Sand Ch. 2: The Golden Spark

Lady Eirana fell back onto the bed of her quarters, exhausted. It had been a long journey from her fief, Lendarge, and her first day of studies at the University of Delixia hadn’t been easy, either. She was naturally quite intelligent, but the classes she had signed up for weren’t entirely entry level.
As she stared at the ceiling, waiting for the jengda assigned to her to get her dress for dinner, she realized how fortunate she was to be there alive. She would never forget the terror she had felt when she woke up to see an assassin standing over her, knife raised, the night before she left. When she screamed, he had run, and every guard in the castle had taken up guard.
However, they had returned empty handed in the morning. No one was able to determine who they were, where they went, or who they worked for. Her staff had advised her to stay, to not take the risk of the open road, but she had disguised herself as a common peasant and left a jengda to pose as herself in Lendarge. When a messenger had turned up the next day with news of the jengda’s death, the message was clear: someone wanted her dead.
She got up and changed for dinner. The jengda plaited her long, thick, curly black hair and chatted pleasantly with her. Eirana smiled. It wasn’t often one met a jengda who actually cared about the people they served. This one, which had arrived in Delixia only a few days before she had, made a pleasant companion.
“Do you know who they are yet, Lady?” the jengda asked as she fished for a necklace. “They sound like they’re hired by someone who doesn’t want to be caught with blood on their hands, so to make them seem only indirectly responsible.”
“We can only guess, Keri,” replied Eirana wearily. “and hope they haven’t tracked me here.”
Keri clasped the necklace around Eirana’s tall, stately neck. “It is doubtless they have. If I were you, I’d take extra precautions until they are caught. Hired assassins, especially well-trained ones, will go to any limits to make sure they finish the job.” Then, as though suddenly realizing how bold she was being for a jengda, Keri assumed a much lighter tone and asked, “So how was the University?”
“Interesting,” Eirana answered as Keri found her shoes. “I really enjoyed the magic theory classes by Sir Norbert; he’s actually quite an excellent teacher. I also liked the sh’kir lessons I got.” She waited for Keri to finish putting her shoes on and stood up. “Thank you, Keri. Guess I’ll be seeing you in the morning wake-up shift, then.”
“Of course,” Keri said. As Eirana turned to leave, she added, “Watch yourself.”
Eirana laughed. “I will.”
At dinner, Eirana found that the recent attempts on her life were a topic of great discussion. Everyone there seemed to have their own opinions about who was behind them and what was going to happen to her. They all wanted her to give an account of what had happened, which she gave only halfheartedly. When it came down to it, she would rather they stopped talking about it and mind their own business.
As soon as the dessert course was over, she excused herself from the table and immediately returned to her quarters. She had homework to do already, and wanted to get to it before it got too late. She worked at it for a while, then changed into her nightgown (with assistance from her other jengda) and drifted off to sleep.
She sat bolt upright, her mysterious gplden eyes opened wide. Judging by the patterns of moonlight on the floor, it was around midnight, and she could swear she heard a scuffle outside her door.
She continued to listen. Should she get up and open the door? It could be anyone, even another assassin. It could also just be another student returning from one of the pubs on the edge of the lake that sat in the heart of Oak Rock Forest which bordered the University.
Either way, she couldn’t stand it any more. She silently slipped out of bed and sneaked towards her door cautiously. She picked up her sh’kir which lay on the table next to the door and slowly swung it open.
“Yonba!” she exclaimed as she attempted to grasp the most unusual scene that met her eyes.
What she saw was the jengda Keri in a heated combat with the same assassin she’d seen in Lendarge weeks earlier. Much to her surprise, Keri appeared to be winning, and as she watched, Keri managed to disarm the assassin and hold him at bay with her daggers as she reached for some rope with which to bind him up.
The racket of the fight had woken up many of the other nobles in the other rooms of the hall, and soon there was a small crowd gathered around Keri and the assassin. They pressed forward curiously, and all seemed to be asking the same question: What happened?
As the commotion grew louder, nobles from other floors began to add to the crowd. Confusion added to the crowd’s curiosity, and whispers about what a jengda could be doing with a set of daggers (illegally, nontheless) in the middle of a hallway at night. Slowly, through mistaken assumptions, a panic spread, and soon there was chaos.
“She will murder us all in the night!” shouted one frightened man with balding hair.
“Eirana’s assassin!” yelled a woman.
