Sand Ch. 9: The New Council

“Now, the main concept of illusions is fairly basic--project an image from your imagination into reality without calling it into existence,” Sir Norbert explained to his advanced magic class. “Like so,” he grinned, his eyes flickering to where Sir Ziro and Lady Eirana were pretending to pay rapt attention to him, but he could hear the mental conversation they were having.
Are you going to the Red Dragon after class?
Of course. I can’t wait to meet Jada after all you’ve told me about her. And, of course, Lady Kessil is making me watch you like a hawk.
Seeing the trouble you caused at the Festival, maybe I should be watching you like a hawk.
I was watching you first.
What?
Well, you’re fun to watch. It’s the way your hair moves.
Their conversation was cut off as they were astonished by an apparition of Lady Eirana in front of the class, flinging her hair back in shiny black waves behind her.
“Now this,” Sir Norbert smiled indulgently at the two of them as they turned two shades of deep scarlet, “is why you don’t spill your life’s secrets via mental communication when a mage of my caliber is present. I will see both of you after class, and you know who I mean.”
After class, when the room had emptied of all students but the two of them, Sir Norbert approached them. “I am very disappointed in you,” he said gravely.
“Are you?” Sir Ziro asked defiantly. Lady Eirana glared at him.
“Your actions deserve punishment. Therefore,” he kept his gaze stern, “I am inviting you both to dinner.”
“Ha! We were coming already.” Sir Ziro matched his evil eye.
“Well, then, one option remains.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
Sir Norbert broke into a smile. “Go and visit my Rashdan performer Sarepta, and ask her how she feels about her new act. Don’t forget to duck. I’m sure she can fill you in on whatever you missed during class about illusions.”
All three of them burst out laughing, and Ziro and Eirana quickly hurried down to the lake--the walk was still substantial, but they hurried through it and it seemed much shorter because they enjoyed each other’s company. Finally, they reached Jada’s cabin, and gingerly knocked, snickering as they heard the shifting inside.
“Hello,” a lady with dark, dark brown hair that was almost black answered the door. Her eyes were a soft almond color.
“We’re here to see Sarepta Astul Lethya.”
“One and the same,” the lady let them in, shut the door, and locked it behind her with an evil grin on her face.
“Great disguise, Jada,” Eirana complimented her. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“Thank you,” Jada replied curtly as they sat down on the cushions inside her room. From across the hallway, they could hear Stefus moving about in his room. “He just woke up,” she explained. “We’re going to work soon.”
“Late risers, eh?”
“Do you really think that I could throw all of this together in fifteen minutes?” Jada growled at him. “I’ve been up for several hours. I made Stefus sleep because he’s been up all night doing Lr A’dl-knows-what. Wait a second,” Jada studied Sir Ziro’s features carefully. “You’re the one, the spineless one from the party I saved.”
“That’s right,” Sir Ziro said slowly. “Thank you, by the way. Lady Judith’s had it in for me for years, and she happened to catch me in a moment of--er--weakness.”
“As in inebriated,” Jada said crisply. She looked from Ziro to Eirana, then from Eirana back to Ziro, and light seemed to dawn for her. “Is he--?” she asked Eirana.
“Stuck with the same job as Stefus?”
Jada nodded.
“Yes,” Eirana smiled. “He was quite happy to take on the task.”
“You turn my hair white before my time,” Jada exclaimed. “Keep your eye on him, and keep the bottle far from him.”
“Hey! Eirana told me you thought it was rude to talk about people in the third person while they are present.”
“You think you don’t turn mine white before my time?” Eirana rolled her eyes. “Just look at the circumstances that brought us here.”
Jada bit her lip. There was no arguing with that. “I-I’m just concerned for you,” she said finally. “You’re probably the closest friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to lose you. We are sisters, you see.”
“I agree.”
“Now,” Jada quirked an eyebrow. “Whose brilliant idea was it to make this my new disguise?”
“It was a collaborative effort,” Eirana replied innocently enough as Ziro dissolved into snickers. “It’s just that I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, and there’s always these awkward pauses which causes me to wonder if there is something there.”
