Keish- January 31, 2005

January 31, 2005
Dear Arri,
If I had known that King Menion himself was going to appear in my sitting room I wouldn’t have been so quick to send my letter off yesterday.
Likely I also would have put on a nicer gown instead of an old traveling dress.  Maybe.
Apparently while I was writing to you Jace told Caden that if the king wanted to see me he would have to wait because I wasn’t leaving our suite.
I think Brooksby was secretly thrilled.  “His Royal Majesty, King Menion Garedah,” he announced in his most perfectly proper tone as King Menion swept into the room, followed closely by Caden.
Jace leapt smoothly to his feet and bowed low.
I was far less graceful, unfortunately.  Due, I’m sure to a combination of surprise and lingering exhaustion.  “Your Majesty!”  It came out as more of a squawk as I tried to move my lap desk and the blankets Jace had me cocooned in.
“Please don’t get up, Lady Pren.  I understand you are still recovering from your efforts yesterday,” the king said.
I think I just gaped at him.
Jace, thankfully, was still in possession of some courtly manners.  “Please won’t you sit down, Your Majesty?”  As the king did so Jace motioned to Brooksby who was still hovering in the doorway.
Caden cleared his throat.  “I’ve explained what happened as best I could, Keish, but I think we should all hear it from you.”
“From the beginning,” the king added.
Just then Brooksby returned with a tea tray (in record time, one of the maids must have already been bringing it up) and Papa slipped into the room behind him.
I poured tea and began my story.  No one interrupted, though I think they sometimes wanted to.
When I was finished King Menion asked, “And young Master Brio?”
“I don’t know,” I said softly.  “We’d hoped to perhaps hear something in an official report or dispatch.”
King Menion nodded.  “There was a dispatch, but it was very short-- mostly informing me that the Elcaran royal family was safe and expressing appreciation for whatever it was you had done.  There weren’t any details.  I’m sure King Trunsle will appreciate a full explanation.  I’ll write to him for you, Lady Pren, since I’m sure you need to rest.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said in relief.  I was already going to have to write it out again for Imato-- I didn’t really want to write to King Trunsle.
“However, I will need clarification on a few details if I am to do that,” the king said briskly.  “Perhaps we’ll start with the castle wards?  You broke them?”
“No, Your Majesty.  It was more like realizing I had the key to a locked door.  The wards were not compromised at all,” I assured him.  “It’s similar to having a ward attuned to someone.”
“I’m afraid magical theory was never a subject I studied deeply.”
“It’s demonstrated easily enough, Your Majesty,” I said.
“Keisha,” Jace said in a low voice.
I smiled at him.  “Would you ask Ryland to join us please?”
Jace relaxed visibly and went to the door.  I picked up his empty tea cup and placed it alone on a small footstool.
Ryland appeared almost immediately.  “Yes, My Lord?”
Jace indicated me as he returned to his seat and Ryland looked at me expectantly.
