Arlee followed at a distance. Though we hadn’t asked for one, Judah began a sort of travelogue about the palace, explaining how the Sworn Assets were housed in the oldest part of the palace and that the views from their windows would be exemplary. I had no doubt of that. From what I had seen so far, every bit of this palace was engineered to delight its occupants. I imagined architects and interior designers moving all about the rooms and courtyards to make certain there were no ordinary vantage points.
Judah kept up a steady stream of friendly and charming chatter, as if there had never been any unpleasantness, but I couldn’t help but notice how all the highborn people we passed put their fists together fingers down in front of their chests and bowed their heads. Judah swept past them without notice. The servants we encountered stepped into rooms or behind pillars as if the very sight of us was harmful. Apparently word of the scene with the Mechanics had gotten out because no one came too close to us.
“All the people we meet seem to be fist bumping themselves,” Sean said.
Judah turned back to exchange a glance with Arlee. She averted her eyes.
“The citizens make that gesture to ward off—to protect themselves—from missusans and Sworn Enemies. It’s probably a foolish action now since His and Her Majesty have given you permission to be here.” He cleared his throat. “I could send footmen ahead to clear the passages so your eyes won’t be troubled by seeing them.”
“So that fist bumping action is a sort of an insult?” I said.
“It’s a custom, my lady. It’s always done at court and at the Hub when encountering a Sworn Enemy. The Picards do it to us and we do it in return. Of course it’s never been seen before within these walls.”
“Well, then, that makes all the difference in the world,” Sean said.
Judah stopped at the bottom of a huge sweeping staircase and turned to Sean and me. “Your apartments are up these stairs.” He gestured toward a line of people. “Your maids and footmen await your orders.” He turned to the staff and gestured for them to come forward. They were as frightened of Sean and me as if we were the most terrible of demons. Their fear didn’t seem to merit Judah’s notice.
“Are these the people you called Discarded?” I hadn’t forgotten the ones I had seen on the battlefield in the neutral zone and the scorn in the soldiers’ voices when they spoke of them.
Judah nodded. “They are, my lady.”
“Please explain to me what it means to be Discarded.”
“Of course, my lady. Any highborn person who acts in a way that is disruptive to our society and happiness or is unable to achieve the standards of a highborn is Discarded. He or she leaves behind the highborn status. In that way Discards are freed from continuing down their destructive path and can become productive citizens by serving.” Judah gestured toward the staircase. “If you please.”
I didn’t move. “Can you explain why in the neutral zone there were Discarded people being rounded up like animals?”
“They were ones who didn’t appreciate their options, my lady. Those Discards might have gone into service or met the lava of the Earth. Instead they chose to run away and live in the neutral zone like animals in the forest.”
“What does it mean to meet the lava? Jumping into a volcano?” Sean asked.
“Strictly speaking, volcanoes are on the surface of the Earth, my lord,” Judah explained earnestly. “But the Mechanics have a place with open lava. Those Discards who decide to join the lava are afforded the opportunity by the Mechanics.”
“How about that? A bath in molten rock or a lifetime of servitude?” Sean said. “How would anyone be able to decide?”
“Are you saying that all these maids and footmen are Discarded highborn men and women?” I asked as I pointed to the line of servants. “Were they all once like you or Arlee?”
“Not like us, of course, or they wouldn’t have been Discarded, my lady,” Judah said with some heat. He turned to the maid who stood at the end of the line of servants. His voice developed an edge. “Come here.”
The maid on the end stepped forward. Like Judah, she had red hair that was ornately braided. Though her tunic and trousers were adorned with lavish stitching, she wore no jewelry. As she approached, she kept her eyes downcast and her hands folded in front of her, as if she were trying to make herself small. She was the picture of obedience and submission.
“That one was the daughter of my mother’s sister.” Judah paused and narrowed his eyes in disgust. “Let it be known that I acknowledge her former status now only because your lordship and ladyship were never instructed in our ways. In Geminay we are merciful. Here the Discarded are assigned to serve in homes though never those of their families. Their families suffer enough without having the shame of their fallen relative in their midst.” His voice became clipped when he spoke directly to the little maid. “Tell the Lady Darcy how you came to be a maid in her household.”