Stefus’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect as Jada, tongue-tied, stared at Eirana, not believing what she was hearing. He strode into the room, completely oblivious to the previous conversation. “Ah! Why didn’t you tell me we had company?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you as you were getting ready,” she replied, smiling. “You look nice tonight--the rest served you well.”
Despite her theories about the two Rashdans, Eirana had to admit Jada had a point there. He looked refreshed and relaxed, possessing an energy he had lacked in the last few weeks. He had tamed his black hair into something resembling a style for a change, and he wore traditional Rashdan garb instead of the rough brown jengda tunic he usually donned. The falcon had taken its place on his shoulder, and it glared at Eirana with a steely gaze.
“Why so dressy?” Ziro queried, smirking.
“A performer must dress well out of respect for their audience,” Stefus said lightly. “I have a very important performance tonight.” His tone grew serious. “Jada, I think you should know that Tartath is staying at the Red Dragon. I’ve been trying my best to avoid him, but he won’t leave me alone. He has gotten too curious about my personal life, about you--” he blushed.
“It’s all right,” Jada said gently. “He won’t even recognize me like this.”
“He’ll know your voice.”
“Not with this accent.”
For the first time, Eirana realized that there was not even a hint of Rashdan inflection left in Jada’s speech. When Stefus spoke common, it was usually well-accented with Rashdan; if there was an accent in Jada’s speech, it was Cunadran, the language of the icy land north of the Edarth Isles.
“Shall we go?” Ziro asked.
The others agreed, and within moments they were inside the Red Dragon, joining the crowd of laughing, talking students and travelers. Tartath was sitting, once again, at a table with Sir Norbert, who was continuously massaging his temples. The moment he saw Stefus, he cried, “Come join us!”
The four of them sat down with the two bachelors.
“You still have that bloody bird?” Tartath asked, eyeing the falcon. “I didn’t know they lived this long. Still use it for combat?”
“With proper care, a falcon can live a very long time. I’m afraid she hasn’t had combat practice in a long time.”
“Now who is this, Stefus?” Tartath winked, looking at Jada. “Don’t tell me you lied to me.”
“Of course I did,” Stefus said lightly. “This is the woman. I didn’t tell you about her because I knew you would tease me mercilessly.”
“Are you ashamed of me, Stefus?” she challenged him with a glint in her eye.
“Of course not,” Stefus smiled politely. “I don’t think I’ve introduced you. This is Tartath, that old school friend of mine I was telling you about.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Jada lied.
“And you are…?”
“Sarepta Astul Lethya.”
Tartath choked on his ice. “You got married, Stefus?”
“Well, did you expect me to stay a bachelor forever?” Stefus was indignant. “Just because I don’t play the ladies--”
“Yeah, but how did you rate her?” Tartath turned to Jada, mouth open. “How on D’nal did he ever manage to convince you to marry him?”
She was a master at this game. Method acting. “He would visit me while I was working in the library at Clevia,” she smiled, as if in the middle of a happy memory while her mind was swiftly calculating the right details to use for this situation to make it believable. “He actually stopped to talk whenever he checked a book out from the library. He, Wylth and I would spend hours just talking about theology, books, and all sorts of things. I fell in love with his sense of humor and his practical take on the ancient books. We wrote letters back and forth, and it all progressed from there.”
“That is so like you,” Tartath laughed. “Don’t take this wrong, Sarepta, but I don’t think your husband would have managed to get a wife any other way.”
“Maybe that says something about his methods,” Jada laughed. “I found him perfectly charming.”
“Charming?” Tartath chuckled. “All right, Stefus; you have changed. Will you forgive me for what I said about you and Jada?”
Jada frowned. “Is that the friend you were telling me about?” she asked Stefus.
“Yes,” he answered quickly, having a hard time catching onto the thread of deception.
“What was he saying about her?” She fixed him with the piercing stare of a jealous wife while inside she was bursting with curiosity.