After much screaming and frightened hysteria in which Eirana could discern no real meaning, someone finally managed to restore order with a gigantic bang! “Everybody calm down!” he commanded. “Go back to your quarters. All of you. I will fetch Lady Isabelle; she will take care of this.”
This seemed to please the crowd, and as they dispersed, the man spotted Lady Eirana and asked, “is this the assassin?”
“Yes,” Eirana answered, thinking he meant the man who was bound up on the floor.
“Then you have nothing to fear, Lady,” he said. “I will make sure she dies for this.” He turned to the struggling form on the floor. “I am sorry about this, sir.”
Lady Eirana could not believe her ears. “She saved my life! He’s the assassin!”
“Oh,” said the man, realizing his mistake. “In that case, could you help me escort her to Lady Isabelle and him to Sir Niclin?”
Lady Eirana nodded and added, “I would like to have a word with this Isabelle before the jengda is punished.”
“Very well, then.” He walked over to where Keri sat with her daggers held out in a defensive position and commanded softly, “Give those to me and things will go a lot more smoothly for you.”
Keri was hesitant, but slowly she reluctantly handed the daggers over to him. She slowly stood up and allowed herself to be bound with the curtain ties of Eirana’s windows. The man handed her over to Eirana and forced the assassin to his feet.
Lady Eirana seemed to sense Keri’s feelings of impending dread as they drew nearer to Lady Isabelle’s quarters. She wondered why they were there. Surely they would excuse her breach of the Jengda’s Code once they learned it had saved her life! Or at least, she thought they would.
They reached Lady Isabelle’s quarters. The man rapped on her door three times with his knuckles and was answered immediately as it door swung open to show an olive-skinned woman with straight black hair and dark brown eyes, which flashed with dark fire as she asked, “Who is it this time, Moks?”
“The new one,” he replied, shoving Keri into view, “was found not only in possession of weapons, but caught using them.”
“Why did you wake me up, then?” Lady Isabelle asked irritably. “You know what to do.”
“A good beating with the custom whip, then, eh?” he grinned evilly. “About twenty lashes, I think the penalty is.”
Keri shuddered.
“But-” Eirana stammered, looking at the terrified expression on Keri’s face.
“But what?” Moks and Lady Isabelle both turned to look at her with bemused expressions playing on their faces.
“K- I mean, the jengda, saved my life with those blades!” she exclaimed.
“So?” Moks asked.
“I’d be dead if she hadn’t been armed!” She was shocked as neither Moks nor Isabelle’s faces changed. “You aren’t actually going to- to-”
“And your problem with that is what?” Lady Isabelle asked her blankly.
“It just seems that if-”
“Listen, Lady,” Moks said, “if you’re going to stand here and argue with us all night, be my guest, but it won’t do you any good. The law is the law, and there’s no interfering with it or changing it. None. If I were you, I’d go back to bed and get some beauty sleep for classes tomorrow and stop sticking my nose in other people’s business.”
Lady Eirana tried to argue, but the words got stuck in her throat. How, she wondered, could these people be so cruel? She did not know the jengda well, but it still felt wrong to walk away from someone who had saved her life. She so wished there was something to be done for Keri, for her to not have to suffer this...
“Wait,” she said. “Let there be substitution. Let me take her lashes instead.”
Moks and Isabelle laughed. Keri, who had been silent up to that point, spoke.
“You can’t do that, Lady!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “The whip we are talking about has bits of steel and shards of glass that dig into your back and drag through. Besides, I don’t think it’s legal.”
“It’s not,” Lady Isabelle growled, “so if you’ll all excuse me I’ll be getting what sleep I can.”
With that, she turned and retreated into the depths of her quarters,
“You’d best be doing the same,” Moks said to Lady Eirana with a hint of a threat in his voice. “As for you,” he turned to Keri, “I’ll take care of you right after breakfast tomorrow morning.” He took the assassin, who had been silent through all of this, and led him down the corridor, leaving Lady Eirana and Keri alone in the hallway.
“Keri, I’m really, really sorry,” sobbed Eirana. “You saved my life, and look how I’ve repaid you.”
Keri gave her a comforting pat on the back. “You didn’t do that, they did. You did your best. I just really wanted to get that assassin off your back so badly I forgot the weapons rule. My finest daggers! I’m not just new to Delixia, but to this trade as well,” she added. “I should’ve read the rules more carefully. Now you go get some rest; you’ve got another day of classes to go through tomorrow.”