“I need a small favor, Ryland,”  I explained.  “Would you please place a physical ward around this teacup?  Attuned to Jace?”  (With recent events I had taught several wards to Ryland as a precaution.)
“Certainly, My Lady,” Ryland said, formality covering confusion.  He held a hand over the teacup for a moment and stepped back.
“Thank you.  If you’ll wait a moment,” I told him.  I returned to my explanation.  “Now there are many types of wards, of course, but a physical ward will prevent anyone or anything from entering a space.  Would you try touching the teacup, Caden?” I asked, slightly mischievously.
“No thank you,” he replied succinctly.
Jace laughed.  “Come now, Caden.  It’s not one of Imato’s wards after all.”
Caden scowled.
“I’ll try,” the king declared.  He reached for the cup but his hand stopped an inch away.  “Strange,” he said as he pulled back.
“Now Jace,” I said.
Leaning forward, Jace picked up the teacup.  He held it out to the king.  “Your Majesty.”
King Menion reached for it, but again could not touch the cup.  He looked at me thoughtfully.  “I think I understand.”
Jace motioned for Ryland, who removed the ward and then removed the tea things also.
After a moment’s contemplation the king looked intently at me.  “I understand Sir Etautca is very skilled at wards.”
I smiled.  “My cousin is very skilled indeed.  It is his gift.”
“Perhaps when he returns from the border he would be willing to come examine the palace wards.  I’m sure they are not Brio wards and could stand strengthening.”
“I think he would be honored,” Jace responded.
The king nodded decisively then returned to the current situation.  “Was Bradford working alone?” he asked me.
I shook my head.  “I’m sorry, Your  Majesty, but I do not know.  I was unable to divine enough about him without arousing suspicion.”
“So this may not actually be over.”  It wasn’t a question so I didn’t respond.
King Menion sighed and turned to Caden.  “I know I’ve been asking a lot of you, but I’d like you to continue keeping your ears open.  For the time being that will likely have to include not openly ‘renewing’ your friendship.”
Caden nodded.  “I understand.”
“At some point, we also need to figure out why.  Why now?  Why Queen Elspeth?”
“Why any of it,” Papa added dryly.  “Though certainly the timing cannot be coincidental.  Not with the increasing skirmishes at the border and the Sand Tribes joining the fight openly for the first time in at least two decades.”
The king’s face darkened.  “Indeed.  I am considering calling up another division…”
I missed whatever else he said as the room began to spin.  I closed my eyes.
“Keisha?” Jace’s voice was concerned as he put a hand on my arm.
I opened my eyes to find the king standing and everyone staring at me.  “I’m sorry.  Perhaps I am still more drained than I had thought.”  I tried to stand, but Jace wouldn’t let me.
“I have kept you from resting for too long, I’m afraid,” the king said gallantly.  “Please accept my best wishes for your recovery.”  He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway and turned back to Jace.  “I almost forgot.  This was with the dispatch I received.”
Jace moved to take the small slip of paper and Papa showed the king out.
Caden stayed behind.  “What is it?”
Jace unfolded it and chuckled.  “A note from Tulson.”
He held it out and I took it.  There was only a single line:

Jace-- WHAT in the name of heaven is going on?  -Tulson

“I already have to write to Imato.  I refuse to write to Tulson too,” I declared, handing it back.  “Besides, he’s asking you.”
Caden said something, but the room was spinning again.  Jace started to answer, but broke off abruptly.
I had closed my eyes, but I heard the door open and close again as Caden left.
“Imato can wait, love.  You’re going back to bed.”
He lifted me before I could protest.  Had I been capable of protesting, that is.
I slept through the rest of the afternoon, the evening… straight through until this morning.  Jace had Cass take charge of my classes, insisting that I remain in bed.  He’s become very bossy indeed, but I suppose I worried him enough to justify it.

Keaton peeked in earlier.  “Jace said I could see you if I didn’t ask you to do any magic.”
He came all the way into the room and I laughed, instantly understanding why Jace had issued such a warning.
“I don’t suppose that had anything to do with the interesting color of you hair?”  Keaton’s hair is quite red, but not usually the shocking shade it currently is.
He nodded glumly.  “Master Zart says he won’t take me out anywhere as it is.  Not even to see Mistress Tish.”
“But you can’t quite manage the spell to fix it?”  He shook his head.  “What did Jace say?”
“That if I was going to try spells without asking it’s only fair that I should have to suffer the consequences,” Keaton recited.
“Sounds reasonable to me,” I replied with a shrug.  “Excellent motivation, really.  I’m sure you’ll have it worked out in no time.”
He didn’t seem overly excited about that, but he didn’t dwell on it.  “I have a letter from Liop.  He gave me some ideas for more experiments.  This page doesn’t make sense, though,” he said, holding out a sheet of paper and crinkling his nose.
I took it.  “Well, that’s because it’s enchanted and it’s for me.  But it takes no magic for me to read it, so I’ll do so,” I said with a small smile.
It was a note from Uncle W. explaining that while he had indeed discussed Liop’s ideas with him and approved them none of his ideas should be attempted without an adult present and there were several that should not be attempted in the same room.  I decided to write out the instructions for Master Zart just to be safe.
Keaton told me more about his studies and Thor’s latest antics before leaving to spend more time trying to restore his hair to a less vivid hue.
I turned my attention to writing a description of all that had happened for your brother.  Jace came in while I was working on the letter.
“You’ll add my congratulations?” Jace asked when he saw what I was doing.
I hesitated.  “I wasn’t going to say anything about it,” I said finally.
Jace looked at me quizzically.  “Oh?”
“I just… well, what if he doesn’t know?  It’s unfortunate enough that Arri may have learned of it from me first, how much worse if Imato should?”
“You don’t think Gretel told him?”
“I think if she wasn’t certain she may not have said anything.  It would be one more thing for him to worry about.”
Jace was silent for several moments as I continued to write.  Suddenly he said, “Promise me you’d tell me.”
He’d startled me out of my train of thought and I gave him a questioning look.
He reddened slightly.  “In similar circumstances… please promise you’d tell me.  No matter how I might worry.  Please, Keisha.”
I nodded.  “Okay.”
Jace smiled and went back to grading midterms.
“We don’t know that she didn’t tell him,” I said quietly.
Jace nodded.  “I know.  But I’m glad you promised.”


Feb. 1st
After finishing my letter to Imato and writing the above the room was spinning again, which is a sensation I am becoming heartily sick of.  I was supposed to grade my own midterms, but Jace noticed, of course, and insisted I go back to bed.
I guess I really overdid it this time-- I fell asleep immediately again.
Caden came while I was sleeping, offering to send a letter to Tulson or Imato using one of the pigeons he has access to if we had a letter ready.  Jace sent both letters with him, so Imato should receive mine in only 3 days or so, instead of it taking a week.  Caden even promised to use a bird who would wait for a response.  I’m not sure whether I’m happy about that or not.  How irritated do you think Imato will be with me this time?  I’ve been too tired to contemplate such things.
Today, however, I am feeling much more myself, though Cass has my classes again.  If this keeps up I may as well just turn the rest of the semester over to her.

Later
I have a personal letter from Queen Elspeth thanking me.  I’m not sure what to say in response.  Knowing what I knew it’s not as though I could have not acted.  Beagan, Corey and Mendel were the ones who actually stopped Bradford.  Beagan was the one who was injured.

Feb. 2nd
I swear to you that if Jace didn’t still have me confined to the tower I would likely have to do something very drastic to, or at least about, Gretel’s mother.
Maybe you shouldn’t let Gretel read this part.
I’ve never thought Sir Aoweir controlled Lady Aoweir in any way, but apparently he kept her in check some because now that he’s gone she’s become entirely impossible.
I won’t repeat any of the things she’s said but don’t let Gretel look at her letters.  And I refuse to be the one to tell her about Gretel’s condition.  I’m not sure anyone should tell her.
I suppose it’s good that Jace is still playing at the tyrannical husband (he laughs as he reads over my shoulder) because a scene with Lady Aoweir is likely not the kind of attention I need right now.  Reports are coming in from Rousha, of course, and King Menion has been firm in his support and generous in his praise, but the tide of court gossip does not always change so easily.  Rumors are flying-- Caden’s hearing the most ridiculous and sometimes appalling things at parties.  It’s starting to make him wonder if Bradford had co-conspirators in Adya.
According to the official reports, Bradford refuses to say anything.  With the court magicians still recovering the interrogation has yet to have a magical component, but he may be skilled enough to block even that.  At least Brynn should be back in Rousha by now.  She spent the week in Darse rather than attending the Winter Festival.  Perhaps she can do something.