The maid flushed a deeper shade of blue as she took a few steps forward. “My lady, this one was Discarded because her thoughts strayed beyond the boundaries of approved thinking. For the sake of Geminay and the House of Beck, this one’s role is marginalized to one she can perform satisfactorily. And this is how we show mercy to those whose thinking is subversive.”
“And who gets to decide whether their thinking is subversive?” Sean asked.
“A panel of lords and ladies is convened, my lord, because being Discarded is a serious matter,” Judah replied. “The panel is chosen from those whose familiarity with our doctrine is the most thorough. The panel discusses a person’s transgressions and deficiencies and determines whether he or she is able to live up to highborn standards. Then the panel issues a judgment. Sometimes the person is chastised and given a warning. That’s rare. Most frequently, the person is given the option of being Discarded or meeting the lava.”
“And there is no chance to appeal?” Sean asked.
“What is there to appeal, my lord?” Judah asked, puzzled. “The person was unable to live within the boundaries of the House of Beck or was found deficient in maintaining the high standards of the highborn. Many choose to be Discarded and are then given the Approvals. It all works well in the end. Because the maids and footmen are fallen highborn, they know our ways. We are comfortable with them in our homes and living among us. We are merciful.”
“Has a Sworn Asset ever been Discarded?” Sean asked.
Judah hesitated. “A Sworn Asset wouldn’t make a suitable Discard, my lord. They’ve spent too much time around the boorish human louts and have no understanding of our ways.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh at this irony or tell Judah off. Sean and I exchanged a glance. He shrugged. I pushed my senses toward the Discard, feeling her fear and shame. I wondered if she might run, but she held her ground under Judah’s poker-sharp gaze. Having Judah seeing her this way obviously tore at her soul.
“Do all the highborn families have Discards?” I asked.
“As servants, my lady, of course. But if you’re asking whether my family ever had a member be declared fallen, this Discard is the first in my family in fifty generations, my lady,” Judah said with some disgust.
Each of his words hit the little maid like a thrown rock. I wanted to chastise Judah for being so harsh, but something told me that it would only make it worse for the maid and I would be wasting my breath. When I looked up the staircase, I noticed that Sean’s and my quarters were in a separate building that didn’t connect in any way to any part of the palace. Though it was constructed of the same stone and adorned with similar windows and doors, it didn’t share a wall with the palace. Even the tiles of the courtyard were a different design, a line of triangles with circles in the middle. Judah and Arlee had stopped at the line.
“I will leave you now, my lord and lady, in the care of your maids and footmen,” he said. “Be assured that they have the training necessary to serve you well.”
“You’re not coming up?” I asked.
“Not until we’re wed, my lady. My lord.” He and Arlee bowed slightly to Sean and me, took a few steps backward, and left us.
Sean watched them walk away. “You know that they think we’re foul and dirty. They don’t want to touch us.”
I had figured that out when our quarters didn’t share a common wall with the palace. And given that my touch could kill, I couldn’t entirely blame them.
“Leave us and shut the doors,” Naomi ordered the footmen, her voice sharp with impatience. She waited until she and her husband were alone before jumping to her feet and beginning to pace. “This is bad. If we ever needed proof that His and Her Majesty are amassing power, here it is. I think they ordered the murders of Lady Darcy’s and Lord Sean’s shamans. I think they mean to create strife between the Picards and us so that we will weaken each other and make ourselves easy prey for their schemes.”
Sylvan wrung his hands, letting his anxiety show now that they were alone. “But to what purpose? They have no knowledge of us giving them offense.”
“They have spies everywhere.” Naomi stomped her foot. “And this isn’t about giving offense. I’m sure they knew before we did that Darcy was a missusan. And the spies will tell them that Darcy and Sean are now able to touch without consequence.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in prophecies.”
“I don’t,” Naomi shot back. “But we don’t have to believe in prophecies to know that we couldn’t stay on Earth forever. Events are in motion and these two Sworn Assets are just the start. Geminay is about to change and His and Her Majesty know it. In the meantime, we have to protect ourselves.”
