Arri- August 5, 2004

August 5, 2004
Dear Keish,

I had a wonderful birthday. I’m so glad you were able to stay for it. With all that was going on, I think I would have forgotten about it entirely if you hadn’t remembered. Uncle W. was pretty embarrassed, but none of us have thought about anything except weddings and spells and fairies for weeks. With all the extended family coming, it is by far the biggest birthday party I’ve ever had. It was so much fun. Imato says we should have invited the Etautcas too. I haven’t seen any of them since the memorial for Father, although I know that several have visited Father privately at the mental home, and I received several happy notes when he was found. None of them has any magic though.
It seems strange that I’m an adult now. Eighteen. I don’t really feel any older at all.
The month of August looks extremely quiet compared to June and July. I have several invitations to tea with various relatives, but no lessons, no weddings, no major events of any kind. Well, I do have to find a place to live, since it is too far to walk from our apartment to the college. But that doesn’t seem like so much to do. I asked Nysa if she wants to continue magic lessons in the cave, and she said that we all need a break. I rather agree.
I hope you had a good journey home and that you were able to catch up on all the sleep we lost. It is nice to know that all of the weddings are over. Even if cousins Beagan or Corey do decide to get married in the next year, we’ll only have to show up for the spell, right? No, Aunt Nysa says it would be rude not to go to the wedding and reception too. I guess she’s right. Liop says he will bring the fire newts. Hopefully no one gets engaged soon. It’s going to take me a couple of years to recover from this. Nysa just asked me what I’ll do if I get engaged. I told her I would elope. Uncle W. laughed and shook his head.