Feb. 3rd
I have your letter and I’m going to force myself to answer each and every detail in turn… If only to give myself something to do since Jace still insists I am not recovered enough to teach.  He finally relented about small magic after Keaton accidentally turned his face blue trying to restore his natural hair color, but in other areas he refuses to yield.  I think you’ll agree that it’s a testament to how weak I still am that I’m not fighting him on any of it.

Lunch with Tulson and Clara sounds like a wonderful diversion, though I’m not sure I’d have quite the patience you do for Tulson’s reflections.
I sent a message to Tish asking about the family’s magic but her response said that sadly she herself has none.  She rather wishes she did, especially as she watches Keaton try to combine science and magic.
Matches seem very useful, though I haven’t lit a flame with anything but magic in at least a year.  I’ve gotten too used to snapping my fingers at the candles, Jace says.
I’m glad they gave Gretel a passenger pigeon.  I feel better knowing that she can get letters to and from Imato more quickly.
It’s terribly unfortunate that you had to skip the food stalls, but I’m glad you got out shopping.  I didn’t think Gretel was that interested in weaponry-- do you suppose that’s Imato’s influence?  I certainly hope it isn’t a bizarre symptom of her condition.
I am so very proud of your healing skills.  Soon you’ll have people lined up asking you to heal them-- especially to remove smoke from lungs.  Dr. Stoddart should certainly know what his pipe is doing to his lungs.
Personally I’ve never understood why one would breathe in smoke of any kind on purpose.

It had never occurred to me, or to Jace (or Caden for that matter) that Gretel didn’t already know her condition.  Jace feels better that she didn’t tell Imato only because she didn’t know.  I suppose Gretel wasn’t happy to learn that Caden noticed.  He says he’ll send her a letter of apology.

Mendel’s scene was a masterful piece of comedy, though I resent his assertion that I interfered in his enjoyment of the joust.  Surely the FlyBy gave a detailed account of who won.  You may tell him that next time I shall be truly blatant if only so that he realizes how subtle I was.
As for the idea of Beagan being knighted, I say he deserves it.  And I distinctly saw him throw two punches, the second being interrupted by a knife was not strictly his fault.
You’re handling of Mendel was even more masterful-- well done indeed.

I am very relieved to hear that Beagan is well.

Absolutely NO ONE is making me a countess.  I refuse.  As for de-honoring me, Mendel is welcome to make the suggestion but somehow I doubt I’m lucky enough for anyone to take it seriously.
  Jace is declaring loudly, though not seriously, that Mendel would be wise to be more careful in speaking about another man’s wife if he doesn’t want his ears boxed.

Does Mendel have any thoughts as to how to ride a dragon without being eaten?

Of course Taty, Nysa and Liop can come to stay for a week!  Keaton will be thrilled.  Maybe I’ll give all magic lessons over to Nysa for the week-- it will be finals and would be a huge relief to me to know that Keaton was in good hands on that score.
I wish you could come too, though.

Master Grant seems very helpful.  I’m glad you can work with him.  Both Tish and I eagerly await descriptions of your experiments.

How does it feel, Arri?  It feels exhausting.  I’ve slept a ridiculous amount and I know that part of Jace’s protectiveness lies in the thought that if this is not over I may have to do something like that again.  I hope not quite on that scale or that level of urgency though.

I think I’ve responded to everything and the sun is actually out so I’m going to send Clotho off with this and sneak away from my keepers.  Not even Jace would begrudge me a half hour in my garden now that the sun is out.

