I’m not sure how much you were able to see, I’ll just start at the beginning and tell you everything.
I was up well before sunrise-- even Blaze was still sleeping. I set up my mirror in the sitting room so as to be more comfortable and carefully sought Imato, finding him just as Jace slipped into the room.
I let the spell fade for a moment. “You should sleep.”
Jace just shook his head and motioned for me to go back to what I was doing.
Imato was right where I’d seen him in my vision-- standing on a small rise just behind what would soon be the front line of the battle. Queran stood with him and I could see that they were ringed by the best knights of Sir Aoweir‘s division. Under the cover of darkness Elcaran and Arellan troops had stealthily drawn up in battle formation.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
Imato nodded and Queran followed his lead.
Just as Imato started to ask “How long?” the first arrow came whistling out of the darkness.
Imato gave a quick command and he and Queran each threw a handful of powder into the air. Imato began the chant and I could see the ward form, swiftly encompassing the entire army.
If Imato was surprised by his success he didn’t show it. His face was a mask of concentration.
I focused on him, allowing him to draw on my power as much as he needed.
As the sky began to lighten I heard shouts of rage from the Grestean side as wave after wave of arrows were repelled. All the while their archers fell as Elcaran and Arellan arrows found their marks.
After an hour I began to feel the affects of the spell-casting. I had hoped that Imato and I would be enough for us to tap into that ancient source of Brio power we felt in Rousha, but we weren’t.
“It’s not enough,” I said to Imato, “But it will be.”
Before he could ask what I meant I opened a connection with you. You were sitting holding your father’s hand. He seemed to be asleep.
“Arri, Imato needs us.”
You looked up, startled. “What do I do?”
“Just focus on him.”
I broadened the connection to allow Imato to draw on your magic also. From your gasp I assume you could see him, at least.
When he shouted my name I knew he could see you too. “Absolutely not, Keish!”
“We don’t have a choice,” I said simply as I felt the ancient power build.
I no longer felt any weariness and Imato looked more steady. He sent a surge of power into the ward, strengthening it. He shook his head at me but was no longer arguing.
Suddenly I saw your father. He stood between us, looking around at the battle field. “A ward isn’t enough,” he said quietly. “You’ll have to use it as a weapon. When the sun is higher.” His image faded quickly.
I couldn’t tell if you had seen him, but Imato’s jaw was clenched. “How is a ward a weapon?” he asked me and I knew he had at least heard Uncle Quin’s voice. I have no idea how I called Uncle Quin to us.
“You can try pushing it outward,” I said, “like I used your ward against the fairy queen. I’m not sure when the timing will be right though.”
“I’ll know,” Imato said through gritted teeth.
It was nearly another hour before Imato took a deep breath and said, “It’s nearly time.”
I tried to give a concise explanation of what he needed to do, but I think his intuition was a better guidance than anything I could give. I could feel the power building as Imato called more magic to him.
Suddenly he pushed his hands forward and the ward shot outward in a flash of light. I hope you didn’t hear the screams, but I have no idea. Imato held the ward out for several minutes before drawing it back slowly. He looked over the wreckage that had been the Grestean front line. There was no sign of life. In the far distance dust rose as if the army was in full retreat. Or what was left of it.
I saw your father again, with his hands on Imato’s shoulders, but the image was faint. I suppose I could have imagined it.
Imato caught my eye and indicated you. I let that connection fade. “Thank you, Arri,” Imato whispered as your image disappeared.
Imato continued to draw the ward in until it seemed to be absorbed into his armor. There was another flash of light and then a cacophony from the soldiers around us as they realized the battle was over.
Imato ginned at me. “Two hours.”
“I told you,” I replied with a grin of my own.
He didn’t look drained at all and I certainly wasn’t feeling any strain. If we hadn’t been able to tap into that ancient source, though, I shudder to think what would have happened.
Unfortunately, Queran is not a Brio. His face was ashen, but he was still swaying on his feet. Imato started to call for a litter, but Queran objected, insisting he’d be fine on horseback. I didn’t realize the spell would draw so much on him.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
He waved that off. “Nonsense. We did a great thing.” He took a ragged breath. “We’re not going to have to do that again, are we?”
Imato looked to me.
“I don’t think so.”
Imato got Queran on his horse and, when Imato was certain he could keep himself steady, sent him back to camp. He turned to clear away the spell residue, both physical and magical. “You don’t think so?”
I shrugged slightly. “I only saw this battle.”
He straightened and looked over the battlefield. “I think we’ve broken them for now. They’ll probably retaliate with small strikes, harrying us, but I don’t think they’ll be able to mount that kind of an attack for a while.”
I shrugged again. I don’t know anything about battles when it comes right down to it.
“Happy birthday,” Imato said suddenly. He grinned. “You’ve got an odd way of celebrating.”
I laughed. “I defy anyone to make me attend a ball after a morning like this.”
Instead of laughing with me he grew sober. “You have to go, Keish. You did what you needed to do, no sense drawing out the spell. Besides, Jace is likely already upset with me.”
“He understands.”
Imato rolled his eyes. “Of course. Jace is the soul of understanding. That doesn’t mean I won’t pay for this the next time I spar with him.” He smiled at me. “Go, Keish.”
I nodded, returning his smile. Then I let the spell fade.
Jace was holding my hand when I opened my eyes. I was slightly dizzy, but that was all. Tapping into that ancient Brio power always seems to leave me feeling invigorated.
“He did it,” I said brightly.
Jace squeezed my hand. “No casualties?”
I shook my head. “Not on our side. The first arrow came before the ward was up, but it didn’t hit anyone.”
Jace rang for Malia, who came a moment later with a tray of sandwiches. “Lord Caden is waiting rather impatiently in the library, Master Jace,” she said as she set the tray down.
Jace gave me a questioning look.
“Send him up, Malia,” I answered. “I can tell you both at once and then he can take a report to the king.”
“Well you’re conscious at least,” Caden said by way of greeting when he entered. “Though you look pale.”
“I always look pale,” I said dryly. I took a sandwich before anyone could start asking me questions. Once I’d finished I told Jace and Caden the whole story.
“Why could you see Quin?” Jace asked curiously when I was done.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve had dreams of him, of course, but I have no idea how I called him to us during the battle.” I frowned. “That’s not information that should be treated lightly,” I told Caden.
He nodded, continuing to scribble notes for the king.
“Caden!” I said sharply.
He raised his head, looking hurt. “Nothing you say is treated lightly, Keish.”
I nodded, grateful.
Caden wrote a bit more, then stood. “The king will be anxious to get this report, so I’d best go.”
After he left, Jace kissed my cheek gently. “You should rest.”
I considered arguing but the invigorating effect of the magic was wearing off. “Just for a while.”
Jace smiled. “Well we wouldn’t want you to be short on time getting ready for dinner.”
I sighed, remembering the formal dinner planned. “At least it’s not a ball.”

I decided to write in bed for a while, but now my eyes really are starting to close. I’ll have to finish this later, Arri.

Later
Do you think you could ask Trena about that Brio magic source, Arri? It would be so much easier on all of us if there were a way for Imato to tap into it on his own.