“Oh, just that she broke up with me because she was attracted to him. She was an old girlfriend of mine,” he added. “I also somewhat accused him of taking her from me.”
Sir Norbert suddenly dipped his fingers into his ice water and started rubbing the cool liquid on his forehead in agony. Noting his behavior, Jada asked Stefus, “Is this true?”
“Absolutely not,” Stefus said quickly. “Well, I don’t know about her.” His next words sounded extremely unnatural for him. “You mean more to me than she ever could have.”
Sir Norbert finally moaned, “Tartath, do you mind if I speak with my friends in a private parlor? We are planning the entertainment for the next month, and we want it to be a surprise.”
“Of course.”
The five of them swiftly made their way to a private parlor. Lady Kessil and Gawen were waiting inside, having come in from a back door. After greeting them, Sir Norbert burst out, “Could you just hold onto your emotions for five minutes? You give me a headache.”
“Do I need you to start taking sedatives during the day, too?” Lady Kessil asked, concerned.
“No,” he growled. “I need to live somewhere far away from everyone else. Or better yet, somewhere where I am the only sober one in the lot.”
“No wonder you like being with Tartath,” Jada mumbled.
“Gawen,” Stefus said, “is everything in order for tonight?”
“Everyone is eager for information, so they are all coming. Not just the school of freedom, but the school of letters, too.”
“You’re so serious, Gawen,” Sir Ziro joked. “Lighten up a little.”
“They think it’s a funeral we’re having,” Gawen informed them. “I figured I might as well get into character.”
“I have a crazy plan for tonight,” Jada announced.
There was a deep intake of breath around the room.
“No offense, Jada, but how crazy?” Sir Ziro asked.
“Does it involve yet more work for me?” Lady Kessil chimed in.
“Kessil, I’m afraid it does,” Jada smiled mischievously.
Kessil grew angry. “What suicidal idea have you dreamed up this time?”
“Do you want me to write to my mother?” Stefus growled. “Better yet, in that disguise, how would you like to go see her and tell her what crazy thing you’re doing now?”
“Actually, I’d quite enjoy that, seeing as I haven’t left this depressing hellhole of a town for four years, and you know how much I love to travel,” she replied curtly. “My plan does not actually involve bodily harm, if all goes well, and I’m actually asking for help, something you’ve been trying to get me to do for lo these many years.”
“Well, what do you want us to do?”
“I want all of you nobles to join the Council.”
There was a dead silence, then Jada continued. “Only, of course, if the existing Council votes you into their ranks. The thing is, my people made a mistake when, after freeing ourselves from Tre-revaj rule, we learned to hate all people from Tre-revaj.”
“Don’t we all?” Sir Ziro arched his brow.
“My point,” Jada sighed, “is that many of them have come to hate nobles as a group. The problem is that not all nobles are the same. I want them to learn this. Am I asking too much?” She looked up at them. “You do not have to do this if you do not wish to do so. You have a week to think about it. I hate to ask, because I know that if you join, you will likely end up like me.”
“You’re not doing badly right now,” Lady Kessil made an attempt at comfort. “The world believes that you are dead, and now you are free.”
“Am I really?” Her voice was hollow. “Certainly, I am, if you believe that wearing a mask until the mask is your skin is freedom. Surely I am if you believe that I can just leave these people here. No, duty chains me to them, as it does Stefus to me. I tell you, Stefus, I would not think the lesser of you if you broke that chain now while you still can. I only know that I cannot break mine, not until I am dead or successful. I am free to leave, but I cannot. I am still a jengda.” She forced herself to smile. “I take this happily, though. I know it is my destiny.”

Alaviel was filled with apprehension as she made her way towards the woods. In addition to her work in the castle, some very disturbing reports had been coming to her from her advisors about the state of affairs in her own country. It had become widely known to them that Jada had fallen in the fight at the Festival, and there had been demonstrations both for and against jengda rights as a result. Also, the rumors about her being the one predicted in Yonba’s prophecy were spreading like wildfire, causing her impersonator at court great distress.