Love Always,

Keish

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Arri- January 26, 2005

January 26, 2005
Dear Keish,

Lunch with Lady Clara and Duke Tulson was lovely.  We had to eat a little late because of my writing class getting out at one, but it was worth it. The new Duke and Duchess of Lake Lowell will be maintaining what is now called the Lowell mansion. It is in Old Rousha on the northeast side of the castle. Clara says it’s ridiculous for two people without children to live in such a large house, but Tulson says they will fill it soon enough. Clara blushed deeply at that and changed the subject, but I could see that she wasn’t in a condition.
Tulson and Clara do not know anything yet about the person you are looking for in the Elcaran castle. They were very disturbed by the idea that there might be a traitor with such easy access to the royal family. Everything that anyone can think of to do to identify the person is being done, but there’s so little information to go on. Nothing useful was learned from questioning Sir Waldbauer.
We spent the majority of the afternoon talking about Iconei and Aegolius’s family. Aegolius is from the city of Byuing, which is the second largest city in Iconei and possibly the most prominent for science and innovation. They have a university there, called the Byuing State University, that makes Rousha University look like an academy. In Iconei magic is considered inferior to science and Aegolius is unusual in that his parents, when they found out he was magical, hired a tutor to train him. Most Iconeians with magic learn only the most basic of spells. Aegolius comes from an upper-middle class family, the Tekielas who are also one of the oldest magical lines in Byuing. Sadly, their magic is dying. Aegolius has tried to interest his children and grandchildren but with little success. Clara and Tulson met many of Aegolius’s relatives who were as interested in learning about Elcaro as Clara and Tulson were about Iconei. They are all, men and women, very well educated, considering it extremely important. They were shocked to learn that Tulson, as a prince and duke, had only a bachelor’s degree in business and some specialized tutoring in politics. The government of Iconei requires all of its leaders to first obtain a master’s degree in governance, which course of study includes accounting, business, political history, and sociology. I got the idea it’s one of the most difficult degrees to obtain. Many of their leaders have doctorates.
We looked at literally hundreds of reflections taken on the trip. Many of them were pictures of inventions that Clara and Tulson saw during their tour of the university. One daguerreotype was a mess of metal disks and wet cardboard called a “battery” which is supposed to be some sort of power source, although they aren’t sure yet what to do with the power. There were numerous daguerreotypes of experimental unfinished mechanical parts for a machine that sews. If they ever get that machine working, I definitely want one. A simpler invention was a metal thing called a wrench, which is used for tightening things called bolts. I think Master Soloway would be interested in that for his carpentry classes. They also brought back several boxes of toothpick-like pieces of wood called “matches” that can light a fire by scraping them against a rock. I’m not sure they’re really all that better than a good piece of flint, but Clara likes them.
Clara gave me a very stylish Iconese hat as a souvenir. It’s straw-colored and has a wide woven brim with three tiny, red silk flowers sewn on. It doesn’t look quite like anything I’ve seen in Rousha. I must send a sketch of it to Treany.
Eventually, we found ourselves talking about the news in Rousha. When Lady Clara heard that Imato was in one of the army divisions the king called up, she grew very still. After a few minutes she excused herself and left the room. Tulson cast a quizzical glance in her direction then followed her out. They came back several minutes later with a passenger pigeon in a small cage.
“Please give it to Gretel, so she can exchange letters with Imato more quickly,” said Lady Clara, “I can’t imagine what it must be like for her right now.”
I swallowed hard and accepted the bird gratefully.

January 28th
When I gave her the passenger pigeon, Gretel burst into tears, saying it was the kindest present she had ever received. She named her Express, and she is already living up to her name, delivering a letter to Imato.
Gretel was true to her word about the shopping. We yesterday morning and arrived at the market just as it was opening. What Gretel didn’t account for was her upset stomach. We had to completely avoid the food stands because even the scent of them made her stomach turn. She said all the stress from the gossip columns and Imato’s deployment was impacting her stomach. I didn’t say anything. I knew she’d give me a better explanation when she was ready.
Other than food stands, we went in every festival booth and considered buying just about every type of item from clothing to cookware to hammers and saws. We spent rather a long time looking a booth that sold arbalests which fascinated Gretel for some reason. I thought they looked scary.
We spent the entire day, despite the light snowfall, and didn’t get home until after dark. Then we both collapsed in our rooms and were instantly asleep.