Eirana quietly consented. She felt horrible inside as they parted ways. Keri was a very likeable person, and obviously had some excellent moral fiber as well. She cringed to imagine bits of metal and glass going through her back.
Somehow, though, Eirana thought as she drifted off to sleep, it seemed that she had unleashed something very powerful that night. She couldn’t really explain it, but she felt as though somehow she had set off the first of a set of chain reactions that would let loose a force more powerful than her, more powerful than Keri, even more powerful than all the scholars of Delixia put together.
But, she reasoned in her last waking thought, she must be imagining it. Nothing as trivial as this could ever lead to something that big.
Keri woke her up in the morning as always, though the jengda gave no sign of fear or dread of what was to befall her after breakfast. Instead, she chattered lightly with her in her normal fashion as though nothing had happened the night before or would happen a mere hour from then. This puzzled Eirana, but she decided it was best to play along and not bring up the subject of the punishment.
Eirana wasn’t able to concentrate on her studies that morning, even though she was quite adept at them. She just couldn’t shake from her head an image of Keri’s pleasant, calm face wracked with pain. At her lunch break she even sought out the first jengda she could find, a small boy who was cleaning the Great Hall’s fireplace.
“Excuse me, little boy,” Lady Eirana asked politely, “but do you know where I can find the jengda who serves as my handmaiden in the afternoon, goes by the name of Keri?”
The boy nearly fell over in shock by being addressed by a noblewoman, but soon regained his composure. “She normally washes the beakers in Sir Dirham’s classroom at this hour to make them ready for the next class, but Lady Isabelle assigned her somewhere else this morning.” He hesitated, as if wondering whether what he was about to say would offend Eirana. “She now cleans all of the privies on the second and third floors of the east wing between our lunch and her afternoon shift with you.”
Eirana grimaced. All things considered, she desperately hoped Keri would have time to get herself cleaned up before coming to help her change for dinner. “Anything else happen to her at breakfast today other than the reassignment?” she asked, hoping that there might be a tiny possibility that they had lightened up the punishment.
The boy continued to clean the fire place. “Why do you care?” He seemed to be unwilling to answer, as though she were asking him a very personal question.
“Humor me,” Eirana replied with a commanding glint in her golden eyes.
“Well, she got herself into a spot of trouble last night, by the sound of it. The overseer, that’s Lady Isabelle, gave us all a good lecture on how we should never, ever even think about carrying weapons or using them, and had Moks- he’s in charge of making sure we all follow the Code- bring Keri up. Then they gave us a demonstration of why we shouldn’t carry arms-” he immediately fell silent and scrubbed the grate more vigorously.
For a moment, Eirana was afraid she had offeneded him, but after a minute of silence he spoke again. “Her back was encrusted with blood, and it ran everywhere. She didn’t scream- it would have made it a lot more bearable to watch if she had. Instead she just stood there with her teeth clenched, muttering something in another language. You nobles really can’t imagine what it’s like to watch something like that and picturing yourself in her place... it was terrible. But,” he straightened up and hardened his face, “we are not supposed to sit and imagine things. No, we do our duty, follow the Code, and keep out of trouble. You, Lady, should keep to your own business and not worry about the doings of the jengdas.”
As she returned to her classes, Eirana reflected on this. She had never much thought about or even cared about the jengdas in her castle in Lendarge or of the University. What shocked her more than the willingness of the noble in charge to give out heavy punishment without much thought was the way the jengdas seemed to accept this as a normal part of life and completely natural. They didn’t seem to care about the punishment being dealt to them at all. It was, to them, merely like stubbing your toe on a door; it hurts momentarily and you might find yourself swearing profanely, but you get over it. Life moves on.
This amazed Eirana altogether. All her life she had strived to maintain a just treatment of not only her peers, but her inferiors as well when all the time there was an entire mass of people right under her nose bound by laws which made sense in themselves, but were attached to sentences so terrible she shuddered to even begin to imagine what they felt like. Her memory flitted back to the jengda she had used to impersonate her. Would they still be alive if she had found another way?


When Eirana returned to her quarters, Keri was there as usual with Eirana’s dress for dinner already sitting out to air. She looked very pale and moved very slowly, as though every move she made pained her. However, she seemed determined not to let it interfere with her tasks, and she talked with Eirana as lightheartedly as ever, though her voice grew thin from time to time.