I woke to find Brynn sitting nearby, reading. I sat up, surprised. “Brynn? What are you doing here?”
She gave a low laugh. “I came for your birthday. I’d intended to be here last night, but weather delayed me a bit. I certainly didn’t expect to find you exhausted from such extraordinary spell casting.”
“It was only a short nap,” I retorted.
Her gaze was appraising. “Yes, your control is improving. Though I hear a vision did you in yesterday. If you carried your mother’s winged lion or created another secondary focus object to carry it would probably help,” she observed.
I chuckled. “Always teaching. I’d hate to break the lion carting it about, but I’ll think about it.” I looked around. “Where’s Jace?”
She laughed. “I chased him off.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, so he wouldn’t leave until your father needed him for something. I promised to stay with you while he’s gone. And not to let you get up until he’s back.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Actually it works out nicely, because I want to hear everything. Jace told me what happened, of course, but I want the whole story from you.”
And so what could I do but tell her.
Brynn doesn’t know anything about the power source we keep accessing. Or at least she says she doesn’t. I think I’m inclined to believe her.
By the time I’d been through all of it again for Brynn, Jace returned. “Ready to dress for dinner, love?” he asked as Brynn left the room.
“I could have finished already if Brynn hadn’t been under the impression I was an invalid.”
He laughed lightly, pulling me up. “Ah, but now Malia can help you, my dear. And you’ve gotten plenty of rest, so you can enjoy dinner all the more.”
Clearly something was going on, but he refused to tell me anything, so I gave up and dressed, letting Malia have her way with my tangled hair.
When Jace emerged from his dressing room in a full court suit, my breath caught a little. Since he stopped short when he saw me, I presume that the new gown I’d ordered looked as well as I’d hoped.
With a grin he offered me his arm and escorted me down the main stairs. When he led me to the door of the salon, I knew he’d had Malia do it over for my birthday. I’d told him I wasn’t stepping inside again until it was done.
It was amazing. Glacial blue had been replaced with rich green velvets. Dark woods gleamed. Cream satin was accented with gold embroidery. I stopped in the doorway, marveling.
Jace nudged me and I entered the room, turning nearly a full circle before realizing that in addition to Papa and Brynn, Caden was there. As well as King Menion.
I executed a slightly belated curtsey.
“I do hope you don’t mind that your father invited me to share in your birthday dinner, Lady Pren,” the king said.
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” I replied, hoping that Cook had gotten more notice than I had.
“I understand a maid of yours redid this room for your birthday. You must give her my compliments; it’s stunning.”
“Thank you, I’ll tell her.”
The king turned his attention to something Brynn and Papa were discussing and Caden moved to stand with Jace and me.
“So how does inviting the king fit in with keeping this simple?” I asked my husband sweetly.
He smiled. “Well it’s not a ball.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You look lovely, if I may say so, Keish. And Malia really did do an excellent job on the salon here,” Caden said.
“Indeed she did. What shall we have her do next?” Jace asked teasingly.
“It’ll be your parents’ home if you sister has any say in it when she’s here,” I replied. “But I’m not letting Malia go to Rousha without me. Your sister will find a way to keep her.”
Jace laughed. “No doubt Taty is already scheming to that end. Though perhaps she’d be content to have Malia’s opinions on fabrics and colors.”
Keaton slipped into the salon, looking for all the world like a formal portrait we have of Papa when he was a child. His formal suit was crisp and perfect and only a slight tremble when his hand touched mine gave away his nervousness at being in the same room as the king.
“Your Majesty, may I present my young cousin and ward, Keaton Leilani,” I announced, pushing Keaton forward slightly.
He made his precise bow and the king smiled.
“Ah yes, I am most pleased to meet you, my young lord.”
Keaton’s face was impassive, but he did glance at me as the king used the very title I had refused to months ago.
I noticed he had one of his paper birds held loosely in one hand and asked him about it.
With a grin he raised the hand and let the bird go. I heard more than one gasp as the bird began to flap its wings, flying in slow circles around the room. After a moment it began to chirp a piece of one of my favorite songs.
Keaton motioned for me to hold out my hand and when I did so the bird landed lightly on it. Keaton had used bright jewel-toned papers-- the bird was lovely.
“Happy birthday,” he said shyly.
I smiled. “Thank you, Keaton. What a marvelous gift.”
Brynn came closer and studied the bird. “Very impressive,” she commented.
Papa and the king praised the bird and Jace and Caden ruffled Keaton’s hair when he blushed. He glared at them a little as he smoothed it. I set the bird gently on the mantle.
Brooksby came in then, resplendent is his best uniform, to announce that dinner was served.
The meal was a lively affair, once we all relaxed a bit. King Menion is utterly charming, of course, but he’s never dined with us like this before and it felt odd. Keaton kept him entertained with tales of experiments gone wrong. I think some of his stories were probably from Liop.
After several amazing courses (now I have to worry about the king stealing my cook!) we adjourned to the drawing room where Jace was prevailed upon to play and sing. (He says he only plays the harpsichord because Taty wouldn’t attend lessons without him as a child, but he so obviously enjoys it.)
Master Zart collected Keaton when Jace finished as it was getting late.
Only then were the events of the morning brought up.
“Lady Pren,” the king began seriously, “after then events of last month in Rousha and today’s events, some reward is clearly in order. The title of countess was suggested, I understand,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
I made a face.
“But given all considerations,” he continued very formally, “We the crown would like to present you with this as a token of gratitude for your service to both kingdoms.”
I took the box he held toward me. Nestled inside was a gorgeous necklace of fine-woven gold strands dangling six small mirrors, three on either side of a larger pendant. The pendant was another mirror in an intricate frame. It was absolutely breathtaking.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I whispered as Jace took the necklace out and fastened it around my neck.
“We had it commissioned after the Princes’ Joust.”
The king may still have been speaking formally, with the royal “we”, but from Caden’s smug expression I could tell he’d been involved too.
“I am also going to recommend to King Trunsle,” King Menion continued, “that perhaps it is indeed time that someone held the title of Sorcerer Knight again. It seems a fitting reward for your cousin, especially since the last to hold it was also a Brio.”
Everyone admired the gift and the conversation returned mostly to small talk for a time, though I kept thinking how very impressive Sorcerer Knight would sound after Imato‘s name. I wonder what he would think of it. Better not to tell him anything yet, though.
As the king was preparing to leave he turned back to me. “You probably haven’t heard yet, Lady Pren, that Edric Salazer has been stripped of his title of Lord and his position at court and sent back to the family estate in disgrace.”
He left without giving further explanation so I cornered Caden as Papa walked the king out.
“What was that all about?”
Caden smirked. “I learned something last night.”
Jace gave him a look. “Out with it.”
“It seems that Lord, excuse me, former-Lord Salazar was using the stories in the Gazette to turn the opinion of the king’s council. After all, they can vote to close your schools in just a few months. When the stories stopped, Salazar kept the rumors going, adding fuel to the fire, so to speak, by starting several of his own. My uncle was positively furious when he learned that Salazar had asked me if I thought you were actually behind the plot against Queen Elspeth to begin with.”
Jace’s eyes were hard. “I should certainly hope so.”
Caden nodded. “Yes, I rather wanted to hit him myself. Couldn’t blow my cover like that, though, could I? Since we don’t know if we’ve seen the end of all this yet. Anyway, he was escorted to the northern city gate in disgrace, with only a small valise and his personal valet. I suppose it’s a good thing he’s a confirmed old bachelor-- it would have been a lot harder to get rid of him quickly otherwise.”
I smiled. “What a wonderful birthday present, Caden.”
Caden reddened slightly and Jace grinned.
Of course Papa already knew, but we explained what had happened to Brynn, then we all toasted Schnauzer being banned from Adya.
Soon just Jace, Caden and I remained in the drawing room.
Jace took my hand. “This may not be a ball, but may I ask for a dance?”
Caden sat at the harpsichord with a flourish. “A nice country jig, Jace?” he asked teasingly.
Jace gave him a playful scowl. “You know I’m only putting up with you because I can’t play and dance at the same time.”
With a mock salute, Caden began playing a spirited waltz.
Jace laughed, twirling me around the room with dizzying speed until Caden shifted into a smoother, slower piece.
We must have danced for nearly an hour. Caden was standing next to us before I even realized we’d stopped.
“You have something incredibly special and rare, you know,” he said to us softly.
“Not so rare,” I replied, my eyes not leaving Jace’s.
Jace somehow managed to shake Caden’s hand while keeping his arms around me.
With a soft “Happy birthday, Keish,” Caden left.

It’s dreadfully late now, Arri, but I just couldn’t sleep until I’d written everything out for you.

Feb. 21st
I have your letter.
Master Grant sounds like an interesting person to work with. I’m certain that between the two of you you’ll make all sorts of discoveries. Liop must have said something about warding cells to Keaton, because now he’s after me to show him how it would work. I told him I didn’t know and that he would have to wait until you had determined the best method.
I am very amused by Imato’s response to Gretel’s letter. It doesn’t seem like weekly updates would necessarily contain all that much new information, would they?
Should I find myself in such a condition I would demand you try to determine if I was to have a boy or a girl. I should hate being surprised by that. I prefer being prepared.
I promise it was not me who suggested using Liop to translate. I was rather hoping no one would think of it. I’m glad Uncle W. said no.
I suppose there could have been a more subtle spell of compulsion on Bradford, but the court magicians should have detected it. It does seem strange, though, that he would do something so obvious. If there was such a spell, who was behind it? That adds another layer of complexity.
It seems doubtful that anything sold was of magical value. Even without specific tests Uncle would have been fairly careful about what was put in the auction. What do you think became of the talisman? It does seem unlikely that the Gresteans, or anyone for that matter, would be looking for it.
It would be interesting to read your father’s journal, but it’s not something anyone would try to steal. At least I wouldn’t think so. What value would it have to anyone but family? I think he would have wanted you to read it.
I’m afraid you and Gretel are both correct-- you are probably working too hard but I don’t know what you can do about it either. At least this term will be over soon, right?
Perhaps you could find a doctor who would let you observe and assist, but then that would just be one more thing for you to do, wouldn’t it? It does seem entirely ridiculous that Master Ujifil refuses to let you help with much of anything. Brynn says that being overly cautious is as bad as being reckless. She’s threatening to have a few words with him when she returns to Rousha later in the week. I’m not sure if that will help, but I’m also not sure I can talk her out of it.
Gretel can be far worse a tyrant than Imato, believe me. She means well, though. Usually.
After what happened yesterday I’m sure you are very anxious to get this, so I’ll close. Imato and Queran are both fine, really they are.

Love Always,

Keish

PS- Yes, I’m sure I’ll need all the energy I can muster to keep up with Liop and Keaton. Master Zart has offered to take both boys out to the museum and other sites. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

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Arri- February 10, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 10, 2005
Dear Keish,

I met with Master Grant for the first time this morning. We spent an hour going over the article in Troilubus Iconetha and discussing how we would recreate the wards on bacteria. Master Grant is very intelligent. This is his final year as a master’s student. After this he will have to work for a while to raise money, but eventually he would like to get his doctorate and become a biology professor like Dr. Ecrue. I told him some of the things that Duke Tulson and Lady Clara told me about their honeymoon in Iconei. Master Grant was very interested. He would like to visit Iconei someday.

Since Captain Stoddart (who I found out is a cousin of some sort to Dr. Stoddart) told me about the attempted abduction on Father, there has been again been no news of any kind. The regular newspapers, however, have reported the burglaries. They have not reported the abduction. I wanted to bring Imato home to put up wards on the Mental Home, but the captain is convinced this would interfere with their ability to catch anyone when a second attempt is made. He promised to keep me apprised of any changes and I promised to let him know if I got any ideas about what the Grestians might be trying to find.

February 11th
Gretel received Imato’s response to her letter today. It contained absolutely no information about how he is doing or the weather or border skirmishes. Nothing was said about the letter he must have received by now from Captain Stoddart about the attempted abdution of Father. Imato’s letter consisted entirely of admonitions for Gretel to take care of herself and for me to take care of Gretel. He recalled absolutely everything he could remember about Mother’s expectancies and the things Father did to take care of her. The letter was several pages long and concluded with instructions for Gretel to send weekly updates and for me to let him know as soon as possible whether they were having a son or daughter.
“Can you do that?” asked Gretel, looking up from the letter.
“I don’t think so,” I said, reddening, “at least, I’ve never thought about it.”
“Good,” said Gretel, “I’d rather be surprised.” She paused, “I don’t want you to know before me, either,” she added.
“No,” I agreed, “I’ve had enough of knowing things too soon.”
Later, thinking about it some more, I wonder if maybe I could tell something like that. Mother could. I won’t try since Gretel doesn’t want me to, but maybe someday I could try on someone else…

Uncle Winthrop received a request today from Captain Stoddart to use Liop as a translator for some documents intercepted from Greste containing a mention of Queen Elspeth. Uncle W. is refusing. Liop is too young to be involved in war. I agree. Hopefully Captain Stoddart does not take this to the King. There must be some other way to get the documents translated. Considering what happened when Liop tried to translate the science article, it may not do any good for them to have him anyway.

February 14th
Your letter came this morning.
Gretel has been using the ginger Caden sent her. It certainly does help her feel better. She finds it ironic that Caden seems to know almost as much about her condition as she does, but after seeing you letter, she understands why.
I’m glad Cass can take over your classes for you. Most days I like my classes a lot, but with all that I have to do this week, it seems like having someone take over my classes would be nice. Especially Elcaran History and College Writing.
Imato’s wards are all more complicated than anything I have ever attempted, certainly more complicated than the security ward around the Westridge Manor. I can break that one easily.
Uncle W. would like me to say this to you about Bradford:
“You might want to keep in mind that attempting an assassination of Queen Elspeth in the middle of the Princes’ Joust, on a platform in front of thousands of spectators, surrounded by royal guards, would have been basically suicide on the part of Bradford, whether or not he succeeded. I’m not saying he’s completely innocent, but compulsion spells can be very subtle, and I don’t think we should rule out the possibility entirely. He may very well be a spy, but he’s not an idiot, and assassinating the Queen may not have been his idea. We don’t have the whole story yet.”
I hope this divining spell turns out to be easier than you anticipate. I wish you could just come to Rousha to do the divining. You’re still recovering from the Princes’ Joust.