Today I left long before dawn so that I could visit Father and still be back in time to have breakfast with Gretel. Dr. Rascada was up to meet me. He has an uncanny was of predicting what days I will come and arranges his schedule so that he can see me at least every other week. It’s very nice of him, since I know he doesn’t normally start work so early. Father was asleep and didn’t wake up. I watched, disappointed for a while and then decided to go into the little chapel to sit and think before returning to Gretel’s house. I was trying to decide if there was a way I could encourage Gretel to tell me about her condition without her knowing that I already knew.
I was interrupted by the sound of violent coughing. I turned around and was surprised to see an older couple had entered from the back of the room. I recognized them from other visits to the home, although I had never spoken with them. The husband was the one coughing and I suddenly remembered that I had heard him coughing the last time I saw them, and every other time I could remember. The cough was chronic and I began to wonder what caused it.
“Excuse us,” said the wife reddening, “we didn’t mean to disturb you.”
I reddened too, realizing that I had been staring at her husband.
“You’re not disturbing…” I trailed off, “I was just… I was wondering why your husband coughs so much?”
“Well,” said the woman slowly, “he used to be a smoker, for quite a few years. He stopped a couple of years ago, but it seems to be too late. We thought the smoke would eventually work its way out of his lungs, but there’s been no change. You should take a lesson from that, child.” She put a hand lovingly on her husband’s shoulder and smiled kindly.
Smoke in the lungs. I hadn’t ever thought about smoking cigars in that way before: contamination. Memories of the boy fairy and the smoke in Liop’s and Glory’s lungs came immediately to my mind. A kind of excitement gripped me.
“Maybe,” I said, thinking out loud, “Excuse me, but maybe I could help?”
“Oh?” asked the women, smiling with bewilderment.
I explained about the fire and the natron and the smoke. Soon I had her husband’s attention too. His eyes widened.
“You think you could pull smoke particles from my lungs?” he asked.
“They’d be similar to wood smoke, wouldn’t they?” I asked.
“Seems like it,” he said.
We were so excited that we immediately went in search of Dr. Rascada. He was fascinated by the idea and offered us a room to use. The husband, a blacksmith named Master Karford, lay down on the bed and I put a hand on his shoulder. I sent the magic in and looked at his lungs.
It wasn’t the same as healing Liop or even the boy fairy. Years of continual smoke exposure had built up in his lungs until nearly half of the air sacs were clogged and unusable. I was startled to realize that this time I actually knew names, from my anatomy class, for what I was looking at. The bronchioles, branches of the lungs were dark with soot. I tugged at a bit of it and it came loose but hardly made a significant change in the damage to his lungs. It took me all morning to clean out the particles. Dr. Rascada sent a boy to let Gretel know I would be late so that she wouldn’t worry. When I was finished, Master Karford took several deep, steady breaths.
“Amazing,” he said, “I feel thirty years younger.”
The couple thanked me so much that I felt embarrassed. I was excited about what I’d accomplished. I wanted to tell Master Ujifil about it. I wanted to write you a letter. I healed someone!
The rest of the day passed by me in a blur. I kept thinking about the morning, wondering if Mother had ever healed someone’s lungs. I also wanted to go to Odsreq and tell Dr. Stoddart exactly what that pipe is doing to his lungs and he really should stop smoking it immediately. It doesn’t just smell bad and make your breath short for a little while: they’re completely dangerous.