Also, in a way, she felt somewhat responsible for the young Rashdan’s fate. She had thought that in Jada, perhaps, she had found someone who actually understood the rigors of keeping up disguises and balancing political matters. If only she had silenced Lady Judith when she’d had the chance. . .but that would have turned out worse.
She was filled with curiosity as she saw the familiar faint light of the scarsh fire shine through the trees. She, like Sir Norbert, had keen senses, passed down to her through her royal bloodline. Whoever was holding the scarsh fire was doing a fine job of keeping their emotions steady.
There was already a sizable group there when she arrived at the source of the scarsh fire. Stefus was already there, along with that annoying little boy of Jada’s who kept on going about what an important part he played in the Council since Jada had fallen. Stefus had with him a newcomer, who Alaviel knew would easily fool everyone except her--there was no mistaking this woman’s thought processes. No one else could be so good at fluctuating between two personas.
As she sat down on the one rough blanket she had purchased from a beggar for the purpose of these meetings, she noted Terpsichore emerging into the clearing and accosting Stefus with questions. He tersely told her to sit down as the woman behind him did her best to stifle a chuckle.
“Good evening,” Stefus finally said as it seemed that everyone was there, and he proceeded to take roll. They had just started this process recently under Jada’s insistence that they have some idea of where people were. They had grown to the point where it was necessary so that no one was forgotten. Tonight, everyone was here except for Jada, whose name he skipped.
“What has happened to Jada?” someone asked when he had finished.
“Yeah, what happened to Keri?”
“Keri is dead,” Stefus said somberly. “She was buried just yesterday if you’d like to see her grave. The High Court examined the body and closed the Erif Drathil case.”
Alaviel frowned. Did he really think they were going to buy this?
“What are we going to do for a leader, then?”
Stefus smiled as he clasped the hand of the woman next to him. This action seemed very mechanical, almost unnatural for both of them. “I would like you to meet my wife, Sarepta Astul Lethya. She would be willing to lead you.”
There was a moment of shock before everyone erupted into whispers. Alaviel rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t even have had to be telepathic to catch that one.
“I thought that we appointed our leaders!” Terpsichore bellowed.
“That is true,” Stefus grinned. “That is why I am putting it to a vote. She is my nomination. Anyone else may place nominations, and all the nominees will make a speech. We will see, then, if I was correct in assuming that you would want my wife as your leader.”
Alaviel almost laughed as she saw all the furtive looks everyone shot at Stefus as they named nominees for the leadership position. Gawen, Terpsichore, Stefus, and even Alaviel herself were named. Gawen refused to give a speech, as did Terpsichore and Stefus.
That left Alaviel. She did not like making speeches, but the amusing nature of the situation warranted one. “All I will say,” she said curtly as she rose, “is that if you elected me, you would definitely be getting more than you bargained for.”
“Very well, “ Stefus responded with a raised eyebrow. “Now, Sarepta--your speech?”
“Sarepta” smiled, laughed, and stepped forward. A discerning eye would be able to note a slight weakness in her movements.
“I understand,” she began calmly, “that you mourn your friend Keri. It is very important that you remember exactly how you feel right now so that her memory will not be forgotten. Before I met Stefus, I was a student of Jada’s teacher Wylth. I have learned all the same principles of justice and democracy that Jada did. I wish to continue her legacy.” All of a sudden, she flashed them all a smile. “Now, how many of you did not believe a word I just said?”
Alaviel, Gawen, Stefus, and one or two others swiftly rose their hands.
“Gawen and Stefus, of course, should know. Alaviel,” there was some surprise by the others that this woman actually knew Alaviel’s name “tell me why you do not believe a word I just said.”
“Do you want the real answer or the funny one?” Sarepta’s eyes connected with hers, and they were easily playing off of each other. This was fun.
“Whichever you chose,” Sarepta replied.
“Stefus would never get a girl like you.”
“Why does everyone say that?” Stefus kicked at the dirt in frustration and only succeeded in stubbing his toe. “Am I really that bad?”