The first thing to do after you left was to go to the cave and report on the success of the spell to Trena. I did this on August 3rd. Of course, the Winged Lioness had no interest in hearing about magic until I had described Imato’s wedding in great detail.
“I’ve always liked fire newts,” she concluded as I described the table decorations, “They lend such a dramatic element to any setting. Liop had them well in hand, I’m sure.”
“Well, he could talk to them,” I acknowledged doubtfully, “but fire newts don’t have very big brains, so they didn’t think very much about what he was telling them. He was able to herd them under tables and off the dance floor when they escaped. The children had a lot of fun catching them.”
Trena chuckled. “It’s bad luck for everything at a wedding to be perfect,” she told me, repeating an old superstition with which I am familiar.
“I suppose,” I said slowly, “and I do like fire newts when they stay in their bowls.”
“Liop is quite a character. I should like to see him tackle a dragon,” she stood stiffly and stretched until the tips of her great silver wings touched either side of the room we were in.
“When he’s older, of course,” she added, smiling at my worried expression. She walked carefully around the room, flexing her wings a bit and shaking her head. I watched curiously.
“We’re going to take a little trip, Arrietta,” she said finally, folding her wings neatly and sitting before me.
“But I thought you couldn’t leave this cave,” I responded.
“It is not a physical trip, exactly, although you will feel as though you really are there. It is a kind of memory spell. I will perform it; you will just be along for the ride.”
“What are we going to see?” I asked curiously.
“My wedding,” she purred, “You’ve told me so much of your family, I’d like to share a little of my own. Now, for this spell, I will need to maintain eye contact with you. The hardest part will be not to blink.”
That did sound hard. “Won’t my eyes dry out?” I wondered.
“No actual time will pass, although you will feel that time is passing,” said the Lioness, “It is more a trick of conquering your instincts than fighting discomfort. Are you ready? Stand up so that our eyes are close to the same level… Good… Now look into my eyes…”
Trena’s eyes are very bright gold with large round pupils in the dim cave light. My head buzzed a bit and I swayed, dizzy. Then suddenly my feet jerked as though I had just completed a jump—yet I had not actually moved. My first instinct was to look down, but I was afraid I would break the spell. My vision blurred briefly and when it cleared I saw that I was standing on the side of a canyon and sitting before me, just as she had been in the cave, was the Winged Lioness.
And yet it was not the Winged Lioness. This lioness was young. Deep ochre wings lay folded against her sides and her fur shone golden in the afternoon sun. She was looking straight at me, gold eyes sparkling, laughing. She looked so happy and beautiful that I wanted to throw my arms around her neck and just laugh with her. But she wasn’t really seeing me at all. She was looking straight through me at something else. Could I turn and see what it was without breaking the spell? Or did I have to stand looking at Trena? It seemed like I would miss much of the memory if I could only look directly at the Lioness.
“I must maintain eye contact with you, but not the other way around. Don’t blink,” came the Lioness’s voice in my head. That didn’t make much sense. It had only been a minute and already I wanted to blink very badly. Carefully, I turned my head away to look behind myself. My vision was not perfectly clear, as though Trena’s gold eyes were a stained glass window that I looked through to see what was beyond.
Not far below us spread the entrance to the canyon. Heavy forest rose on either side and stretched above my vision, but the floor of the canyon was clear. A river ran out with wide banks of wild grass on either side. My vision was both wide and restricted. I could only look where Young Trena was looking, at a gathering of winged lions below her. There were several lions circling a young male in the center. My first thought was that it was Banquo, but it couldn’t have been. Banquo was not yet born. They seemed excited, engaged in a joyous reunion. I heard exclamations and demands made of the lion for a story of all his adventures, but after greeting each member of his family affectionately, he pulled away from them, looking around hopefully. Then his eyes rose in my direction.
The lion’s eyes were vivid green and as they locked onto me I saw them fill with wonder and joy. But not for me. He wasn’t really looking at me. He was looking at Trena behind me. He raced in her direction and I sidestepped quickly, forgetting that I wasn’t really there. He bowled the Lioness over and grabbed one of her ears in his teeth, yanking hard until she cried out and pulled away from him.
“What was that for?” she demanded, assuming irritation.
“For nearly getting yourself killed in my place,” he growled, “I thought you were dead for five years!”
Trena shuddered and looked at him. As she did so I got a sideways glimpse of her and saw a long scar down one haunch. The lion saw the scar too. He moved to examine it, but she turned quickly to face him.
“It worked didn’t it?” she responded, a slight growl in her throat, “And I hardly intended to let them kill me.”
He sat back awkwardly and looked at her as though at a stranger. It seemed that her ferocity startled him.
“I would not be alive without you,” he said finally.
“My debt repaid,” Trena’s ears went back in genuine irritation.
The lion looked away.
They sat like that a long time. It was awkward watching them, painful. That they loved each other was obvious, but equally plain was that they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Finally, the lion looked sideways at Trena.
“I’ve been to the Brio caves,” he said softly. Trena cocked one ear in his direction.
“Fountains and waterfalls, sparkling pools of water overhung with stalactites… They’re amazing!”
Trena turned back and crouched down. Wrapping her long tail around her feet she settled herself into a comfortable position.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
The lion shifted a little closer to her, tiptoeing over to sit next to her. He looked up at the tops of the mountains and closed his eyes.
“They stretch for miles,” he continued, “with more caverns than anyone could possibly count…” As he spoke my vision blurred and the dizzy feeling returned.

When my sight cleared I was standing on the peak of a windswept mountain. The cold stung my bare arms while violent gusts tugged at my braids. It was hard not to believe I was actually there. Young Trena and the green-eyed lion, Alder, stood with their parents, an old lion, and a human man who performed a marriage ceremony. I could not think of a more stark or breathtaking location for a wedding. The sky was cold and clear. Snow capped the surrounding mountains, all lower than the one on which we stood. I looked at the man closely, wondering who he was. He married them with only a few words. With the close of the ceremony all the lions roared their approval, voices echoing for several minutes in the mountains.
I expected at that point for the spell to end and return me to the cave, but the scene shifted again and I saw Young Trena back in the forest with four tiny lion cubs wrestling between her paws.
“Why is there only one with wings?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“Not all lions are born with magic, even to magical parents,” Old Trena responded softly in my head, “Aren’t my sons beautiful?” She purred.
They were beautiful, gold with dark spots and large blue eyes. I remembered that the winged cub would one day serve my mother. We lingered over the peaceful image a long time. I could not tell if the purring in my ears came from Old or Young Trena.