“What did you study today, Lady?” Keri asked with weak cheer as she aided Eirana with her corset strings. “I heard that someone smashed a jar full of black ink in front of the choral-master’s classroom. Glad I didn’t have to clean that one up.”
“We’ve been studying the basic elements that make up everything,” Eirana replied. She turned around to face Keri. “What about you? What happened this morning?”
Keri nearly dropped what she was holding. She stared at Eirana, her face in the strangest mixed expression of surprise, embarrassment, and pain. Then, as if she suddenly remembered where she was, she shook her head, lips tight, and continued about her business. “I am new to this job, Lady. It is not my place to judge it.”
“I’m not asking you to judge anything,” Eirana pressed on. “I just want you to tell me what happened.”
Keri’s face now assumed a very closed look that could easily have been made of marble. “If you really want to know, they flogged me. Period. Just like that. Gave me a shift change, too. Being the person you are, you probably want to know how I feel about it: I don’t. I don’t feel anything. It has been a month since I last felt. I feel not wind, whip, or worry about the future. No, Lady, don’t ask me anything else or I’ll feel them again.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, then Keri spoke again, this time, however, with an unrecognizable look about her that made Eirana’s stomach reel unpleasantly inside.
“But then again, if I do not feel, I have no heart. If I have no heart-” her voice broke, “then I am dead.” She seemed to be holding back tears. “I have failed them, and now there are none of us left, for we are all dead. I have betrayed them!” Her face, contorted with grief, suddenly changed. She seemed to be looking far away into some better place than she survived in. “But He is not dead. He survived the world’s formation, and are we not written upon His heart even when we have passed into darkness? And since He is alive, I am alive.” She closed her eyes tranquilly and began to whisper in a language Eirana did not know, then snapped them open again.
She coughed in embarrassment. “Well, here’s your dress-”
Eirana just stared at her with curiosity. She knew this was rude, but she couldn’t help it. As she slipped the dress over her head, she asked, “What was your trade before you became a jengda?”
“That is for me alone to know,” Keri replied. “It is gone, it is past, and the chances of return grow more and more faint with every passing second. Forget what you just heard me say, if you can. You look like someone I can trust, but it’s still not wise to spill every secret to a noble. Don’t take offense, Lady, but my business is my own, as is yours.” She began to brush Eirana’s hair. “Now tell me: how was your day?”
“It was okay.” Somehow she just couldn’t shake off her curiosity. “Who is the Man you spoke of? The one who survived the world’s creation?”
“Ah, Lady,” Keri smiled warmly, “He is not a man. He is the One who saw us before we were born. He is the One who made the ground shake and the sky thunder when His people were persecuted. He is the One who touched all sentient beings with the Blessing, that they may learn more of His goodness. He is the One who sees everything and forgets nothing.”
“What is His name?”
“His name is sacred, and therefore not to be used lightly. When His prophet Bashkt first heard it, it was a gift to us. His name,” she said, “is Lr A’dl.”
Somehow the name filled Eirana with an overwhelming sense of peace which she had not felt for a long time. It seemed to say a million things at once which whispered in a thousand voices. Somehow, she felt that if she could just single out one of those voices and hear everything they had to say, she would learn more than all the centuries of study the scholars had gleaned. She wanted the jengda to keep on talking about Lr A’dl forever, so she could forever have that peace... but soon, she found regretfully, she was ready for dinner.
“How can I learn more about this Lr A’dl?” Eirana asked as she opened her door.
Keri thought for a second, then answered, “Tell you what: I’ll leave you a copy of some of Bashkt’s writings here for you. They aren’t in Common, but I can translate fast enough.”
“Hold on a second,” Eirana puzzled, “you’re literate?”
Keri frowned. “Yes. What’s so unusual about that? Just about everyone is, aren’t they?”
“No,” Eirana replied, “they aren’t. You’re the first literate jengda I’ve come across in eighteen years. Not only that, but most of the nobles entering the University can’t read and have to learn before they can go on with most of their classes.”
Keri raised a surprised eyebrow. “Really?” she said. “I thought this was supposed to be the most literate country in the world next to Manicolus.”
“It is,” Eirana said, “but that’s just because of the University and the rough estimate on those people that live in the desert, I forget what they’re called...”
“Rashdans,” Keri finished immediately. “Yes; all of them above the age of five are literate.”
Eirana gave Keri a puzzled stare. “How do you know that?”
“I have my sources,” Keri replied. “So... why are the Rashdans and the people of the University the only ones who can read?”