“Not really,” Sarepta smiled. “You’ve made significant improvements.”
“In all seriousness,” Alaviel continued as Stefus looked annoyed, “you have not used your left arm all evening and you and Stefus do not seem comfortable, ah--”
“I know what you mean,” Sarepta cut her off. “That is because we are not, in fact, married in any sense of the word, and I have not used my left arm all evening because it is still healing from a rather unpleasant fight with Lady Judith about a week ago.”
She paused to let the effects of her words sink in. It was shy, shy Navira who gingerly got up, walked over to Sarepta and carefully ran her fingers across her face. “Five scars. You can hardly feel them through all the makeup, but they‘re there,” she barely whispered, and embraced Sarepta in a gentle hug. “I knew you were alive.”
“Just barely,” Jada sighed, for it was, in fact, her. “The grave is empty. I am no longer pursued by the High Court. This is a disguise, like the last one. I can pull it away if you’d like, but I am so tired, you see. I am lucky to be alive at all. I am only here today because a noblewoman saved me.”
Alaviel could see where this was heading. The others sat alongside her, hardly daring to believe that what they heard was true.
“I could leave, I guess,” Jada mused. “I could disappear, and never be seen again. If you need me, however, I will stay. Just know that I will do whatever it takes to help you, and now you see that it is no empty promise.”
Exhausted, she slowly sat down. Stefus looked at her in admiration and nearly choked as he asked them for their votes. It was unanimous: Jada was, once more, their leader.
As the meeting progressed and they voted in several nobles to their ranks, Alaviel felt a pang of guilt. Jada had been completely forthright with her disguise and had more or less revealed all. She continued to hide in secrecy. Then again, Jada had no one but herself to worry about; Alaviel had an entire country.
When they had adjourned, she waited behind until everyone but Stefus, Jada, and Gawen had left. They seemed to take an extra-long amount of time tonight, as Jada was completely exhausted and taking some time to gather up the strength required for the walk back to their cabin. Stefus and Gawen seemed quite happy to stay, and Alaviel knew why. Gawen would have to return to Jengda Quarters, and Stefus and Jada would have to face the awkward situation of living together. Jada was extending Gawen an invitation to live with them.
“We would love to have you with us,” she said soothingly. “It’s probably much more comfortable than Jengda Quarters.”
“It would look suspicious,” Gawen replied. “Besides, you hear the best gossip up in Jengda Quarters. You need someone with an ear in the castle; just because you have moved out to the lake doesn’t mean everyone else has.”
“Excuse me,” Alaviel gently interrupted.
Jada immediately dropped to one knee; the other two followed suit.
“You do not have to do that,” Alaviel smiled as she bent down and sat on the ground beside them. “Out here, just as you are Stefus’s wife, I am but a jengda.”
“I cannot show you deference in public,” Jada intoned, “but at least I can pay you proper respect here, Your Majesty. For the record, you’re probably the only monarch who would receive this treatment from me.”
“So all three of you know who I am?”
“You know we do.”
Alaviel sighed. “Do you think I should tell them?”
“Not now,” Jada replied. “They would not understand. They would consider you a spy.”
“That’s what I thought.”
The four of them just stared at each other in silence for a moment.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for saving my life again,” Jada said gratefully. “I did not deserve it.”
“Do not refer to me as Your Majesty ever again,” Alaviel smiled. “Thank you for supporting me. I feel so alone sometimes--it’s nice to know that someone else knows. Other than Sir Alfonso, of course. He just doesn’t understand what it’s like, though. . .”
“I know,” Jada said sympathetically. “Say, why don’t you help us? I know you have your own advisors to meet with, but it’s about time we didn’t have to spy on each other to know what’s going on.”
“I would love to,” Alaviel agreed, surprised for a change--this had been the very reason why she had waited behind. Then she frowned. “Have you really been spying on mine? It’s really not appropriate for even you to know all of the business of the government of Manicalus.”
“Not intentionally,” Gawen admitted. “I just happened to be looking for you on the night of the fight and overheard your advisors reprimanding you. We know it’s none of our business.”