Today Uncle W., Nysa, and I spent the evening at the Central Rousha Bank going through everything in the Etautca safe item by item and testing them for magic. There wasn’t really that much to test, since only things of sentimental value were kept after Father’s disappearance and the rest was sold at auction.
“What about the things sold at auction?” I asked. After they brought back Father’s sword and helmet, I was told to go through the town house where we were living and gather up anything that belonged to me to take with to Odsreq. I also gather up Liop’s belongings. Then, as instructed by the will, Imato, Uncle W., and I went through the house and decided what would be placed in the family safe and what would be sold. Imato and Uncle W. made most of the decisions. I didn’t want to deal with any of it. I paid most of my attention to Liop who was only four years old and didn’t understand anything that was going on.
“Your family moved so often,” Uncle W. recalled as we searched, “that they weren’t in the habit of holding onto things they didn’t need. All of the furniture was purchased in Rousha after Jesse died. I didn’t authorize the sale of anything that was old.”
“Did you test what you were selling for magic?” asked Nysa.
“I looked at it all,” said Uncle W., “but no, I didn’t perform any specific tests. If we sold something with magic, it was a subtle variety.”
Nysa frowned at him and muttered something. Uncle W. bristled.
“I really doubt the rugs, couches, and chairs were enchanted,” he defended, “I’m certain I sold nothing of real value.”
“What about clothing?” Nysa asked.
“You think clothing would be enchanted?” Uncle W. asked incredulously, “All of Jesse’s jewelry is here, as are Quin’s cufflinks and watch. What else might be enchanted?”
“The bird talisman on Father’s chainmail,” I said, remembering, “but he would have been wearing it in battle. It was never recovered.”
“Was the enchantment unusual?” asked Nysa, interested.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “Mother did it.”
“Okay, that makes one enchanted object unaccounted for,” said Uncle W., but I could hear the discouragement in his voice. I don’t think any of us believes that the Grestians were after a safety talisman.
Uncle W. opened a file drawer containing all of the family documents. He rifled through them and finally lifted a small stack of loose papers bound with twine.
“I think you should be the one to read these,” he said softly.
I looked at the top and saw a journal entry in Father’s scratchy print, so much like my own. It seemed like an awful violation of privacy, but I didn’t see much choice. I set them down in a corner of the safe by themselves.
“I’ll look at them later,” I said quietly.
Uncle W. nodded sadly.
We tested every scrap of paper for magic in addition to reading it. About one third of the stack contained recipes collected by Mother to give out whenever we moved and by necessity hired a new cook. The remaining two third were financial documents. Obviously, we found no magic.
We left for the evening no wiser than when we started. I wished I could take Father’s journal out of the safe, but I can’t. I will have to go back to the bank for an hour or two every night until it’s read. I think three or four nights will be enough.

February 15th
There does not seem to be enough time in the day for everything I need to do. Gretel told me today that she hardly ever sees me during the week because I am on campus studying or at the palace studying with Master Ujifil or at the Mental Home visiting Father or at the bank reading his journals. I have turned down every social invitation since the Winter Festival. She says I am burning my candle at both ends and it will go out soon if I’m not careful. Keish, I don’t know what I can do about it.
I met again with Master Grant today. Master Grant is always polite and soft spoken. He handles each lab instrument as if it were made of delicate crystal. He even speaks softly to the white mice when he walks by their cage. The white mice are part of another student’s experiment. I don’t know what they’re used for. Master Grant prefers to work with cells.
Today Master Grant had a book of simple warding spells. Together we paged through it looking at the different types. He was very interested in my opinion, whether or not I thought I could perform the spell, whether or not I thought the spell would work on something so small as bacteria. He has been studying magic in his spare time, much like Taty studies with Brynn. He doesn’t practice, because he has no innate magic, but he is interested, at least interested in how magic might be used with biology to prevent disease. Master Grant believes that all diseases are caused by infections. The infection might not be bacteria. They’re might be smaller things than bacteria out there. If we can ward people against infection all illness will cease. It’s a nice hypothesis. I hope he is right.
The problem is that I have only ever created a few very simple spells in my life. Together, Master Grant and I found a spell that we would like to use. This weekend I will practice it until I feel confident about my skill. Then we can begin the experiment with the bacteria.

I spent an hour reading Father’s journal entries today. The first was a travel log of everywhere he and Mother went on their honeymoon. They traveled all over Arella together exploring villages. The next was a description of when Imato was born.

February 16th
Master Ujifil has begun letting me come with him on visits. He has me examine the patients and then describe to him their illnesses. After that he examines them and tells me if I missed anything in my diagnosis. Then he describes for me what spells he will use to treat them. I watch the treatment. It is all very interesting, but I wish he would allow me to help. I also wish that I could sit in on visits by regular doctors, because I would like to see how the visits and treatment are different. All of Dr. Ujifil’s patients are very wealthy, because healers are so rare. Most people use medical doctors. Master Ujifil considers that magical healing is always superior to medical science. It certainly seems that way most of the time, but when I talk to Master Grant, I wonder if that is really always true. Master Grant is not a medical scientist, but he still knows a lot about medicine. Originally, before became interested in cells, he wanted to be a doctor.

February 18th
I have finished reading all of Father’s journal entries. They consist entirely of travel logs of family vacations, descriptions of children’s birthday parties, logs of Imato and my academic successes, and descriptions of Imato’s and my births, but not Liop’s birth. Tomorrow I will report to Captain Stoddart that there is nothing in the Etautca Estate that could possibly interest the Grestians, unless of course they wish to take Father’s travel advice and avoid certain roads at certain times of the year and camping in the Yolan woods in May, because there is far too much rain.

I am exhausted and Gretel says if I don’t put out my bedroom light now, she will put it out for me. She’s as controlling as Imato sometimes. I still have a ton of homework and I can’t help but wonder how your divining is going tonight. Gretel says I must wait for your letter.

Please be careful. Don’t over exert yourself. You’re going to need a lot of energy available when Liop comes to visit.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- February 5, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 5, 2005
Dear Arri,
Caden had lunch with us yesterday.
“I still haven’t heard a satisfactory explanation for how you noticed what even she hadn’t,” I said pointedly when he said he’d sent Gretel a letter.
“Indeed,” Jace agreed, looking expectantly at him.
Caden squirmed. “I’m just observant,” he muttered.
Jace gave him a look. “While I have no doubt about your powers of observation there’s definitely more to it.”
Caden sighed. “It was the day you arranged for dishes from all of the Market food stalls for dinner. There were so many dishes I think we all nearly ate ourselves sick but Gretel specifically only ate the ginger dishes. Annaleis was the same way. The Duke finally complained about the expense in her fourth month and that’s when she told him.”
“Do you always refer to your brother-in-law as the Duke?” Jace asked in amusement.
“When I have to refer to him,” Caden grumbled. “I sent Gretel several ounces of ground ginger as an apology. Racquel says it doesn’t work for everyone but since it seemed to be working for Gretel…” he shrugged.
“Very reasonable,” Jace said. “And I’m sure worry over Imato’s reaction to your observations had nothing to do with your prompt and very generous apology.”
“Wait a minute,” I said thoughtfully. “Racquel? As in Her Grace, the Duchess of Orullian? Dare I ask why you would be discussing such things with Racquel?”
He reddened. “She’s my cousin.”
“That I am aware of.”
Jace laughed. “And I highly doubt you discuss women’s conditions with Euan though he’s also your cousin.”
Caden made a face at that. He was quiet a moment. “Racquel is nearly four years older than I. When Cambria was ill Quel spent a lot of time with her, with both of us. When Cambria died, Quel was the one who worried about me. We became fairly close. As I got older she became my confidante. Our letters may even rival yours. Until recently she was the only one who actually listened to me,” he said quietly. “After spending nearly a year with Annaleis and the Duke I badly needed someone to actually listen to me. I spent a couple of months with Quel and Ryne. I asked her about the ginger then.”
“Well the next time they come to court they’ll have to have dinner with us,” I said briskly.
Caden smiled. “I’ll tell her.”
Jace looked puzzled. “Why did you stay with your sister and brother-in-law at all if it was so bad?”
Caden rolled his eyes. “The Duke has a younger sister, a much younger sister, who wishes to be presented at court. He thought it would be better, since she was still so young, to bring a bit of court life to her. I spent eleven months dining and dancing and generally being attentive to a fifteen-year-old girl. Mother was insistent that I stay, especially since Annaleis’ condition left Stacia to her own devices even more. Only Stacia’s obsession with Baby James saved me from an even more prolonged stay.” He grimaced. “She’ll be presented at court on her 17th birthday-- just a few weeks away. Regrettably she’s already saved me a dance.”
Jace was laughing. “Keish will have to factor that into your schedule.”
Caden just scowled at him.

I finally seem to be fully recovered. Jace is still hesitant about “letting” me do magic, but I’m fine. Cass did an admirable job with my classes all week, but I’ll be glad to take them over on Monday.

Keaton’s hair has been restored to it’s natural shade-- just in time, too, since Master Zart and Tish had planned to take him to the museum today.

Jace received an extremely frustrated letter from Tulson this morning. Apparently he doesn’t know any more than the rest of us.

Feb. 6th
The rumors here in Adya are still beyond belief. The most amusing indicates that nothing actually happened at the Princes’ Joust and it’s all an elaborate scheme on my part to gain favor after the stories in the Gazette damaged my reputation. Really you’d think pretty much anyone would realize how little I care about my reputation.
Other rumors are worse. Caden doesn’t want to tell us all of them, but in the end he does. Jace has assigned Kaplan, who didn’t go with Sir Aoweir because of a training accident, to keeping an eye on things. And by “things”, of course, Jace means me. I gather Kaplan is going to be my shadow when I return to classes tomorrow.
Euan has become Jace’s biggest detractor, though Jace just laughs and calls it sour grapes. Luckily no one takes Euan seriously, especially since King Menion still has not named him Prince Regent.
All of this proves, though, that something is still going on. All positive rumors about us or Rousha seem to be swallowed up in a tide of barely concealed malice. Caden has redoubled his efforts to learn something. He thinks he’s getting closer at any rate.

Feb. 7th
I was able to teach all of my classes and finish grading midterms, so I feel positively flushed with productivity today.
I also received a letter from Imato, who only grumbled a little about my waiting until he had left Rousha to learn something useful and do something about it.
Most of his letter is comprised of the technical details of every warding experiment he’s been trying in the camp sparring yard-- Skellig (blocks magic), Pirente (blocks fire) and Nunley (arrows) have all been attempted. The Kesing-Oak ward, in particular, is giving him all sorts of trouble. Apparently it will stop any blade, but unfortunately that includes your own. And since your blade is technically within the ward and the ward only stops blades an opponent can grab your hands and turn your own blade against you.
Jace says I should just tell Imato to leave off perfecting that one until he returns to Rousha. I think it worries Jace that Imato could be draining his powers too much on experiments to be able to use them effectively in a battle.
I’ll caution Imato to be careful, but likely he’ll just laugh at such an admonition coming from me of all people.

