Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
At last, the woman came, as she always did, alone except for a small, silky-haired dog capering by her side.
The raven spread its wings and sprang from the roof. It glided unsteadily downward and came to a rough landing on the gravel path at the woman’s feet. The stone tumbled from its beak.
The woman let out a startled cry and the little dog jumped back in a frenzy of barking. The raven stretched out its neck and squawked.
The woman swiftly recovered her composure. She turned and scooped the dog into her arms. “Hush, Jewel!” she scolded, and clutching the struggling animal to her breast, she approached the bird where it crouched upon the path, unmoving. She stopped a few paces away and stood regarding the raven with cool sea-green eyes, her sensuous mouth twisted a little in puzzlement.
The aura of her Talent outlined her body in a fiery halo.
He
knew she was the right choice.
From across the vast distance that separated them, through sheer force of will, the Nameless One summoned a wave of energy and sent it spinning through the aether. It tore through the frail body of the raven and blasted the woman between her eyes. She fell backward onto the ground, her brilliant red hair fanning out on the gravel beneath her head. The dog tumbled out of her arms and fled, yapping in terror.
He spoke to the woman, mind to mind.
When he finished, he withdrew, leaving behind a link with which he could join with her when needed.
The ultimate tool was prepared and ready to use. It would bring the Key to him so he could complete the Working.
Deep within the icy darkness of his prison, the Nameless One writhed in pleasured anticipation of his freedom.
Back in the garden, the woman awoke from her swoon. She moaned softly and massaged the back of her head, but despite the pain, her eyes sparkled with understanding. She rose to her knees and searched the path until she found the black stone. Clutching it tightly in her hand, she climbed to her feet.
As she turned to run back toward the keep, the hem of her gown scattered a pile of scorched, black feathers.
~~~
“Jelena, these two of my colleagues, plus myself, are the only fully active members of the Kirian Society,” Amara stated. She inclined her head toward the two women who sat, side by side, on a silk-upholstered couch. “Princess Taya Onjara, wife of the king’s Heir and Mistress of the Society,” she indicated the older of the two with a nod, then acknowledged the younger, “…and Lady Sonoe Kazama, official Companion of the king.”
Jelena bowed low, in the elven style.
“Her manners are good, at least,” Princess Taya commented. “Come here, child, and sit. We have much to discuss.” Jelena quickly obeyed, settling cross-legged on a floor cushion at the feet of the two women. Amara pulled up a chair and sat to the right of the couch.
No one spoke for a long while, or at least, not out loud. Jelena kept her eyes on her folded hands, but she did not need to see the faces of the three women to know that they conversed in mindspeech. A surge of irritation threatened her composure, but she quickly suppressed it. The Kirians would address her when they had need to.
At last, Princess Taya spoke. “Jelena, I can only imagine the immense emotional strain you’ve had to endure in so short a time. How do you feel about all of this?” Jelena looked up sharply, surprised by the question.
“How do I feel?” She studied each of their faces, worried that this was some sort of test, and if she gave the wrong answer, they would deem her unworthy. She ran her tongue over lips gone dry and cleared her throat before answering. “I feel…uncertain. I mean, I am overjoyed to have finally found my father, and relieved that he accepts me, but…but my presence may cause him a lot of trouble, and I don’t want that. As for the other, I have to admit that I am still struggling to understand just what part I am to play in this upcoming battle with…with…”
“The Nameless One,” Lady Sonoe said, finishing Jelena’s sentence. Her green eyes shimmered hypnotically. Jelena bit her lip.
There’s something about her…
Jelena felt as if she had met her father’s Companion before, though she knew she had never laid eyes upon the striking red-haired sorceress until now.
Suddenly, she remembered.
My dream!
“Do you know why we do not speak the true name of our adversary?” Lady Sonoe asked.
Jelena nodded. “A thousand years ago, when the Kirians defeated the sorcerer king Onjara, they stripped him of his power and erased all references to his true name from the records,” she answered.
Lady Sonoe could be the woman I saw in the dream, but…but then that must mean the vision showed me an ally…not an enemy. Why, then, did I feel so afraid?
Aloud, she continued, “The Kirians did this to prevent the power of his name from falling into the wrong hands…of those who might use it to awaken him and usurp his magic for their own purposes.”
“Very good.” Princess Taya inclined her head in approval. “Amara says you are clever and a quick study. There is much to do to prepare you, but I have no doubt that you’ll be ready. Now, there is just one final ordeal you’ll undergo today. Sonoe and I must scan you. We both need to see for ourselves just what it is that you harbor.”
Jelena took a deep breath; she had been expecting this. “May I lie down?”
“Of course,” Princess Taya replied. Jelena made herself comfortable, closed her eyes, and waited.
This scan didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first one Amara had performed on her back at Kerala. Jelena found the discomfort far more bearable because of the special breathing technique her mother-in-law had taught her. Even so, she felt wrung out and a little sick afterward. She remained prone until Amara lifted her into a sitting position and pressed a cup to her lips.
“Drink this, Daughter. It will ease you,” Amara urged. Jelena swallowed a mouthful of the pungent, bitter liquid, gagged, then forced herself to swallow again. Almost immediately, she felt better. Resting her head against Amara’s shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that clung to her mother-in-law’s skin and clothing, a profound sense of peace seeped into her bones. Briefly, Jelena wondered if this was an effect of the drug she had just ingested, but then she decided to enjoy the sensation and not question its origins.
She allowed Amara to ease her back onto the pillows. She could hear the three women murmuring above her but it sounded more like the sighing of the sea heard from afar. She fell into a light doze, and when she awoke, she found herself lying in her own bed, still fully dressed. Someone had thoughtfully removed her shoes.