“Where have you been for the last ten years?” Eirana exclaimed. “The High Court abandoned all of the elementary schools to pay for the battle fleet to the Desca Isles a decade ago, claiming that the people didn’t need to read: they needed to get to work. There have been, of course, those who kept on teaching after the schools were shut down, but when they couldn’t pay taxes from lack of salary, most of that ended.”
“That’s not right!” Keri was horrified. “Every child deserves the right to an education. Literacy opens up a whole new world of communication, creativity, and understanding. How do people in distant villages send messages to each other?”
“For the most part, they never get to know people in distant villages,” Eirana answered. “They are far too busy scratching out a living to care much about the outside world.”
“Those uneducated children are our future!” She started to say something, than stopped. She smiled wryly. “Oops, almost committed sedition there. Wouldn’t want to get myself in trouble again, eh?” The smile fell as she saw the look on Eirana’s face: one of someone piecing something together.
“You are very interesting, Keri,” Lady Eirana said. “I’ve never known a jengda to be this bold and straightforwardly honest before. You must have quite the story to tell, if it could ever be extracted from you.”
“Extracted, Lady?” Keri winced. “I know it’s not my place to say, but it would be nice if this morning’s pleasantries could heal before I get tortured again. Besides, even if you tortured me right now with it practically raw you wouldn’t get anything out of it except for a very tired, twisted jengda.”
Lady Eirana chuckled. “I would never do anything that obvious. By the way, I can help you find a healer. She’s very understanding and has many years of experience.”
“No,” Keri said suddenly, “no healers. And you ought to be getting off to dinner, if it’s not too bold to say. I know nobles don’t have any reason to honor the rights of privacy, but I would like to request that you stop prying into my personal matters.”
Lady Eirana reluctantly obeyed and went off to dinner, but she still puzzled over the jengda’s remarks. She knew it was not possible that this could be a simple peasant that couldn’t pay their taxes. It could be that the jengda was one of those who continued to teach despite the High Council’s withdrawal of funds from the school system, but Keri’s ignorance of the matter seemed genuine. Perhaps she was a foreigner; she certainly had enough forgetfulness concerning the laws set down by the High Court to qualify.


The months passed by on swift wings. Keri remained to serve as Eirana’s jengda in the afternoons, though after that incident, she was as silent as a brick concerning any information about herself. She was still as kind to Eirana as ever, always keeping a sympathetic ear to all of Eirana’s fears and problems.
A sort of bond grew between the two women, despite the differences in their social class. Keri not only listened to Lady Eirana’s problems, but gave advice to help solve them as well. She would tell Eirana stories about Lr A’dl as she brushed her hair and braided it in the evenings. Eirana, in turn, would talk about her classes at the University, which Keri seemed to find fascinating.
All through this, though, Eirana always had this nagging sensation in the back of her mind a certain curiosity as to where this unusually intelligent jengda had come from. It was apparent that Keri had never slipped anything to any other noble, for they did not seem to know anything about her beyond the fact that she was a jengda. It didn’t seem likely that she had confided in another jengda, either, for all of them were amazingly vague, though among jengdas, she realized, this was common of everything.
All things considered, Lady Eirana was justified in what she did one day when she took Keri to The Prankster’s Roost for supper, a treat after a hard day of exams for Eirana and scrubbing the entire Great Hall alone as a punishment for accidentally breaking a torch bracket the day before for Keri. Eirana knew it was backhand and perhaps a bit unwise, but it was the only way she could get Keri’s story.
“I’ll have some bread and a Dars,” Eirana told the waiter. “Keri?”
“Some mirkith,” said Keri, “and perhaps some ikaras tomatoes.” The waiter stared at her blankly. Keri coughed and smiled sheepishly. “Some tea and biscuits.”
As the waiter scurried off to fill their order, Lady Eirana asked, “What’s mirkith? And ikaras?”
“Oh,” Keri blushed embarrassedly, “mirkith is a very complicated drink involving many different spices and some citrus juice. Ikaras is a way of cooking meat and vegetables using rocks.”
“Rocks?” Eirana raised an eyebrow. “How do you-”
“There’s this tribe called the D’nal Threth who have these large, flat rocks they have cleaned. When the sun is at its height, these rocks get so hot they use them to cook with. It adds a certain extra flavor to the food,” Keri explained as the waiter shoved their drinks in front of them. She sipped the tea and frowned. “This doesn’t taste like tea,” she said. “Not that I’ve ever tasted tea the way the people here make it.”