Feb. 9th
Heavens, what has been going on in Rousha?! I’m inclined to write a letter of complaint.
King Menion summoned Jace and me today. When we arrived in his small counsel room Papa and Caden were already there.
The king held out a sheaf of paper. “Apparently a great deal more happened in Rousha on the day of the joust than originally thought.”
Jace and I scanned the papers quickly-- reports of two attempted thefts, an attempted kidnapping (I gasped when I read about Uncle Quin), the interrogations on Bradford…it was a lot to digest.
“And they kept all of this quiet for a week?” I asked indignantly.
I heard a quiet chuckle from Papa and Jace muttered, “Imato’s likely to pitch a fit.”
King Menion indicated the interrogation report. “What do you think?” he asked me quietly.
I shook my head. “There was no spell of compulsion on him so I have my doubts about his innocence. And magical interrogations often result in some… memory lapses.” I gave no further explanations but of course everyone was aware of my involvement with the questioning of various Narls.
The king nodded. “I will certainly note that in my response. If you think of or… learn… anything else, I’m sure you’ll keep me informed.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” I said, matching his sincere and serious tone.
We were dismissed after only a little further discussion. Neither Jace nor I know what to think and Papa hasn’t returned home yet. Nor has Caden been by.
What’s going on, Arri?

Feb. 10th
I have your letter.
I am quickly losing all patience with Master Ujifil. Has he considered that maybe his attitude towards apprentices is contributing to how few healers are left in Elcaro? Honestly.
Yes, Imato’s letter to me included his feelings on the weather. An included note to Jace described it all in even more colorful language. I don’t understand fighting in such weather either, though I suppose if you’re used to living in it it doesn’t much matter.
I can’t imagine Imato knowing of Gretel’s condition and not saying anything. I’m also glad I did not have to write the letter she had to. But at least now she’s done it. I look forward to hearing of his response.
As nearly the only person who witnessed all of Beagan’s confrontation with Bradford, please tell him I declared it to be extraordinary. When you factor in Beagan’s limited training compared to Imato’s I’m not sure anyone could have done a better job.
I’m not sure I want to pass Mendel’s compliments on to Keaton. It would likely only encourage him. And since the blue face was certainly not intentional I’m sure he agrees with Mendel on that score at any rate.
I guess your interview with the captain was a lot like my audience with King Menion. I’m sorry it was so uncomfortable for you, being in your father’s old office.
What could the thieves have been after? Jace asks if your father had any important documents, but says everyone else has probably already thought of that too. I agree that it’s not likely they were after the Chronicle. It won’t work for anyone else.
With all of the warding Imato was doing, it seems strange that he didn’t ward the mental home, or at least your father’s room. Are we sure he didn’t? That could explain why the spell backfired and the abductors still haven’t been revived.

I’m sorry you didn’t make the honor roll but surviving is good too. With everything going on that’s impressive. Good luck preparing for finals… I have to devise mine still. Hard to say which is worse.

Feb. 11th
Caden is glad Gretel was pleased with the ginger, but Jace says he’s still holding his breath, so to speak, to hear Imato’s reaction. Caden is trying to ignore Jace when he makes these comments, which probably means they’re true.
I refuse to involve myself in the debate.

Feb. 12th
I received an absolutely furious letter from Brynn today. Thankfully I am not the person with whom she is furious.
Apparently a packet of documents in a particularly difficult Grestean Sand dialect were intercepted on the 8th. All anyone has been able to tell thus far is that they were for Bradford, from Greste, and they mention Queen Elspeth. Linguists are attempting to translate them, but no one is familiar with this dialect.
So all of Bradford’s claims of innocence have been completely overthrown, but of course he’s not at all inclined to be helpful.
Brynn is insistent that rather than wasting time attempting a translation, King Trunsle should have sent the documents to me immediately for divination purposes. Brynn was called in to make an attempt, but there were some protective spells over the documents and her magic was not enough to overcome them.
If it weren’t a matter of sending the originals King Trunsle probably wouldn’t balk at the idea, but he is understandably hesitant to send those anywhere.
Brynn is asking me to do the divination anyway, even though it’s far more complicated without something to focus it.
“She shouldn’t be asking that of you,” Jace said, irritated. “Not when she knows full well what the last spell cost you.” He was worried, knowing that I’d likely do what Brynn asked.
“I don’t think she feels like there’s another option,” I said quietly.
“And so you’re going to do it,” he said in resignation. He sighed. “I won’t ask you not to, you know that, but I’m concerned. Without the documents to focus the spell…”
“I know.”
We lapsed into silence. I’m grateful he won’t stop me, but I’ll admit I’m a little worried about it too. I’m going to have to be careful. Possibly more so than with any other spell I’ve ever tried.
Jace was somewhat relieved when I said I would have to wait until at least the 15th so that the moon was at least half full. Waiting until the full moon would be better, but that’s not until the 23rd and I’m worried we can’t wait that long. Brynn thinks that if whoever in Greste sent the documents doesn’t get a response in a timely manner it could cause some sort of retaliation.
And since retaliation could endanger Imato… Waiting too long makes me too nervous.
If I can’t wait until full moon, though, I am going to have to check the position of the stars. I’m going to need all the help I can get.

Later
After consulting with Papa, it looks like sunset on the 18th will be the ideal time. I only hope it won’t be too late.

Caden is sending a ridiculously large order to Uncle W. for fireworks for his birthday ball. He insists that it won’t be at all exceptional for him to do so, even with where things stand between us, because after New Year’s anyone who is anyone is going to have Uncle W’s fireworks. Caden is determined to have the most spectacular array of them Adya sees all year.

Give my love to everyone. We are looking forward to seeing Taty, Nysa and Liop in a few weeks also. Keaton especially is thrilled.

Love Always,

Keish

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Arri- February 3, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Mon, 20 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

February 3, 2005
Dear Keish,

I expected that Master Ujifil would be pleased when I told him about healing the blacksmith, Master Karford. By that time I had come up with a brilliant idea to help pay my rent next year. I would heal the lungs of ex-smokers. I could heal one person every weekend. I only needed an idea of what to charge. But Master Ujifil wasn’t as excited as I was. Instead he was upset.
“Lady Arri,” he said, “I am happy that you were able to heal someone, but I am troubled by the fact that you did so without my supervision.”
“I didn’t know I needed supervision,” I said, dismayed, “why do I need supervision?”
“You are still an apprentice. Healing spells can be dangerous. What if something had gone wrong? What if you made a mistake in your diagnosis or your treatment?”
I hadn’t thought about it.
“I didn’t have supervision when I healed the boy fairy,” I protested, “Or pulled the smoke from Liop and Glory.”
“You healed the boy fairy under emergency circumstances,” explained Master Ujifil, “Obviously, I don’t expect you to stand by and do nothing in an emergency. However, healing the blacksmith was not an emergency. You should have referred him to me.”
“But I know how to pull smoke from lungs,” I protested, “I think I could learn healing faster than you are teaching me.”
“You are impulsive and unpracticed,” said Master Ujifil, “It takes time to become a competent healer, time and study. Your attention is divided in so many different directions right now that you can hardly be expected to progress. You are not ready to work as a healer.”
Master Ujifil would not change his mind. He commanded that I would not try to heal anyone myself without his permission and supervision unless it was an emergency. He said I was a small child trying to learn to balance on a tightrope before I learned to walk on the ground. I went home that evening so frustrated that I had no more appetite than Gretel. Emily had to clear away the plates virtually untouched, although Gretel tried valiantly to eat something. At my suggestion she took some rolls to bed with her. I spent the evening studying my anatomy book until I fell asleep.

February 4th
We had two letters from Imato today. The first letter came by regular post and had been written only a few days after he left. It took rather longer to reach us than it should have, probably because of the weather. I didn’t get to read it, because it was addressed to Gretel and she said most of it was sentimental things that wouldn’t interest me. So far the most excitement the division had seen was a blizzard that held them up for a day and was the reason Imato had time to write. He spent a long paragraph telling Gretel to be careful of her health and not spend too much time out in the Winter Festival if it was too cold.
“He knows,” Gretel groaned, “He knows and he never told me.”
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Caden Viteri knew,” she continued, “and he’s almost a complete stranger. How is it I was the last to know?”
“Keish and Jace didn’t know,” I said, “The Prens didn’t know.”
“I think Lady Pren was just being kind. Are you sure Nysa didn’t know?”
Personally, I agreed with that, but I didn’t say so out loud.

The next letter came two hours later, carried by Express. This one was a response to Gretel’s letter sent the 28th, the day before our conversation on the morning of the Princes’ Joust. Imato’s division arrived at the border on the 30th, having been delayed a little by storms. As expected, the northern dessert is bitterly cold. They have already had more snow this year than any year that any of the natives can remember. Imato doesn’t know how anyone, even a troll, can consider fighting in these kinds of conditions. His division had not as of the date of the letter, February 1st, seen any action, and he was glad of that. He ended with admonitions for both of us to stay safe and warm and to send him word of any developments with your investigations of the gossip columns. I thought this was a good indication that he did not know about Gretel. He was still obsessing about the papers.
Gretel spent the rest of the evening starting, scribbling out, and wadding up unfinished letters containing her response.
“What can I say? How can I say it?”
“Well, it is good news,” I said, “He’s going to be happy to hear.” Nevertheless, I was glad I didn’t have to write the letter.
“Yes, but it’s not the sort of thing you write in a letter to your husband,” said Gretel, “it’s the sort of thing you tell him in person, in private.”
“I guess you could wait and surprise him when he comes back,” I said doubtfully.
Gretel looked horrified.
“No, I’ll write it,” she said, “If it takes all night, I’ll write it.”

There’s still no word about the capture of Bradford from the castle. I was supposed to be informed of any new developments. Beagan is recovering well from his injury. Mostly we’re all waiting anxiously for an explanation of all this.

February 5th
It did take all night, but Express was on her way with Imato’s letter this morning.

I received your letter today. It’s good to know your side of the story since it’s hard to tell sometimes whether or not Mendel is embellishing a story. Your account matches with Corey’s. The frustrating thing is that all I can add to it is that Bradford is still in custody and no one seems to know anything about it. I even tried sending a note to Lady Clara, but she responded that she and Duke Tulson are as much in the dark as we are. She did, however, suggest that the problem might come from the fact that the court magicians, one of whom is the King’s chief interrogator, are still recovering from their attempt to break through the identity protection spells on the Fly-by.
Taty and I went to visit Beagan today. He is rightfully proud of his injury and considers that it will probably leave a scar. He has received personal visits from both King Trunsle and Queen Elspeth to thank him for his bravery. For all his pride, there is a bit of humility in him too. He is certain that if Imato had been there that Bradford would have been caught much more quickly and without injury.
Mendel would like to congratulate Keaton on the red hair. However, he is not sure the blue face was an advisable fashion statement. At least it isn’t permanent.