The drug Amara had given her had the desired effect; Jelena’s fatigue and nausea—aftereffects of the mind scan—had dissipated. She felt as refreshed as if she’d slept an entire night, though the quality of the light streaming in from the bedroom window told her that no more than a couple of hours had passed, at most.
Plenty of time to go down into the city
, she thought. Ashinji had left the family quarters shortly after breakfast in order to reunite with his company and spend the day with them. Jelena did not expect to see him again until evening, so she would have to go on her own.
No matter, it’ll be an adventure. I’d better change clothes, though. Don’t want to risk getting my fancy new outfit dirty.
The Sakehera quarters were quiet and still as Jelena made her way downstairs.
The entire family must be out,
she thought as she departed and made her way to the front of the castle complex, where she paused just outside the main gates to scan the vast sweep of the parade ground. Thin wisps of cloud smeared the otherwise perfect cerulean of the sky. She glanced over at the impassive guards standing motionless at their posts. They all stared straight ahead, ignoring her. She pulled a wide-brimmed hat down on her head and set off across the empty expanse, gravel crunching beneath her boots.
As she walked, Jelena thought about all that had transpired over the last two days, and, not for the first time, a swooping feeling of unreality seized her. The ground beneath her feet had, metaphorically, shifted so drastically that she felt uncertain if she would have the ability to walk the new terrain. She reached up to touch the familiar, comforting shape of her father’s ring, back in its accustomed place beneath her tunic. The king had returned it to her and had promised to have a smaller copy made to fit her finger.
He had made no other promises, but this did not surprise or upset her. Jelena wanted nothing from Keizo Onjara that he did not wish to freely give her.
It’s enough that he’s acknowledged and accepted me as his daughter.
As for the Kirian Society, she still didn’t know what to make of them. Clearly, they believed they would soon be called upon to battle this so-called Nameless One, but Jelena had a hard time accepting that ancient, evil ghosts could rise up to menace the living world. Still, they had promised to train her to use what Talent she had, the prospect of which filled her with excitement.
As she made her way out of the castle precincts and down into the city, the sights and sounds of the streets captured and held her full attention. Never had Jelena seen so many people gathered into one place.
Her main objective was to find the hikui district, called Jokimichi. Ashinji had promised to escort her there himself, but she had released him from his obligation so that he might spend the entire day with his company. In lieu of his personal guidance, he had provided her with written directions, so that she could locate her destination on her own.
She paused outside of a shop selling all types of iron implements and glanced around, getting her bearings.
This must be the street of the ironmongers,
she thought, noting that all the shops in the vicinity stocked similar wares. Ashinji’s directions indicated that she should walk to the end of the street and turn right at the first crossing.
As she made her way along the street, Jelena strained to take in every detail. As children, she and Magnes had loved to look at Duke Teodorus’ big, leather-bound book about the Imperial city of Darguinia. The book contained drawings of all the architectural marvels of the ancient capital of the Soldaran Empire. Jelena could still remember the sense of wonder she had felt while thumbing through that book, imagining what it would be like to stroll Darguinia’s elegant streets.
That childish wonder was as nothing compared to what she felt now, walking through the streets of Sendai. How the elves had managed to so thoroughly integrate their city within the confines of a mighty forest seemed nothing short of astounding. Most of the houses and shops were constructed of wood, topped with roofs of brightly glazed ceramic tiles. She saw buildings of stone as well, and even a few made of red brick, but these looked like meeting halls, rather than private homes or shops. The streets were paved in gravel with cunningly worked stone gutters and curbs.
The people of Sendai themselves appeared to be well-fed and prosperous; Jelena soon discovered that physically, there existed a bit more variation among them than she had previously believed. The folk of Kerala all tended toward fairness of skin and eye color. Now, she saw some elven people with skins the color of bronze lamps, and a very few had complexions so dark, she thought at first that they must be of an entirely different race, but they were, indeed, elves.
For a girl who had been raised in the insular world of a Soldaran castle, the city of Sendai seemed like the busiest, most exciting place in the known world.
The street of the ironmongers crossed a smaller road and as Jelena turned the corner, she nearly stumbled over a boy curled in a tight little ball against the side of a building. She gasped in dismay as her foot connected with the small body, then exclaimed in shock as the child scrambled to his feet and she got a look at his face.
He’s hikui!
The boy stared at her for a heartbeat, then took off running.
“Wait! Come back! I want to talk to you!” Jelena cried out, but the child quickly disappeared, lost among the throng.
Jelena’s heart fluttered as she looked around with more deliberation, searching for other faces with humanish features.
She spotted an old man in front of a tavern, sweeping out the doorway, his face weatherworn and deeply furrowed. The hands that clutched the broom handle were gnarled and thickened with the joint-ill.
Jelena stood in the shadow cast by the shop opposite the tavern and watched the old man for a time. The stoop of his shoulders, the stiffness of his movements, his shabby clothes, the way he looked downward whenever another person walked by him; all of these things Jelena took notice of and a nasty suspicion took root at the back of her mind.
The old man finished his task and retreated into the tavern. Jelena started walking again, her eyes only confirming what her heart didn’t want to believe. She saw more hikui scattered amongst the crowds of elves, and always, they seemed to be engaged in the most menial of tasks: unloading wagons, carrying burdens behind elven masters, sweeping, washing, hauling refuse. Those that weren’t laboring appeared to be beggars. Not once did she see any elf in similar circumstances.
It seems as though my kind aren’t treated any better here than I was back in Amsara,
she thought.
It’s as if I’ve had a veil over my eyes, hiding the truth, but now, the veil’s been pulled away. How naïve I’ve been! Ashi loves me and I know he only wants to protect me, but he should have been more honest about things!