Eirana took a sip of her Dars. No, it wasn’t entirely tea, but she wasn’t going to tell her that. She merely waited for it to take its effects. She wasn’t sure how it would work, but the worst that could happen would be that Keri would have an inexplicable hangover and be late for her morning duty shift.
“You know, Eirana,” Keri said, drinking more of her tea, “I don’t think we’ve heard the last of this plot. Yes, we’ve gotten rid of the assassin, but we still don’t know who’s behind it all. There’s more than one way of committing murder, some of which are much more subtle than setting an assassin out. No, I think the assassin was just a setup so that when it was caught it would lure you into a false sense of security.”
“What are you talking about, Keri?” Eirana frowned. Perhaps this wasn’t going to work. Although it seemed unlikely that it could work this fast, if this was the best it could do, she wouldn’t get anything out of her.
“What I’m saying,” Keri leaned forward in a whisper, “is that you need to be more wary. Take poison, for instance: if they slipped some girca into your drink, it would be a week before it killed you and they’d be able to make their escape long before anyone would believe you’re ill. Not mentioning the fact that there is no antidote. Or, if they couldn’t get their hands on any girca, they could just dump a bunch of kethona into your drink, it would be a swift, painless death, but you’d still be dead.”
“Wait a second,” Eirana wondered, “are you talking about the same kethona I’m thinking about? The one that healers use to deaden pain and keep them knocked out during surgery?”
“Yes,” said Keri grimly, “that’s the one. When healers use it, they always have to make sure they have exact proportions. If they use too little, they’ll wake up while their chest is sliced open; if they use too much-” she grew pale. “If they use too much-” It seemed as if she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Her face seemed frozen as if in the memory of a terrifying nightmare.
“Are you all right?” Lady Eirana asked gently.
Keri shook her head, as if trying to wake herself. She whispered quietly, “Sardith.”
“What?” Eirana said, confused. “What’s a Sardith?”
Keri took a long swallow of tea, obviously not aware of what was in it. She set the cup back down so absentmindedly it almost knocked over the small kettle of hot water. “Please, Lady,” she said with a look of complete sorrow on her face, “don’t ask me. It was mercy, I know, but it still pains me to speak of it.”
“To speak of what?”
Keri shook her head once more. “We were the last two, and we could have saved the tribe. He was so young, so young! But those soldiers, those soldiers...” She seemed to be staring into a world of her own. “My dear mayda... my brilliant parth... and my brother. My brother! If only I had talked to him more and steered him away from the path he was choosing. But he’s gone now, as is Sardith...” She drained her tea and poured herself some more from the kettle.
“I’ll tell you a story, my good Lady,” she said in a hollow tone, “about a girl from the Rashdan people. She belonged to a tribe which was known for brilliant displays that lit up the skies and filled the air with thunder. Some even went as far as to say that they had immense powers that allowed them to do this, but they all knew it was only a matter of elements and combinations. Much like what you study at the University, only this tribe was a bit more advanced at it, having been at it for a few centuries.
“This tribe lived in almost complete harmony with itself and with the rest of the tribes of the Rashdans, except for a few short squabbles due to jealousy scattered about the centuries, until this girl’s brother began to lobby against the High Court’s policies. He got himself followers from other tribes and even outside the Rashdan people, and they betrayed the tribe’s secrets by using them not to light up the sky with celebration, but with destruction. He attacked government buildings, using the secrets the tribe had spent so long keeping in use for the good.
“Despite all of this the tribe still loved him, especially his sister, and they put off disowning him until it was too late: the High Court’s soldiers came and arrested him. However,” Keri gulped hard as she swallowed another mouthful of tea, “they did not stop there. They came at midday, when Folona is at its quietest, and attacked the entire tribe in its tent. The girl, who had been out walking with her brother, didn’t get there in time to warn them.
“There was one survivor other than herself, though, and that was her cousin. He, too, had gotten there late and had actually seen the guards arrest the others. When he tried to explain that the tribe was not his band of followers, the soldiers laughed and force-fed him a poison.”
“Kethona?” Eirana asked.
“No,” Keri said, “girca. I’m getting there. He actually went all the way back to the tribe’s tent, where he told the girl what happened. She took him and they hid for a night, after which he told her to give him an overdose of kethona. She really didn’t want to, but she knew it was better than to let him suffer for another few days. He drank to the health of the tribe as he died.” Her voice trembled, and her hands began to shake. “He was only eight years old. A child. He was such an intelligent child, too!” She allowed her head to fall into her hands, and it stayed there for some time. Eirana was just beginning to wonder if she had fallen asleep when she spoke again.