I was not prepared when the scene changed again to one of violence. My vision cleared briefly on a scene of battle. Men fighting, horses screaming, chaos all around me. Young Trena was watching from a rocky outcropping up a barren canyon. The cubs, still young, were hiding in the rocks. The scene shifted again and again from one moment of battle to another. It took several shifts for me to grasp that Alder was among the fighters and Trena watched helplessly, unable to leave the cubs. I got the sense that she was keeping track of Alder’s movements in the battle through magic.
Suddenly Trena’s vision zeroed in on a dark wizard from the opposing side. In that moment I recognized both the war we were watching and the current year. It was the Great Northern War of 1718, the revolution that won freedom for both Elcaro and Adya. Could Trena really be that old? I did not have time to consider. The dark wizard had seen Alder. Raising his wand he released small point of darkness that darted toward the lion faster than any arrow.
“Look out!” I cried helplessly as Young Trena launched herself from the ledge on which she stood. It was though I was riding her, feeling the muscles of her wings and legs straining to outrace the dark spell. Time slowed down. We were crawling, but so was the point of darkness and all the fighting around us. It wasn’t enough, we would never make it in time. I tried to close my eyes, to black out the memory. I did not want to see Alder fall, but my eyes refused to cooperate.
As the point of darkness reached Alder a human man rose up before it. The spell struck him in the head and Trena roared, drowning out all other sounds. As the man fell I caught a glimpse of his face, the same man from the windswept mountain where Trena and Alder were married.
Shock coursed through me and my vision went black.

“Arrietta?” Old Trena’s worried voice roused me. I opened my eyes and looked around. We were back in the cave.
“Arrietta, are you all right?” she nosed me anxiously.
I shook myself and looked around.
“Yes,” I said slowly, “Who was that? The man that saved Alder?”
“It was your ancestor, Guthrie Brio,” said Trena softly, “A brave and loyal friend indeed.”
I pulled my knees up and put my arms around them, sitting against the wall of the cave.
“He didn’t die,” Trena murmured.
“He didn’t?” I asked.
“No,” she looked away, “he was rather like… like your father…” She trailed off sadly.
“Oh,” I put my head on my knees.
“Look at me, Arrietta,” Trena said firmly.
I looked up.
“This life short,” she raised her eyes to the ceiling, “just one small part of eternity… Now I have not finished what I wanted to show you.”
Reluctantly, I stood, raising my eyes to Trena’s.

The next scene showed me the building of New Rousha. It was strange to see buildings that now look quite old in pristine condition. I was not sure at first how this related to Trena, but then I realized that Guthrie’s son Leland was acting as counselor to the new king. Trena, Alder, and the cubs were living in the palace, stalking each other around the corners of corridors and chasing horses in the surrounding fields. Leland grew old and died in the palace, safe, as his name implied. Then Alder and Trena left with their now grown sons.
Trena did not show me the death of Alder. I suppose it was too personal to relate. I understood however that he died in the 1909 battle with Greste and it was then that Trena went to live in the caves. It seems strange that someone could live through so many terrible battles only to die in one that although terrible, was not the devastating war of 200 years earlier. They were not young anymore, but they were still at the height of their magic.
When the last vision fell away from my eyes, I sank to the floor in exhaustion.
“Thank you for letting me share my story,” said Trena softly, “It is not common knowledge like it once was. I would not like it to be forgotten.”
When I returned to the apartment, I decided to see what of Trena’s story I could find in the Chronicle. I lifted the cover and flipped randomly through several pages. All were blank. I stared in consternation for a few minutes. Then, understanding, I found my griffon quill pen and began to write.