“The night I overheard you, it was also by accident,” Jada added. “It’s not even by carelessness that you are overheard, but by the extreme unlikelihood that anyone in their right mind would be climbing the castle walls.”
“And you must know that Sir Norbert’s mind is so sensitive that he can pick up on any significantly strong emotion,” Stefus informed her.
“Actually,” Alaviel smiled, “he was my original contact here. I knew when I came that I could never hide from him, as I have the same problem. He hates it here so much that he’ll do anything to get back at the bureaucratic idiots who put him here. He has the curse of being powerful without a job that calls for it, like mine. Have you ever wondered where his estate really is?”
“Well, I assumed--”
“It’s Clevia. He owns the temple city of Clevia, which is also a key trade port. You can see now why the High Court would be so eager to banish him here to Delixia. They repossessed his estate, and now he lives here.”
“So that’s why he’s so bitter!” Gawen exclaimed. “I would be, too.”
“It was vital that I had his support before I came here, because he would easily sense my presence. I got more than his support; I got his services as a spy.”
“So that’s why you were in the pub while I was talking with Tartath,” Stefus recalled. “I couldn’t think of why you would be there.”
“Ah, was that Tartath?”
“I apologize for any inappropriate comments he may have made to you, your Majesty. He thinks he’s Lr A’dl’s gift to women.”
“It’s not your fault,” Alaviel smiled. “I’ve heard worse. Just curious, Jada--what did you ever see in him?”
Jada frowned. “Can’t you read it out of me?”
“If I really wanted to, I could, but my interest for the present moment is purely academic.” An amused smile played upon her lips.
Jada was at a loss for what to say, and found her forehead getting warm as Gawen and Stefus eyed her with curiosity, also. “He had a way with words,” she said finally. “I helped him out of a tough spot involving a Layor Niol woman, and we hit it off from there.”
Alaviel laughed. “A way with words--that’s definitely the truth! Well, I’d better get going.”
“Don’t keep your advisors waiting,” Gawen chuckled.
Alaviel turned towards the castle and slowly disappeared into the trees.
“A way with words, eh?” Stefus grinned. “You seem to have a thing for that.”
Jada felt like she was going to die from embarrassment. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, Gawen has some pretty strange tastes in women.”
“Hey! That’s not fair.”
“I mean, do you think that it’s romantic to stare up a woman’s collarbone or something?”
“I can’t help it if I’m shorter than everyone else,” Gawen stuttered. “And you’re one to talk. He‘s what, a head taller than you?”
“What?” Jada exclaimed. “I told you, I have no interest in him, he’s just nice to look at!”
“What’s all this about?” Stefus asked, amused. “You never use prepositions at the end of a sentence, normally.”
“Nothing,” they both said quickly.
“You are dense, aren’t you?” Gawen laughed. “Unless, of course, you play the fool.”
“Oh, you’re a fine one to insult his intelligence, seeing as you didn’t even know that the lady in Sir Norbert’s room was a puppet until you tried to flirt with it.”
“Well,” Gawen said tartly, “I’d better be off to the urchin quarters. You hear the best stuff in the morning, and I want to be awake to hear it.”
“Coward!” she called at his retreating back, then giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Stefus asked as he helped her up.
“I think he’s finally hit puberty,” she laughed. “My little urchin is growing up.”
“You have, too.”
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, indignant.
“Just that you’re somewhat different than you were when you left Folona.”
“Well, you are, too.” She smiled. “You, however, have passed the rather awkward stage Gawen is experiencing. He is starting to notice women, but he has not learned how to deal with his attraction for them.”
“Ah, I remember that stage well,” Stefus chuckled. “I did some stupid things.”
“The puppet incident in question is but a sampling of Gawen’s new adventures.” She creased her brow thoughtfully. “It does lead me to wonder, however, why on D’nal Sir Norbert has such a realistic puppet of a woman in his room in the first place.”