“She returned to the town in the company of an old friend who helped her take her cousin’s body back. She thanked him for his kindness, and returned to her tribe’s tent to make sure the scrolls with the secrets of how to create the powder that lit up the sky weren’t stolen by another tribe or worse, the soldiers of the High Court. She arranged a meeting with the Rashdan Council to determine her future as the only remaining active member of her tribe.”
She stared at the wall behind Eirana with a bemused expression.
“Little did she know that the Council was too over manipulated by their leader to protest when he claimed that the girl was too much of a threat to be allowed to keep on. He wanted to dispose of her and her tribe’s secrets immediately, and he tried. If the girl hadn’t been warned by the same friend who helped her out earlier moments before they attacked, she would have died. As it was, it was a very close thing. She was injured in the side, but she still managed to disappear from Rashdan and High Court eyes ever since then.”
As Keri began to hum complacently, Eirana asked, “Was her brother, by any chance, the infamous Darim Erif Drathil?”
“Yes,” Keri replied, “and her name was Jada Erif Drathil.” She took her eyes off the wall and stared fixedly at Eirana. “My name is Jada Erif Drathil. I am not an outlaw, but I am being hunted down by two completely different law systems all the same, though now you mention it, I think the name change is worth a good beating or even a jail sentence.”
“You can’t be...” Eirana gasped.
“Yes I can,” Keri (or rather, Jada) said. She drew from around her neck a bronze pendant and held it out so Eirana could see. “That’s my name in Rashdan inscribed right there. And my tribe’s coat of arms, see there? With the lizard wreathed in fire?” She replaced it around her neck and tucked it under her shirt again. “If you don’t believe that, I still have the scar from where the head of the Council got me. It took a long time to heal, it did.” She smacked her lips, then looked up at Eirana with horror. “I know what’s wrong with this tea,” she said, “you’ve spiked it!”
With that, she slumped onto the floor and gave a loud snore.
“Right ho,” Eirana said grimly as she slung Jada over her shoulder to begin carrying her back to Jengda Quarters. “Sorry, but it was the only way. This way you won’t remember and it wasn’t painful, except for the hangover you’ll have tomorrow morning. Hope you’ll forgive me when you find out, as you most undoubtedly will, in a few years.”
She carefully creaked the door of Jada’s quarters open, not exactly sure what she would find. She was quite surprised to see a well-furnished room with four large silk cusions for chairs, a low table littered with instruments and notes, and another table of the same kind with a thick sleeping mat set onto it. The ingenuity of how each piece either broke down to be more portable or opened to serve as storage amazed her.
As she laid Jada down on the mat, a sheaf of papers on the table caught her eye, not because they were in Rashdan, but because they weren’t. They were in Common. She could tell they were in Jada’s own hand, for they had the same small, difficult-to read, crunched-up look of the translated scripture of Lr A’dl.
My name is Keri. I have blonde hair, green eyes, and an angular sort of nose. I do not know anything about the government. I am educated, but only enough to be able to do my bookkeeping for my business. I used to be a merchant, but I was attacked by Rashdan raiders on the Vokden Highway on my way to Clevia, so I need to earn some money to account for the loss which will cause me to be unable to pay my taxes within the next year. Don’t want to spend time in prison. Husband, Dirk, died of the fever a year after we were married, which was when I was fifteen. I still dream about him sometimes. The marriage was prearranged, but there was love nonetheless. He treated me well. When he died, I took over the business.
Eirana laughed. So Jada had written this not only to try and convince any snoop who came in that she was a normal, law-abiding citizen, but to keep on “character.” Method acting. Excellent job at it, too.
Next to the piece of paper on the table was a line of identical convincing-looking noses, a few blonde wigs styled in different ways, and some vials of a green liquid that had a pungent odor when she smelled it. When she let a drop of it fall onto the back of her hand, it slid off harmlessly. She wondered what it could be. Next to the bottle were a few pairs of false eyelashes and eyebrows. Even what looked like a set of lips.
Lady Eirana was seized with a sudden desire to see the face behind the intricate disguise. The real face, not Keri’s. Keri’s face was pleasant to see, but it wasn’t the real person. It was a mask. A very well-done mask, but a mask nonetheless.