August 6th

I decided to ride Sprigs over to the college so that I can register for classes in September. I am so glad that Imato left him with me to care for. I left him at the college stable and walked over to the administration building. Several of the young men looked curiously at me when I got in line with them to wait for a coursework counselor. It was hard to decide where to turn my eyes in the windowless brick hallway. I finally settled on counting the tiles on the floor. Ten across, one with a rather interesting crack… shaped like a rabbit or a dragon, I couldn’t decide which. Finally I made it to the front of the line and a coursework counselor called the next person.
The counselor was an elderly woman, very round with mostly silver hair bound in a tight bun on top of her head. My initial surprise and interest was checked by her firm frown.
“Miss Etautca,” she said flatly. I looked around, not used to hearing my proper name. When I finally realized she meant me, I felt foolish. Of course she wouldn’t use “Lady Arri” when addressing me. I don’t really have a title, and people call me Lady purely from respect for Father. It should have been a relief, but somehow I couldn’t relax with those hard, gray eyes glaring at me.
“I am Mistress Thorpe,” she informed me, opening her ledger to a blank page. I watched her write my name across the top in an elegant script. “Your address?” she demanded.
“Eight Castleside Park,” I replied promptly.
“Your student address,” she corrected me.
“Oh,” I shuffled one foot nervously across the tile, “I just want to register for classes. I don’t have a student address yet.”
“You can’t register without an address,” she replied simply, and closed the book. Thwack! She looked up at me with an oddly satisfied expression.
“Oh,” I said blankly, “Why?”
“Your address goes at the top of the page and your schedule at the bottom,” she responded, as though this was a perfectly sensible explanation.
“Um, okay,” I said, “I’ll just go find someplace…” I turned to leave, thoroughly intimidated.
“Miss Etautca,” she said. I stopped and turned back.
“All students must live in the dormitories.”
Phyfe had a lot to say about college dormitories. I saw the problem immediately. She watched me silently as I struggled for a response.
“Where did Madame Athica live?” I asked finally.
I had surprised her. That was something. She looked down at her book.
“I haven’t the faintest,” she said finally, “It was rather a long time ago, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s true,” I agreed, feeling a little more confident, “Anyway, I can talk to the dean of students about it.”
“The Dean’s time is very valuable. The Cause of Women will not be helped if you begin by asking for allowances,” she concluded, regaining her position.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Again, she watched me.
“Well,” I said at last, “I can ask the Queen.” Then I ran from the room before anything else confusing could be said.

It seemed like a better idea to ask the dean first, before applying to Queen Elspeth for help. I found out that you need an appointment to meet with Dr. Bothe, the Dean of Students, and the first available appointment was in three days. That was okay with me because it gave me time to research my options on where to live.
I began by walking around the edge of campus. This seemed like a good idea because it was almost as close as living in the dormitories would be. Several tall, old houses had rental signs out. I walked up to the first one I came to and knocked on the door. I was immediately admitted by a maid and ushered into the office of the landlord. He stared at me incredulously.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said sadly, “but I cannot allow a single young lady to rent one of my rooms. All of the other tenants are men.” The maid showed me to the door.
All of the other houses gave similar responses. I had assumed finding a small apartment somewhere would be easy. After all, it had been easy for Uncle Winthrop.
As evening approached and my search took me increasingly further from campus, I began to feel frustrated. Even the apartments with independent entrances were not available to a “solitary young female.” They seemed convinced no good could come of it. Some seemed genuinely worried for my welfare and others treated me like a criminal. I took to mentioning Madame Athica at every opportunity, but since most people hadn’t heard of her, it didn’t always help.
I arrived back at the apartment late for dinner and very discouraged.
“We could all move,” Uncle Winthrop suggested after some consideration, “They are right about it not being good for you to live alone, Arri.”
I frowned, “If we moved, then you would be two hours from work. That doesn’t work either. Liop would have to switch schools again.” Liop’s head darted up with a worried expression.
Uncle Winthrop turned his eyes on Nysa and I knew what he would suggest next, but I also knew that for Nysa to come with me wasn’t the right solution either. Uncle W. needs Nysa, especially with me not around to help with Liop. Nysa dropped her head and let her hair fall over her face. Uncle W. said nothing.
“We’ll think of something,” he said after a while.

So that is where I am: Thinking. Perhaps the dean will have a solution.
This is a rather a lengthy and serious letter, so I’m going to send it now. How are the school plans going? I’m still amazed that with all the chaos in June and July, you’ll still be able to have courses ready for September. Uncle Winthrop says you would do well in college too, although I’m not clear on whether he thought you should attend college or teach it. Either way, we’re all impressed. Give my love to Uncle Adlen and Jace.
Love,
Arri

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