“I still can’t believe you adopted Gawen,” he mused as she threw her cloak over her shoulders and they started to walk back. “He’s not that much younger than you.”
“The age gap was more pronounced when we were younger, and I needed to pass the craft to someone. The future didn’t look very promising then.”
“How about now?”
“It’s-- it’s hard to tell,” she answered thoughtfully. “On one hand, I can see a future in this disguise, living out my days--” she quickly cut off the sentence, as though there was something left, then continued before he could comment. “On the other hand, I see my plan unfolding and maybe making a difference worth those days it would cost me.” She shuddered. “It’s so tempting, so very tempting, to take the first.”
He looked at her intently. “Will you tell me what your plan is? Maybe there‘s a way for both to work, and you‘re probably going to need my help either way.”
“So true,” she smiled, and noted that they were now emerging from the woods. The stars were reflected in the lake, which glistened in the moonlight. “I hate to admit it, but I do need your help.”
“How ironic.”
Noting the nightlife, roaming the streets, Jada changed the subject. “In all the time I’ve seen you with that falcon, you never told me her name.”
He laughed. “I named her Shalisda, because of how fierce she is. I suppose you like that name, don’t you?”
“I find it interesting that you would name a bird after the woman who gave us the right to be counted as people.”
“I’m not Tartath, you know,” Stefus replied. “I believe lots of the problems we see today could be solved if men would listen to women. My parth taught me that.”
“Thanks for listening to me.”
“Believe me, I’ve probably gotten more out of it than you have.” He waited until the cabin door was safely shut behind him. As Shalisda fluttered to her perch, he said, “Now tell me about your plan.”
She motioned him to come to her room and pull up a cushion as she set the scarsh fire down on her table. She set out a script titled The Immortals, some drawings, and some notes.
“You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?” He perused the script. “So that’s why you wanted to teach me how to fly--that is your intent, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “As you see in the script, you don’t need to be able to do it particularly well, you just need to be able to do it while singing.”
“I’m not the greatest singer.”
“As you see by the script, you don’t need to be particularly good at that, either; you just need to be heard well enough to be understood.”
“It’s a good play.” He continued to rifle through the pages. “How am I supposed to survive that scene, by the way? You’ve got me next to live dishas.”
“I will protect you,” she answered, then blushed. “Only if you are comfortable with that, of course,” she quickly added.
“No, it’s fine,” he replied. “Are you sure you have the skills to do so? I remember all the burns you used to get on your hands just from launching them.”
“I could not protect myself then because I was still learning the craft and did not know the effects they had on the body.“ She held out her hands for him to see. There were still reddish patches of damaged skin. “I now know the full effects of the dishas and, consequently, how to deal with them.”
“Well, that’s some role reversal for you,” he remarked. “You know, this is enough to give the entire cast a life-long sentence in Jegundo at best, execution at worst. At the very least, it will be banned, Sir Norbert will be stripped of his powers, and I will be put in prison. You-- if you never revealed your true identity and they were thick enough not to see it, you would be able to live, though probably not pleasantly.”
“Not if I follow the rest of the plan--the unscripted plan.” Her face was pallid now. “That part isn’t in writing anywhere, but it could probably be guessed by my set designs.”
He scanned the drawings of the sets. “These are amazing. You intend to craft the glass yourself?” She nodded. “So, if this is in the main Hall, then in this last scene, all the entrances and exits are blocked except for this one stage door, which will have a disha under the threshold.” He looked gravely at her. “I thought you didn’t approve of your brother’s tactics.”
“Done right, no one will be hurt,” she explained. “One just needs a distraction sufficient to give the cast members time to escape before setting it off. Theoretically, it only takes one person to do that.”
“One person. . .” he trailed off, then looked up at her. “You.”
“Exactly,” she sighed. “Of course, it endangers a good deal of other people, but if they go into the Rashdan tunnel system and retreat to Folona, they will never be found by the Jegundo guards. Of course, they will be fugitives for the rest of their lives, but I bet that Alaviel would be willing to let them live secretly in Manicolus, which wouldn’t be too bad. Failing that, there’s always Renni.”