February 7th
This morning I was sitting in my Elcaran history class and thinking that Master Imkell had been most thorough in his tutoring because I have yet to hear anything new from Dr. Klinkenborg. Class was less than half over when I heard someone entering from the back of the room. Dr. Klinkenborg stopped his lecture mid-sentence.
“May I help you?” he asked in surprise.
We all turned our eyes to see two knights standing in the doorway. I recognized Imato’s friend Sir Simon Wood, but the other knight was new to me.
“Pardon our interruption,” said Sir Simon’s companion, “but would you be willing to excuse Miss Etautca from class?” All eyes in the room turned to me. I felt the blood draining from my face. Imato…
“Of course,” the professor responded, eyebrows raised, “Miss Etautca, you may speak to me later to find out what you missed.”
I gathered my things and followed the soldiers outside.
“How’s Imato?” I asked Sir Simon the moment the classroom door closed behind us.
“He’s fine, Lady Arri. This isn’t about him,” said Sir Simon quickly. Relief washed over me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Captain Stoddard would like to meet with you,” said the other knight.
“Why?” I’ve never the captain who took over after Father’s supposed death.
“We can’t say, but you’ll find out at the castle.”
“I’ll get Sprigs,” I turned toward the stables, but Sir Simon touched my shoulder lightly.
“Lady Arri,” he said apologetically, “we’re to escort you in a carriage.”
I stopped and looked at Sir Simon. He looked back steadily.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked. Why else wouldn’t they trust me to ride myself?
“Of course not, this is merely a precaution,” he answered.
My thoughts were all jumbled together on the way to the castle. I sat alone on my seat with the knights riding on either side. I could see them out the carriage windows. The problem was that I could think of a million reasons why someone at the castle might want to talk to me, and again no reasons at all. On the one hand, Imato was heavily involved in investigating the Fly-by, but he wasn’t available. You were instrumental, along with Beagan, Mendel, and Corey in stopping the assassination attempt on the queen. I have personal connections to all of you. Also, my father should be captain of the King’s Army. These were all good reasons. One the other hand, I had little direct involvement with your rescue of Queen Elspeth and Father still has amnesia, so what use could it possibly be to talk to me? I don’t know anything different from what you know, rather less.
Sir Simon and his companion, Sir Luwig, were not helpful. They escorted me to the military offices in the left tower without a word, except to pass on their regards to Beagan. They left me in a waiting room, not nearly as elaborate as the court waiting room, but nicely furnished. I didn’t have more than a couple minutes to admire it though before a page whisked me into the Captain’s office.
I knew that room. Somewhat dark, stone walls hung with heavy, plain rugs to muffle sound. The windows were two long narrow slits. It was Father’s office years ago. He used green rugs on the walls. This captain used beige. I liked green better.
“Welcome, Lady Arri,” he said, standing and bowing, “I’m sorry to interrupt your classes. Please, have a seat. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said nervously. I looked around the room, taking in the similarities and differences from my childhood. Captain Stoddard waited. When I finally looked back at him, his eyes were sad.
“Shall we get to business?” he asked softly.
I nodded. The room was making me uncomfortable. I wanted out of it.
“It seems that January 30th was a very busy day,” began the captain, “in addition to the attack on the Queen, there were two attempted burglaries and an attempted abduction.”
I blinked in surprise. He was watching me closely.
“The first happened just as the joust was beginning. Two men of unknown identity used magic to enter the Rousha Mental home unobserved. They attempted a de-capacitating spell on Sir Etautca, which backfired and rendered them unconscious.”
It took a minute for me to get past the shock.
“Someone wanted to kidnap Father? Is he all right?” I asked.
“It seems so,” said Captain Stoddard, shaking his head, “and your father’s fine. The spell did no damage that we can detect over what damage is already there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I felt a pulse of anger, “You should have told me.”
“We didn’t let word out, because we wanted to conduct a quiet investigation into whether the events were related. We haven’t even informed King Menion.”
“Do you have the abdutors?”
“Yes, but they’re still unconscious. Master Ujifil and Madame Heinrich have been attempting to revive them.”
That reminded me. “How are the court magicians?” I asked.
“Master Senoj is completely recovered. The others are coming along nicely. Now, about the burglaries—“
“Who examined Father?” I interrupted, “Did Master Ujifil see him?”
“As I said,” the captain repeated gently and firmly, “your father was not harmed. Now the first burglary attempt was at the royal treasury.”
“Did you catch them?” I asked.
“No, but the ward made a record of the attempt. There were at least two people involved. Something to remember is that there is an attempted break in to something on the castle grounds during the Princes’ Joust every year. Thieves assume that everyone is distracted by the competition. This attempt was sophisticated, but we’ve actually seen better attempts.”
I frowned.
“The second break in was also nothing unusual. It was an attempt on the Central Rousha Bank.” He was getting to the point now. I could see the captain’s eyes shining with interest. “We didn’t think anything of it until early this morning, when Master Senoj’s interrogation of Bradford finally got a couple sentences out of him.”
“Did they catch those thieves?” I asked.
“They were killed in the attempt.” He frowned unhappily.
“Wow,” I said, “you kept a lot quiet.”
“We put a glamor over the bank,” said Captain Stoddard, looking slightly pleased, “Now about those hard-won sentences. They go like this:
“Master Ujifil asked Bradford why he attacked the queen. He answered: ‘To cause chaos in the kingdom.’”
“Master Ujifil asked why Bradford wanted to cause chaos in the kingdom on that particular day. He answered: ‘To secure the theft.’”
“Which theft?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” sighed the captain, “In fact the attempted abduction of Sir Etautca could be defined as a theft. Bradford was from Greste, and the treasury contains several valuable objects won from Greste during war. It has also been pointed out that the bank robbery was the same bank where the Etautca estate is kept.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Lady Arri,” said Captain Stoddard, “How familiar are you with the material part of the Etautca Estate?”
“Very,” I said, remembering Imato and my meeting with the financial advisor.
“Tell me, are there any artifacts among your father’s belonging. Something he may have won in battle? Perhaps in battle with Greste?”
“No,” I said.
“Any powerful magical artifact? Of course, we know that you have the Brio Chronicle, but I doubt a thief would have expected to find it in the bank.”
“No, the only unusual magical artifact was the Chronicle as you said, and that was given to Uncle W. to give to me when I was ready for it.”
“Could they have been after the Chronicle?” asked Captain Stoddard.
I thought about that.
“I guess,” I said, but it sounded wrong. I can’t explain why, but I don’t think it’s the Chronicle. I doubt it would work for someone who obtained it wrongly. I said so to the captain.
He nodded. “I feel that way about it too.”

Bradford is still in custody. He is demanding to be released. He claims to have no memory of attempting to assassinate the Queen and that he is being persecuted because of his nationality. His indignant and offended attitude doesn’t help his cause much. No one believes him. However, he has no memory of the two sentences that Master Senoj’s interrogation spell forced him to utter.
Any or none of these events could be related. Captain Stoddard has written to Imato asking him the same questions. I wanted him to say that he would send for Imato, but he didn’t, and I know better than to ask. Imato is a soldier by choice. I’ve no right to bring him home just because I’m worried about him.
Captain Stoddard says that they have now reached a point in the investigation where they are ready to bring in outside sources. A letter is being sent to King Menion. He was not immediately informed, because the captain wanted to feel sure that he wasn’t trying to “blame mayflies for the weather,” as he put it, when in reality they were just taking advantage of the circumstances. He feels confident now, however, that Bradford was not acting alone and that at least the attempted abduction of my father was not coincidence.
I wish Imato could come home and put wards on the mental home. Captain Stoddard assures me that there is a constant guard keeping watch. I said that I hadn’t noticed a guard.
“You won’t notice them,” said Captain Stoddard proudly, “Their intention is to allow a second abduction attempt to take place. We want to catch these people, not frighten them away.”
I’d rather frighten them away, personally.

February 8th
Despite all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, I managed to survive my mid-terms. I didn’t make the honor roll again. Winter term is hard. Even Gordo didn’t do as well as he expected, although his grades were still close to the top of the list. He is disturbed by the fact that Liop is going to visit you during finals and can’t help his study Iconese during that time. Mendel says it’s good for Gordo to finally have a class that isn’t easy. Mendel’s grades were almost as high as Gordo’s this time.
It seems to me like the term only just started and already we are preparing for finals in March. Dr. Klinkenborg told us all to take deep breaths and remember that Spring Term will be easier, less condensed. I sure hope he’s right.

I’m going to send this letter now, since I’m sure you’re waiting anxiously for news about what happened during the Princes’ Joust. Hardly anyone outside out us even knows that something went wrong.
Give my love to everyone. Gretel received the letter of apology from Caden. She sends lots of thanks for the ginger, which is a traditional Nèahm spice that she doesn’t get very often. Liop, Nysa, and Taty are so excited to come visit! Liop is already counting down the days.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- January 31, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