“And just how do we do that?” Sylvan said, his voice rising.
“We keep the Sworn Assets here.” Naomi started pacing again. “Both of them. We keep them here and make sure that they are always on our side. If I’m right about Sean, he has more loyalty to Darcy than he does the House of Picard. Humans are funny that way. We will use that to our advantage.”
“On what grounds do we get to keep him here?” Sylvan cried. “The Picards will demand their Sworn Asset back. He’s the only one they’ve got.”
“But he’s here now. We need them both, my lord husband, because they will have enough power to get us back to the Original Home.” She stopped pacing. “If we play this correctly, if we are smart, we can go back to the home planet as the Supreme Rulers.”
Sylvan grabbed his wife’s arm. “You’re talking of treason.”
“I am talking of being realistic,” she whispered, her voice a hiss. “I didn’t make up the rules. We both know that the first Great House to get back to the Original Home will be made the Supreme Rulers of all the Original People. All the Great Houses in the known universe are eligible. Why can’t it be ours?”
“Because we shouldn’t be thinking of these things,” Sylvan whispered harshly. “Why are these traitorous thoughts even in our heads? Would the Great Mechanic Ratanga approve? This doubt, this uncertainty, is tearing up my brain.”
“It is because of them. Don’t you see it?” Naomi lowered her voice to a whisper. “When the Sworn Assets are together, they’re Disruptors. They upset the Approvals. If they can do that to us, what will they do to the lowborn of Geminay? His and Her Majesty must never find out that Sean and Darcy are Disruptors.”
“I can’t believe you said that word aloud.” Sylvan looked around, terrified that they were overheard. “You know that Disruptors need to be killed immediately. They qualify as weapons against the Crown. Darcy is our creation and we’ll get blamed for allowing our Mechanics to do a poor job of bringing her about. And now her madness has infected the Sworn Asset of the Picards? And just having this conversation makes us traitors. All these options, not knowing how to think, are causing the top of my head to want to come off.”
“Calm yourself.”
“Calm myself?” Sylvan spat back. “What great advice! If anyone finds out that we knew they are Disruptors and we didn’t put them to the lava, His and Her Majesty will Discard us.” He shot the word into Naomi’s ear. “We’ll be drawing baths and dusting sitting rooms.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that.”
“We have to be smart,” Sylvan went on, drumming his fingers in agitation. “We could put them to the lava and find the Mechanic responsible for doing this poor work. The Mechanic will take the blame.”
“We just sent a Second Mechanic to Darcy and she drained him. You want to send another to suffer the same fate?”
“Lady Darcy is dangerous. His and Her Majesty will claim we made a weapon when we created her. She needs to be destroyed.”
“Don’t be stupid. Her power is why we keep her.” Naomi’s eyes narrowed as she thought. “For fifteen thousand years all the Great Houses have waited for a Sworn Asset who would be able to return us to our home planet. If that Sworn Asset is in the form of a Disruptor, so be it.”
“She’ll ruin this House first,” Sylvan said in a voice corrupted by fear. “A missusan kills. That’s all they do. She slays with a touch. We can’t control her.”
“We can if we’re smart. Don’t you see? We’ll use her as a Disruptor, and if His and Her Majesty can no longer maintain the Approvals, then they are unworthy of rule. It is the way of the Original People.”
Sylvan became very still for several moments. “It is known.”
“It is known. But we must be very, very careful. We must not let anyone see that Darcy and Sean are Disruptors.”
“And just how are we supposed to do that? Look what a few minutes in their presence have done to us.”
Naomi nodded her head slowly. “We have time, a full Earth year, before the Approvals on the lowborn begin to weaken. Free will isn’t something that happens quickly. We will keep Sean and Darcy away from the lowborn and carefully watch the Discards who serve them. We can send to the lava those whose minds fill with undisciplined thoughts too soon. I’m not worried. Nearly all of them will follow the habit of their correct thoughts. Whatever happens here will be long over before there’s a complete breakdown in order.”
“Isn’t putting the lowborn and the Discards to the lava a bit drastic? We can send them to have their Approvals renewed.”