Renni was the ancient refuge of all nations, the city buried deep in the ground below the Rashdan desert, heated by the light of the inner core of the planet of D’nal. It was from Renni that the first people broke the surface and saw the light of the sun, spreading out on the face of the planet to form their various civilizations. The Rashdans had stayed at this site while the others left the desert, and Folona was built upon the ruins of the old city of Renni. In Renni was the ancient race with whom only the Rashdans maintained contact. It was the people of this ancient race who made the Rashdan pendants, who kept the vast libraries whose shelves contained not books, but the ashes of centuries of people, whose deep wisdom and penetrating thought had caused reverence from the Rashdans and fear from the other races of men.
“Renni?” He arched an eyebrow. “This all depends on going through Folona. What about the Riya Dru? I’m sure they won’t take kindly to a group of refugees coming through.”
“Renni can be reached a variety of ways, and technically, if you never break the sand, you’re not in Folona.”
“Still. . .” he paused. “The use of the tunnel system alone could be the cause for disownment.”
“In my case,” Jada said sarcastically, “it doesn’t matter. As for you, your mother’s position on the Council is enough to protect you. However,” she softened, “I understand that this plan relies heavily on you. I am willing to scrap it and wait until Gawen is old enough to fill the role if I must. He and I have nothing to lose. You are still a part of a family, and even Tartath seems to continue to hold some respect for you. I cannot ask you to do this--” she broke down as a single tear cut a glimmering path down her cheek.
He was stunned. “Jada--” he stopped to collect his thoughts, then began again. She so rarely cried, it was an off-putting sight to him. “I made an oath to Lr A’dl to protect you, and if this is what it means, I will do it.” He breathed heavily. “All things considered, you’ve given me a fairly safe road. Even so, I am not sure if I can take it. Jada, what about staying in this disguise? You could continue to teach the class in the woods and perhaps, in time, Terpsichore could carry out your plan or Alaviel will reveal herself, which would shake things up a bit.”
She shuddered. “It’s so tempting, so very tempting, especially when you give me that rare joy of hearing my real name, not Sarepta or Keri. Unfortunately, Alaviel has too many political interests to protect. Her position is very uncertain. When it comes to Terpsichore, I just cannot do it. I cannot let someone else do something that is my responsibility.”
“Why is it your responsibility?”
“Natas, eva ne!” she cried. “Have I not told you what I have seen, what I have heard with my own ears? I was doomed to it long ago, the moment I retreated to the tunnels with my cousin. Were I wise then, I would have poured my strength into him to give him more years. I did not, and I am paying for it.”
Stefus frowned. “He was not nearly as skilled as you in the art of disguise. He would not have survived afterward, and none of the change you have done here would have happened.”
“Even so,” Jada said, “I cannot sit back and let anyone else take this. After all, it’s me Jegundo has wanted all this time; they will feel quite gratified to capture me. My case will nicely distract them from pursuing everyone else. You can’t find a more perfect distraction.”
“Perfect?” Stefus exclaimed. “I don’t want--” he broke off the sentence quickly. “I mean, you’re the last of your tribe. You have a duty to keep the craft alive.”
“This is more important,” she said dryly. “The craft of the Erif Drathil is nothing that my notes cannot explain with some help from Gawen. The craft is a cold, lifeless thing, and there’s nothing about the Erif Drathil name worth keeping. These people are living, breathing souls under Lr A’dl and deserve better. I’m sure you and Gawen can carry on the craft, maybe even absorb it into the Astul Lethya craft.”
He was speechless. They stared at each other for a moment, the silence ringing loudly in their ears. “Very well,” he said finally, with some difficulty. “In the name of Lr A’dl, it must be so.”
“Thank you, Stefus,” she replied gratefully as he reached over and wiped the silvery tear from her cheek. Then, she collected herself once more. “You know what this means?”
“What?”
“We have work to do, and lots of it.” Her lips twisted slowly into a wry, insane smile. “Sir Norbert’s going to get his money’s worth out of us.”