January 31, 2005
Dear Arri,
If I had known that King Menion himself was going to appear in my sitting room I wouldn’t have been so quick to send my letter off yesterday.
Likely I also would have put on a nicer gown instead of an old traveling dress. Maybe.
Apparently while I was writing to you Jace told Caden that if the king wanted to see me he would have to wait because I wasn’t leaving our suite.
I think Brooksby was secretly thrilled. “His Royal Majesty, King Menion Garedah,” he announced in his most perfectly proper tone as King Menion swept into the room, followed closely by Caden.
Jace leapt smoothly to his feet and bowed low.
I was far less graceful, unfortunately. Due, I’m sure to a combination of surprise and lingering exhaustion. “Your Majesty!” It came out as more of a squawk as I tried to move my lap desk and the blankets Jace had me cocooned in.
“Please don’t get up, Lady Pren. I understand you are still recovering from your efforts yesterday,” the king said.
I think I just gaped at him.
Jace, thankfully, was still in possession of some courtly manners. “Please won’t you sit down, Your Majesty?” As the king did so Jace motioned to Brooksby who was still hovering in the doorway.
Caden cleared his throat. “I’ve explained what happened as best I could, Keish, but I think we should all hear it from you.”
“From the beginning,” the king added.
Just then Brooksby returned with a tea tray (in record time, one of the maids must have already been bringing it up) and Papa slipped into the room behind him.
I poured tea and began my story. No one interrupted, though I think they sometimes wanted to.
When I was finished King Menion asked, “And young Master Brio?”
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “We’d hoped to perhaps hear something in an official report or dispatch.”
King Menion nodded. “There was a dispatch, but it was very short-- mostly informing me that the Elcaran royal family was safe and expressing appreciation for whatever it was you had done. There weren’t any details. I’m sure King Trunsle will appreciate a full explanation. I’ll write to him for you, Lady Pren, since I’m sure you need to rest.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said in relief. I was already going to have to write it out again for Imato-- I didn’t really want to write to King Trunsle.
“However, I will need clarification on a few details if I am to do that,” the king said briskly. “Perhaps we’ll start with the castle wards? You broke them?”
“No, Your Majesty. It was more like realizing I had the key to a locked door. The wards were not compromised at all,” I assured him. “It’s similar to having a ward attuned to someone.”
“I’m afraid magical theory was never a subject I studied deeply.”
“It’s demonstrated easily enough, Your Majesty,” I said.
“Keisha,” Jace said in a low voice.
I smiled at him. “Would you ask Ryland to join us please?”
Jace relaxed visibly and went to the door. I picked up his empty tea cup and placed it alone on a small footstool.
Ryland appeared almost immediately. “Yes, My Lord?”
Jace indicated me as he returned to his seat and Ryland looked at me expectantly.
“I need a small favor, Ryland,” I explained. “Would you please place a physical ward around this teacup? Attuned to Jace?” (With recent events I had taught several wards to Ryland as a precaution.)
“Certainly, My Lady,” Ryland said, formality covering confusion. He held a hand over the teacup for a moment and stepped back.
“Thank you. If you’ll wait a moment,” I told him. I returned to my explanation. “Now there are many types of wards, of course, but a physical ward will prevent anyone or anything from entering a space. Would you try touching the teacup, Caden?” I asked, slightly mischievously.
“No thank you,” he replied succinctly.
Jace laughed. “Come now, Caden. It’s not one of Imato’s wards after all.”
Caden scowled.
“I’ll try,” the king declared. He reached for the cup but his hand stopped an inch away. “Strange,” he said as he pulled back.
“Now Jace,” I said.
Leaning forward, Jace picked up the teacup. He held it out to the king. “Your Majesty.”
King Menion reached for it, but again could not touch the cup. He looked at me thoughtfully. “I think I understand.”
Jace motioned for Ryland, who removed the ward and then removed the tea things also.
After a moment’s contemplation the king looked intently at me. “I understand Sir Etautca is very skilled at wards.”
I smiled. “My cousin is very skilled indeed. It is his gift.”
“Perhaps when he returns from the border he would be willing to come examine the palace wards. I’m sure they are not Brio wards and could stand strengthening.”
“I think he would be honored,” Jace responded.
The king nodded decisively then returned to the current situation. “Was Bradford working alone?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I do not know. I was unable to divine enough about him without arousing suspicion.”
“So this may not actually be over.” It wasn’t a question so I didn’t respond.
King Menion sighed and turned to Caden. “I know I’ve been asking a lot of you, but I’d like you to continue keeping your ears open. For the time being that will likely have to include not openly ‘renewing’ your friendship.”
Caden nodded. “I understand.”
“At some point, we also need to figure out why. Why now? Why Queen Elspeth?”
“Why any of it,” Papa added dryly. “Though certainly the timing cannot be coincidental. Not with the increasing skirmishes at the border and the Sand Tribes joining the fight openly for the first time in at least two decades.”
The king’s face darkened. “Indeed. I am considering calling up another division…”
I missed whatever else he said as the room began to spin. I closed my eyes.
“Keisha?” Jace’s voice was concerned as he put a hand on my arm.
I opened my eyes to find the king standing and everyone staring at me. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I am still more drained than I had thought.” I tried to stand, but Jace wouldn’t let me.
“I have kept you from resting for too long, I’m afraid,” the king said gallantly. “Please accept my best wishes for your recovery.” He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway and turned back to Jace. “I almost forgot. This was with the dispatch I received.”
Jace moved to take the small slip of paper and Papa showed the king out.
Caden stayed behind. “What is it?”
Jace unfolded it and chuckled. “A note from Tulson.”
He held it out and I took it. There was only a single line:

Jace-- WHAT in the name of heaven is going on? -Tulson

“I already have to write to Imato. I refuse to write to Tulson too,” I declared, handing it back. “Besides, he’s asking you.”
Caden said something, but the room was spinning again. Jace started to answer, but broke off abruptly.
I had closed my eyes, but I heard the door open and close again as Caden left.
“Imato can wait, love. You’re going back to bed.”
He lifted me before I could protest. Had I been capable of protesting, that is.
I slept through the rest of the afternoon, the evening… straight through until this morning. Jace had Cass take charge of my classes, insisting that I remain in bed. He’s become very bossy indeed, but I suppose I worried him enough to justify it.

Keaton peeked in earlier. “Jace said I could see you if I didn’t ask you to do any magic.”
He came all the way into the room and I laughed, instantly understanding why Jace had issued such a warning.
“I don’t suppose that had anything to do with the interesting color of you hair?” Keaton’s hair is quite red, but not usually the shocking shade it currently is.
He nodded glumly. “Master Zart says he won’t take me out anywhere as it is. Not even to see Mistress Tish.”
“But you can’t quite manage the spell to fix it?” He shook his head. “What did Jace say?”
“That if I was going to try spells without asking it’s only fair that I should have to suffer the consequences,” Keaton recited.
“Sounds reasonable to me,” I replied with a shrug. “Excellent motivation, really. I’m sure you’ll have it worked out in no time.”
He didn’t seem overly excited about that, but he didn’t dwell on it. “I have a letter from Liop. He gave me some ideas for more experiments. This page doesn’t make sense, though,” he said, holding out a sheet of paper and crinkling his nose.
I took it. “Well, that’s because it’s enchanted and it’s for me. But it takes no magic for me to read it, so I’ll do so,” I said with a small smile.
It was a note from Uncle W. explaining that while he had indeed discussed Liop’s ideas with him and approved them none of his ideas should be attempted without an adult present and there were several that should not be attempted in the same room. I decided to write out the instructions for Master Zart just to be safe.
Keaton told me more about his studies and Thor’s latest antics before leaving to spend more time trying to restore his hair to a less vivid hue.
I turned my attention to writing a description of all that had happened for your brother. Jace came in while I was working on the letter.
“You’ll add my congratulations?” Jace asked when he saw what I was doing.
I hesitated. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it,” I said finally.
Jace looked at me quizzically. “Oh?”
“I just… well, what if he doesn’t know? It’s unfortunate enough that Arri may have learned of it from me first, how much worse if Imato should?”
“You don’t think Gretel told him?”
“I think if she wasn’t certain she may not have said anything. It would be one more thing for him to worry about.”
Jace was silent for several moments as I continued to write. Suddenly he said, “Promise me you’d tell me.”
He’d startled me out of my train of thought and I gave him a questioning look.
He reddened slightly. “In similar circumstances… please promise you’d tell me. No matter how I might worry. Please, Keisha.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Jace smiled and went back to grading midterms.
“We don’t know that she didn’t tell him,” I said quietly.
Jace nodded. “I know. But I’m glad you promised.”

Feb. 1st
After finishing my letter to Imato and writing the above the room was spinning again, which is a sensation I am becoming heartily sick of. I was supposed to grade my own midterms, but Jace noticed, of course, and insisted I go back to bed.
I guess I really overdid it this time-- I fell asleep immediately again.
Caden came while I was sleeping, offering to send a letter to Tulson or Imato using one of the pigeons he has access to if we had a letter ready. Jace sent both letters with him, so Imato should receive mine in only 3 days or so, instead of it taking a week. Caden even promised to use a bird who would wait for a response. I’m not sure whether I’m happy about that or not. How irritated do you think Imato will be with me this time? I’ve been too tired to contemplate such things.
Today, however, I am feeling much more myself, though Cass has my classes again. If this keeps up I may as well just turn the rest of the semester over to her.

Later
I have a personal letter from Queen Elspeth thanking me. I’m not sure what to say in response. Knowing what I knew it’s not as though I could have not acted. Beagan, Corey and Mendel were the ones who actually stopped Bradford. Beagan was the one who was injured.

Feb. 2nd
I swear to you that if Jace didn’t still have me confined to the tower I would likely have to do something very drastic to, or at least about, Gretel’s mother.
Maybe you shouldn’t let Gretel read this part.
I’ve never thought Sir Aoweir controlled Lady Aoweir in any way, but apparently he kept her in check some because now that he’s gone she’s become entirely impossible.
I won’t repeat any of the things she’s said but don’t let Gretel look at her letters. And I refuse to be the one to tell her about Gretel’s condition. I’m not sure anyone should tell her.
I suppose it’s good that Jace is still playing at the tyrannical husband (he laughs as he reads over my shoulder) because a scene with Lady Aoweir is likely not the kind of attention I need right now. Reports are coming in from Rousha, of course, and King Menion has been firm in his support and generous in his praise, but the tide of court gossip does not always change so easily. Rumors are flying-- Caden’s hearing the most ridiculous and sometimes appalling things at parties. It’s starting to make him wonder if Bradford had co-conspirators in Adya.
According to the official reports, Bradford refuses to say anything. With the court magicians still recovering the interrogation has yet to have a magical component, but he may be skilled enough to block even that. At least Brynn should be back in Rousha by now. She spent the week in Darse rather than attending the Winter Festival. Perhaps she can do something.

Feb. 3rd
I have your letter and I’m going to force myself to answer each and every detail in turn… If only to give myself something to do since Jace still insists I am not recovered enough to teach. He finally relented about small magic after Keaton accidentally turned his face blue trying to restore his natural hair color, but in other areas he refuses to yield. I think you’ll agree that it’s a testament to how weak I still am that I’m not fighting him on any of it.

Lunch with Tulson and Clara sounds like a wonderful diversion, though I’m not sure I’d have quite the patience you do for Tulson’s reflections.
I sent a message to Tish asking about the family’s magic but her response said that sadly she herself has none. She rather wishes she did, especially as she watches Keaton try to combine science and magic.
Matches seem very useful, though I haven’t lit a flame with anything but magic in at least a year. I’ve gotten too used to snapping my fingers at the candles, Jace says.
I’m glad they gave Gretel a passenger pigeon. I feel better knowing that she can get letters to and from Imato more quickly.
It’s terribly unfortunate that you had to skip the food stalls, but I’m glad you got out shopping. I didn’t think Gretel was that interested in weaponry-- do you suppose that’s Imato’s influence? I certainly hope it isn’t a bizarre symptom of her condition.
I am so very proud of your healing skills. Soon you’ll have people lined up asking you to heal them-- especially to remove smoke from lungs. Dr. Stoddart should certainly know what his pipe is doing to his lungs.
Personally I’ve never understood why one would breathe in smoke of any kind on purpose.

It had never occurred to me, or to Jace (or Caden for that matter) that Gretel didn’t already know her condition. Jace feels better that she didn’t tell Imato only because she didn’t know. I suppose Gretel wasn’t happy to learn that Caden noticed. He says he’ll send her a letter of apology.