She stepped towards the mat where Jada snored, wondering where to begin. She didn’t know anything about disguise makeup, and didn’t want to do something that would make Jada wake up and see her there, rifling about her personal business. She slowly reached for Jada’s nose.
Jada said, “No, you idiot!”
Eirana froze in terror.
“I don’t want to get married! I’m too young. I know that the rest of the world may do prearranged marriages as early as twelve, but do you think they are really happy? No! I want to wait until I’m wise enough to run a household before I can even think of getting a husband, so go away, Tartath, and never speak my name again!”
Lady Eirana sighed in relief. It amused her to imagine Jada even being in the position in which to say something like that, but then again, she realized that even Rashdans must have their own set of customs concerning courting. She would remember to ask Jada who Tartath was the next time she saw her.
“One more thing, Tartath,” she heard Jada shriek as she was half-through the door. “You are one of those idiots who believe that women are objects to buy and sell, maybe make babies with. We are not! You see my hands? I didn’t get these burns from a cooking fire; no, I make fire, fire so grand that your tiny brain can’t imagine it. I am not to be bartered for!”
“Preach it, sister,” Lady Eirana mumbled as she shut the door. “If there were people who could speak like that in their waking hours, we all might be a bit happier.”


Winter crept over the University with no pretense of subtlety. The jengdas had to work extra duty shifts clearing up the snow-covered paths, keeping the fires going at all hours, and repairing damage caused by the violent winds. The most any one could hope for would to be assigned to one of the ladies of the castle who were working on gowns for the festivities accompanying the Week of Yadin when the sun is at its darkest. A custom picked up from the Rashdans, it was always a fabulous excuse for excessive amounts of drinking, dancing, and wild revelry. Although the Rashdans abandoned the custom a century ago when Lr A’dl proclaimed through His prophet at the time that it was vile in its worship of the sun and in its way of celebration, the cultures that had picked it up still observed it every year with great fervor.
In the meantime, the Rashdans had come up with their own holiday. It was a much simpler sort of celebration, meant to be a reflection of the previous year. It had feasting and dancing as well, but in a more spiritual kind of way. Tribes that had been quarreling with each other were to set aside their differences for the week and look to the promise of the new year as one.
This new holiday was called the Time of Healing.
Throughout this week Jada was filled with a weakening feeling of despair. There was no more a torture for her than pulling the extra work load, receiving beatings for letting the bitter cold slow her work, and ultimately being cut off from her people at this Time of Healing. She was haunted by memories of the friends she’d had in Folona and the laughter they’d shared together. She could almost hear their voices raised in song and see their silhouettes in front of the bonfire.
The rest of the jengdas seemed to enjoy the festivities. It gave them a chance to gossip about which nobles would ask which noblewomen to the different ceremonies and feasts. They enjoyed the creativity of the tasks given them such as decorating the Hall, sewing costumes for the rites, and cooking the spectacular meals to be served at the feasts.
Jada did not eat. Gawen, the same small boy Lady Eirana had inquired of earlier, noticed this one morning and asked her, “What’s up, Keri? You look like I could blow you over with me own breath and it wouldn’t be too difficult. Why aren’t you eating?”
She smiled and laughed. “Don’t know; might be poisoned, eh?”
“Don’t insult my food,” Gawen said. “Me and the rest of the midget staff get to make our meals. Shows how willing the real kitchen staff is to teach us how to make real food.”
“I rest my case,” Jada joked. “Can I trust you?”
“Depends on what,” Gawen replied. “If it’s the food, eat ‘till your stomach gives out. If it’s secrets,” his eyes gleamed, “it depends on how much of a liking I take to you. You can guess how many secrets nobles get to keep in my company.” He chuckled, than added, “It gives me some extra pocket money.”
“Say,” Jada said, suddenly getting an idea, “how would you like to learn more of their secrets?”
“How?” he asked suspiciously.
Jada leaned forward and whispered, “I can teach you to read their writing. That way, if they have you deliver a message, you can read it and make some more pocket money.”
Gawen smiled slyly. “Sounds good. When can we begin?”
“Meet me on the edge of Oak Rock Forest after tonight’s feast is cleaned up. You won’t see me there, but I will show you which way to go.”
Gawen agreed to it and scurried to the forest the moment his duties were over with. He stood at the forest’s edge for a while, wondering if he was wise to set himself to this, but as he gazed into the trees, he saw a light, which he followed.