Mendel’s scene was a masterful piece of comedy, though I resent his assertion that I interfered in his enjoyment of the joust. Surely the FlyBy gave a detailed account of who won. You may tell him that next time I shall be truly blatant if only so that he realizes how subtle I was.
As for the idea of Beagan being knighted, I say he deserves it. And I distinctly saw him throw two punches, the second being interrupted by a knife was not strictly his fault.
You’re handling of Mendel was even more masterful-- well done indeed.

I am very relieved to hear that Beagan is well.

Absolutely NO ONE is making me a countess. I refuse. As for de-honoring me, Mendel is welcome to make the suggestion but somehow I doubt I’m lucky enough for anyone to take it seriously.
Jace is declaring loudly, though not seriously, that Mendel would be wise to be more careful in speaking about another man’s wife if he doesn’t want his ears boxed.

Does Mendel have any thoughts as to how to ride a dragon without being eaten?

Of course Taty, Nysa and Liop can come to stay for a week! Keaton will be thrilled. Maybe I’ll give all magic lessons over to Nysa for the week-- it will be finals and would be a huge relief to me to know that Keaton was in good hands on that score.
I wish you could come too, though.

Master Grant seems very helpful. I’m glad you can work with him. Both Tish and I eagerly await descriptions of your experiments.

How does it feel, Arri? It feels exhausting. I’ve slept a ridiculous amount and I know that part of Jace’s protectiveness lies in the thought that if this is not over I may have to do something like that again. I hope not quite on that scale or that level of urgency though.

I think I’ve responded to everything and the sun is actually out so I’m going to send Clotho off with this and sneak away from my keepers. Not even Jace would begrudge me a half hour in my garden now that the sun is out.

Love Always,

Keish

Go to NEXT Letter

Arri- January 26, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Britt) — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 13:00:00 +0000

January 26, 2005
Dear Keish,

Lunch with Lady Clara and Duke Tulson was lovely. We had to eat a little late because of my writing class getting out at one, but it was worth it. The new Duke and Duchess of Lake Lowell will be maintaining what is now called the Lowell mansion. It is in Old Rousha on the northeast side of the castle. Clara says it’s ridiculous for two people without children to live in such a large house, but Tulson says they will fill it soon enough. Clara blushed deeply at that and changed the subject, but I could see that she wasn’t in a condition.
Tulson and Clara do not know anything yet about the person you are looking for in the Elcaran castle. They were very disturbed by the idea that there might be a traitor with such easy access to the royal family. Everything that anyone can think of to do to identify the person is being done, but there’s so little information to go on. Nothing useful was learned from questioning Sir Waldbauer.
We spent the majority of the afternoon talking about Iconei and Aegolius’s family. Aegolius is from the city of Byuing, which is the second largest city in Iconei and possibly the most prominent for science and innovation. They have a university there, called the Byuing State University, that makes Rousha University look like an academy. In Iconei magic is considered inferior to science and Aegolius is unusual in that his parents, when they found out he was magical, hired a tutor to train him. Most Iconeians with magic learn only the most basic of spells. Aegolius comes from an upper-middle class family, the Tekielas who are also one of the oldest magical lines in Byuing. Sadly, their magic is dying. Aegolius has tried to interest his children and grandchildren but with little success. Clara and Tulson met many of Aegolius’s relatives who were as interested in learning about Elcaro as Clara and Tulson were about Iconei. They are all, men and women, very well educated, considering it extremely important. They were shocked to learn that Tulson, as a prince and duke, had only a bachelor’s degree in business and some specialized tutoring in politics. The government of Iconei requires all of its leaders to first obtain a master’s degree in governance, which course of study includes accounting, business, political history, and sociology. I got the idea it’s one of the most difficult degrees to obtain. Many of their leaders have doctorates.
We looked at literally hundreds of reflections taken on the trip. Many of them were pictures of inventions that Clara and Tulson saw during their tour of the university. One daguerreotype was a mess of metal disks and wet cardboard called a “battery” which is supposed to be some sort of power source, although they aren’t sure yet what to do with the power. There were numerous daguerreotypes of experimental unfinished mechanical parts for a machine that sews. If they ever get that machine working, I definitely want one. A simpler invention was a metal thing called a wrench, which is used for tightening things called bolts. I think Master Soloway would be interested in that for his carpentry classes. They also brought back several boxes of toothpick-like pieces of wood called “matches” that can light a fire by scraping them against a rock. I’m not sure they’re really all that better than a good piece of flint, but Clara likes them.
Clara gave me a very stylish Iconese hat as a souvenir. It’s straw-colored and has a wide woven brim with three tiny, red silk flowers sewn on. It doesn’t look quite like anything I’ve seen in Rousha. I must send a sketch of it to Treany.
Eventually, we found ourselves talking about the news in Rousha. When Lady Clara heard that Imato was in one of the army divisions the king called up, she grew very still. After a few minutes she excused herself and left the room. Tulson cast a quizzical glance in her direction then followed her out. They came back several minutes later with a passenger pigeon in a small cage.
“Please give it to Gretel, so she can exchange letters with Imato more quickly,” said Lady Clara, “I can’t imagine what it must be like for her right now.”
I swallowed hard and accepted the bird gratefully.

January 28th
When I gave her the passenger pigeon, Gretel burst into tears, saying it was the kindest present she had ever received. She named her Express, and she is already living up to her name, delivering a letter to Imato.
Gretel was true to her word about the shopping. We yesterday morning and arrived at the market just as it was opening. What Gretel didn’t account for was her upset stomach. We had to completely avoid the food stands because even the scent of them made her stomach turn. She said all the stress from the gossip columns and Imato’s deployment was impacting her stomach. I didn’t say anything. I knew she’d give me a better explanation when she was ready.
Other than food stands, we went in every festival booth and considered buying just about every type of item from clothing to cookware to hammers and saws. We spent rather a long time looking a booth that sold arbalests which fascinated Gretel for some reason. I thought they looked scary.
We spent the entire day, despite the light snowfall, and didn’t get home until after dark. Then we both collapsed in our rooms and were instantly asleep.

Today I left long before dawn so that I could visit Father and still be back in time to have breakfast with Gretel. Dr. Rascada was up to meet me. He has an uncanny was of predicting what days I will come and arranges his schedule so that he can see me at least every other week. It’s very nice of him, since I know he doesn’t normally start work so early. Father was asleep and didn’t wake up. I watched, disappointed for a while and then decided to go into the little chapel to sit and think before returning to Gretel’s house. I was trying to decide if there was a way I could encourage Gretel to tell me about her condition without her knowing that I already knew.
I was interrupted by the sound of violent coughing. I turned around and was surprised to see an older couple had entered from the back of the room. I recognized them from other visits to the home, although I had never spoken with them. The husband was the one coughing and I suddenly remembered that I had heard him coughing the last time I saw them, and every other time I could remember. The cough was chronic and I began to wonder what caused it.
“Excuse us,” said the wife reddening, “we didn’t mean to disturb you.”
I reddened too, realizing that I had been staring at her husband.
“You’re not disturbing…” I trailed off, “I was just… I was wondering why your husband coughs so much?”
“Well,” said the woman slowly, “he used to be a smoker, for quite a few years. He stopped a couple of years ago, but it seems to be too late. We thought the smoke would eventually work its way out of his lungs, but there’s been no change. You should take a lesson from that, child.” She put a hand lovingly on her husband’s shoulder and smiled kindly.
Smoke in the lungs. I hadn’t ever thought about smoking cigars in that way before: contamination. Memories of the boy fairy and the smoke in Liop’s and Glory’s lungs came immediately to my mind. A kind of excitement gripped me.
“Maybe,” I said, thinking out loud, “Excuse me, but maybe I could help?”
“Oh?” asked the women, smiling with bewilderment.
I explained about the fire and the natron and the smoke. Soon I had her husband’s attention too. His eyes widened.
“You think you could pull smoke particles from my lungs?” he asked.
“They’d be similar to wood smoke, wouldn’t they?” I asked.
“Seems like it,” he said.
We were so excited that we immediately went in search of Dr. Rascada. He was fascinated by the idea and offered us a room to use. The husband, a blacksmith named Master Karford, lay down on the bed and I put a hand on his shoulder. I sent the magic in and looked at his lungs.
It wasn’t the same as healing Liop or even the boy fairy. Years of continual smoke exposure had built up in his lungs until nearly half of the air sacs were clogged and unusable. I was startled to realize that this time I actually knew names, from my anatomy class, for what I was looking at. The bronchioles, branches of the lungs were dark with soot. I tugged at a bit of it and it came loose but hardly made a significant change in the damage to his lungs. It took me all morning to clean out the particles. Dr. Rascada sent a boy to let Gretel know I would be late so that she wouldn’t worry. When I was finished, Master Karford took several deep, steady breaths.
“Amazing,” he said, “I feel thirty years younger.”
The couple thanked me so much that I felt embarrassed. I was excited about what I’d accomplished. I wanted to tell Master Ujifil about it. I wanted to write you a letter. I healed someone!
The rest of the day passed by me in a blur. I kept thinking about the morning, wondering if Mother had ever healed someone’s lungs. I also wanted to go to Odsreq and tell Dr. Stoddart exactly what that pipe is doing to his lungs and he really should stop smoking it immediately. It doesn’t just smell bad and make your breath short for a little while: they’re completely dangerous.

January 30th

Yesterday was crazy. You already know that.
I’m going to start with my side of the story, since I don’t have your side yet anyway.
“Arri, I’m not feeling well at all,” said Gretel yesterday morning as she stared at a half-eaten slice of toast, “You might want to stay away from me today.”
“You’re not contagious,” I said carelessly, wanting her to finish getting ready so we could go to the Princes’ Joust, “Moving around might help.”
“But I think all the stress may have turned into the flu,” she said.
I looked up at her, worried. She looked about the same as the day before.
Gretel put her head in her hands.
“Stress doesn’t normally make me this sick,” she continued, “I was fine when we were planning the wedding.”
Mother taught me a long time ago to never be the first to say anything about a woman’s condition, no matter how obvious. I didn’t say anything. I just waited.
“Of course, the wedding was mainly positive stress,” Gretel was mostly talking to herself, “and this is mainly negative stress. But then when Liop was abducted, that was very negative stress and I felt a little queasy sometimes, but not nearly as sick as this. I hope I’m not developing Mother’s nerves…”
“Um, Gretel,” I interrupted uncertainly, “maybe you’re worrying too much… I mean you’re delicate and…”
“I am not delicate!” Gretel said sharply, “I’ve never been delicate in my life. I’m built like my father, not—”
It was too much. I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Then I reddened and went still.
“I’m not!” repeated Gretel, her temper rising, “I’m no more delicate that you are. Arri?”
I had put my hands over my face.
“Did your mother ever tell you what it was like… um… before you were born?”
The room became very still. I peeked at Gretel through my fingers. She was as red as I felt.
“No,” she said slowly, “Arri, are you… am I…? How can you tell?”
“I can tell,” I said simply, “but I thought you knew. I mean, most women do, because there are symptoms.”
“What are the symptoms?” Gretel asked, “I’ve never known anyone, at least not very well, who was… like this. I’ve been meaning to ask someone, maybe Lady Pren, but it didn’t seem urgent. Are you sure, Arri?” She frowned doubtfully at me. “I’m not any bigger than I was when I got married. Can everyone tell?” The pitch of her voice rose nervously.
“It’s too early for most other people to tell,” I assured her, “I have a gift with this sort of thing. My mother had it too. I can tell pretty early, sometimes before the woman knows herself. But I never say anything. Most women like to keep it a secret as long as possible and saying something would be violating that right. I thought you were doing that…”
Gretel put her head back in her hands.
“I thought it was stress,” she moaned. Then she looked up sharply, “Can Imato tell? Does he have this gift?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, “He’s never said anything.”
“He wouldn’t,” she grumbled, “He’d think it was inappropriate.”
I thought she was being awfully unfair to Imato. After all, they’re married. I said so.
Gretel sighed.
“We’ve all been so obsessed with the gossip rags and the border skirmishes, I haven’t given anything else much thought. Okay, Arri,” she looked at me curiously, “tell me everything you know about my condition. What are the symptoms?”
We talked for a long time. The fact is that I know quite a bit about this condition. Mother was expecting twice within my memory, although the first time didn’t last. It was from this that I learned how important it is not to say anything. Then when Liop was coming, I was old enough to ask a lot of questions and Mother answered as many as she could, although some, she said, would have to wait till I was ready to marry.
Gretel has never learned anything. It’s not something her mother talks about and with very few relatives and no married friends… well, she just doesn’t know anything except that a woman gets bigger. As we talked, Gretel’s excitement mounted. She was even able to eat a bit. Suddenly she burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked.
“I said I wasn’t delicate,” Gretel giggled, “I said I was built like my father!”
We laughed for a long time over that. Then Gretel started to cry.
“Imato doesn’t know,” she sobbed, “How am I going to write this in a letter? He’s going to think I’m a complete idiot.”
“He won’t think that,” I said, “I bet you’re not the only new wife this has happened to.”
“And Arri, what if it’s like… like with your mother…”
“It won’t be,” I interrupted quickly, “Mother was resistant to magical healing, but you aren’t, and I’m a healer. I won’t let anything happen like that.”
We decided not to go to the Princes’ Joust. Instead we stayed home and traded our comedy novels to read. Gretel still had trouble eating, but I think it’s better that she wasn’t at the joust, considering what happened there.

It was late afternoon when Emily announced the unexpected arrival of both Master Corey Gray and Mendel. Gretel and I looked at each other in surprise. Reluctantly, I set my novel aside.
“We’ll meet them in a few minutes in the parlor,” said Gretel. Then we both rushed to our rooms to change into more suitable dresses for company.
“But Mendel and Corey hardly know each other,” I said, meeting Gretel in the hallway and heading downstairs to the parlor.
“It must be something about the man Keish is looking for at the castle,” Gretel responded. We hurried.
As we entered the parlor both Corey and Mendel stood and bowed to us.
“Good afternoon Lady Etautca, Lady Arri,” said Mendel with so much solemnity that I knew immediately he’d been up to some mischief and was struggling to hold it in.
Corey echoed the sentiment and Gretel invited them to sit down.
They both started to talk at once, but Corey check himself and let Mendel lead.
“To be short,” he said, “the queen’s life is spared and Master Beagan is to be knighted.”
“What?” we all asked, including Corey.
“And I would appreciate it if your cousin would find some more subtle way of interrupting my social engagements,” concluded Mendel, “I entirely missed the end of the joust and haven’t the slightest idea who won.”
He folded his arms and waited for our response. I could see he was enjoying himself immensely. Corey looked confused. Gretel looked at me. I refused to rise to the bait.
“Thank you for the information,” I said as calmly as I could, “I am most relieved.”
Mendel’s brows arched and he blinked.
“There’s more to it than that,” said Corey finally, “and I don’t think Beagan is going to be knighted. He only threw one punch.”
“It was a good one,” said Mendel.
“Would you please begin at the beginning?” asked Gretel finally.
Corey started again, but he was confused about how exactly you spoke to him, so Mendel jumped in with explanations. I don’t need to tell you about most of it.
“We came here,” concluded Corey, “because you can get a letter to Keish faster than anyone. She’ll want to know that Beagan is at the hospital, but they should release him tonight. His arm needed some stitching, nothing serious.”
“Bradford is in custody,” continued Mendel, “I’ll let you know what they do with him, but Keish will probably have letters from the king and queen with that information. She is, after all, the hero of the day. She would probably be made a Countess or something if she were in Elcaro. As it is, they’ll think of something. Maybe King Menion will do the honors.”
Gretel smiled with amusement, “Countess Lakeisha. She hates being called ‘Lady’ so much, I wonder what she’ll say to this.”
“I’ll suggest that a better reward would be de-honoring her,” volunteered Mendel, “The King can strip her title so she never has to use it again.”
Gretel laughed. Corey clearly doesn’t know Mendel very well. He looked shocked.
By then it was time for dinner, so Gretel invited Corey and Mendel to dine with us. The cook and Emily were rather flustered by the number of guests, but they managed to come up with enough for all of us. After dinner, Corey excused himself to help bring Beagan home from the hospital. They’ve been friends all their lives.
Mendel stayed to ask what our plans were for the next day and invite us to join him and Gordo. After that Gretel had to run upstairs suddenly because dinner didn’t agree with her stomach. Emily went to help and that left me and Mendel alone. I wanted to ask him if he was mad at me for not saying much about the gossip columns, but he didn’t seem mad and I didn’t like to bring it up if he wasn’t. But then I worried started to worry about it, so finally I said: “I’m sorry for not saying anything about the gossip columns and trying to find out about the political comments.”
Mendel looked surprised.
“You hate the gossip columns,” he said, “why would you want to talk to me about them? I almost never read them either.”
“Well, you’re connected to the royal family, and they were involved, and…” I trailed off uncertainly.
“Tulson filled me in on everything,” Mendel responded, shaking his head, “and none of us knew it was going to come to an assassination attempt on my aunt.” He shook his head, looking as confused by that part as I felt. “I don’t always tell you my business. Why should you have to tell me all of yours?”
He smiled and I felt better.
“However,” Mendel continued brightly, “I demand that you inform me the next time you plan to disappear with a magical creature on some distant quest. It will save me a lot of time and trouble trying to catch up. May I suggest a dragon next time? I’ve always wanted to ride a dragon.”
And that ended the evening.

February 1st

Your letter came last night, but I was too tired from the Winter Ball to do more than read it. I think I’ve already responded to most of it. Everyone is very impressed that you were able to break through the castle wards.
It was hard telling Gretel that her father’s division has been called to the Grestian border, but she took comfort from the idea that he and Imato will be able to protect each other. I think if it weren’t for her condition, I would have a hard time not convincing her to follow them.
Liop will be thrilled to hear that Caden and Keaton are sending him another alchemy kit. We all had dinner tonight with the Prens. After dinner Gretel and Lady Pren disappeared into a room together to talk, and Uncle W., Nysa, Liop, Taty, Sir Pren, and I all sat around the parlor talking. Liop was scheming about how to come and visit you and Keaton. He gets a spring break the second week in March. I suggested that might be a good time to go. Liop was thrilled, but then we came to the problem of how to accomplish it. Because of the Gazette articles, Uncle W. feels that he should stay in Rousha for a while. Nysa wants to come, but she isn’t comfortable traveling with just Liop. I can’t come because my break is only a couple of days long. Then Taty piped up that she would like to come. Sir Pren gave his permission and Nysa said that having Taty along would be perfect.
So all that remains is to ask you. Can Liop, Nysa, and Taty come visit for a week? Now I’ve asked and they are eagerly awaiting your response.

Master Emil Grant is a young man in his middle twenties. His mother is from Nèahm and he has her olive skin and black hair, rather like the Aoweirs. His eyes, however, are incongruously green. His is very tall and thin, and when he talks you have to pay close attention because he keeps his voice at the level of a whisper. He wears glasses with thin black frames around large round lenses which magnify his eyes out of proportion.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Etautca,” he said when I entered the lab. He motioned to an empty chair, “I’m so sorry to hear that Sir Etautca cannot join you.”
I repeated the sentiment and sat down. In my hands I held a piece of paper, folded in on itself many times and in my nervousness I had to be careful not to shred it.
“I have a hypothesis,” I began awkwardly.
“That’s very good,” said Master Grant.
He waited while I unfolded my piece of paper and looked at it. I had reread the chapter in my Beginning Biology book on how to create a hypothesis very carefully.
“My question is,” I told him, “What happens when you place a ward around an individual cell?”
Master Grant nodded, smiling slightly. Encouraged, I continued.
“I gathered information. My resources are the article called Wards to Prevent Bacteria from Passing in the May 2004 issue of Troilubus Iconetha; also we want to use spells from the book Advanced Warding Techniques; and a microscope and some samples of cells.”
Master Grant nodded. I took a deep breath, hoping that I was following the scientific method correctly.
“So for our hypothsis, we propose, well I propose—because I haven’t had a letter back from Imato, but I think he’ll agree with me on this—I/we propose that a ward around an individual cell will increase our ability to control how that cell is affected by outside forces like water, air, other cells outside the ward, and maybe other spells.”
I looked hopefully up at Master Grant. He was still smiling a little, his hands behind his back.
“That’s a very well thought out proposal,” he said finally.
“Thank you,” I said. I looked down at my much-creased piece of paper, suddenly wondering if I should have kept it nice so that I could give it to him, like I would hand in an assignment to a professor.
Master Grant looked around at the equipment in the lab.
“I’ve been trying to replicate the experiment in Troilubus Iconetha,” he informed me, “I hear that you are apprenticed to a healer. I have no magical talent. I was wondering if you would be willing to perform spells for me and we can look at the results together. When Sir Etautca returns from the war, he can join us.”
“Yes, I would like that,” I said.
“Eventually,” continued Master Grant, “we can try out your hypothesis as well.”
It was as much as I had hoped for.
“When do you want to start?” I asked.
“I should have some time in my schedule next week. What is your class schedule?”
I told him my schedule and together we settled on February 10th before my biology class. Midterms will be over by then, so I should have a little time to work on the new project. I’m so excited I can hardly wait. I like Master Grant very much.

I really should send this letter now so that you can read it. Beagan is doing very well. His family has invited Gretel and I to dine with them so that they can hear our side of the story. Although I think most of the excitement is on their side and your side.
You saved the life of the Queen of Elcaro, Keish! How does that feel?

Love,
Arri

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