January 30th

Yesterday was crazy. You already know that.
I’m going to start with my side of the story, since I don’t have your side yet anyway.
“Arri, I’m not feeling well at all,” said Gretel yesterday morning as she stared at a half-eaten slice of toast, “You might want to stay away from me today.”
“You’re not contagious,” I said carelessly, wanting her to finish getting ready so we could go to the Princes’ Joust, “Moving around might help.”
“But I think all the stress may have turned into the flu,” she said.
I looked up at her, worried. She looked about the same as the day before.
Gretel put her head in her hands.
“Stress doesn’t normally make me this sick,” she continued, “I was fine when we were planning the wedding.”
Mother taught me a long time ago to never be the first to say anything about a woman’s condition, no matter how obvious. I didn’t say anything. I just waited.
“Of course, the wedding was mainly positive stress,” Gretel was mostly talking to herself, “and this is mainly negative stress. But then when Liop was abducted, that was very negative stress and I felt a little queasy sometimes, but not nearly as sick as this. I hope I’m not developing Mother’s nerves…”
“Um, Gretel,” I interrupted uncertainly, “maybe you’re worrying too much… I mean you’re delicate and…”
“I am not delicate!” Gretel said sharply, “I’ve never been delicate in my life. I’m built like my father, not—”
It was too much. I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Then I reddened and went still.
“I’m not!” repeated Gretel, her temper rising, “I’m no more delicate that you are. Arri?”
I had put my hands over my face.
“Did your mother ever tell you what it was like… um… before you were born?”
The room became very still. I peeked at Gretel through my fingers. She was as red as I felt.
“No,” she said slowly, “Arri, are you… am I…? How can you tell?”
“I can tell,” I said simply, “but I thought you knew. I mean, most women do, because there are symptoms.”
“What are the symptoms?” Gretel asked, “I’ve never known anyone, at least not very well, who was… like this. I’ve been meaning to ask someone, maybe Lady Pren, but it didn’t seem urgent. Are you sure, Arri?” She frowned doubtfully at me. “I’m not any bigger than I was when I got married. Can everyone tell?” The pitch of her voice rose nervously.
“It’s too early for most other people to tell,” I assured her, “I have a gift with this sort of thing. My mother had it too. I can tell pretty early, sometimes before the woman knows herself. But I never say anything. Most women like to keep it a secret as long as possible and saying something would be violating that right. I thought you were doing that…”
Gretel put her head back in her hands.
“I thought it was stress,” she moaned. Then she looked up sharply, “Can Imato tell? Does he have this gift?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, “He’s never said anything.”
“He wouldn’t,” she grumbled, “He’d think it was inappropriate.”
I thought she was being awfully unfair to Imato. After all, they’re married. I said so.
Gretel sighed.
“We’ve all been so obsessed with the gossip rags and the border skirmishes, I haven’t given anything else much thought. Okay, Arri,” she looked at me curiously, “tell me everything you know about my condition. What are the symptoms?”
We talked for a long time. The fact is that I know quite a bit about this condition. Mother was expecting twice within my memory, although the first time didn’t last. It was from this that I learned how important it is not to say anything. Then when Liop was coming, I was old enough to ask a lot of questions and Mother answered as many as she could, although some, she said, would have to wait till I was ready to marry.
Gretel has never learned anything. It’s not something her mother talks about and with very few relatives and no married friends… well, she just doesn’t know anything except that a woman gets bigger. As we talked, Gretel’s excitement mounted. She was even able to eat a bit. Suddenly she burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked.
“I said I wasn’t delicate,” Gretel giggled, “I said I was built like my father!”
We laughed for a long time over that. Then Gretel started to cry.
“Imato doesn’t know,” she sobbed, “How am I going to write this in a letter? He’s going to think I’m a complete idiot.”
“He won’t think that,” I said, “I bet you’re not the only new wife this has happened to.”
“And Arri, what if it’s like… like with your mother…”
“It won’t be,” I interrupted quickly, “Mother was resistant to magical healing, but you aren’t, and I’m a healer. I won’t let anything happen like that.”
We decided not to go to the Princes’ Joust. Instead we stayed home and traded our comedy novels to read. Gretel still had trouble eating, but I think it’s better that she wasn’t at the joust, considering what happened there.

It was late afternoon when Emily announced the unexpected arrival of both Master Corey Gray and Mendel. Gretel and I looked at each other in surprise. Reluctantly, I set my novel aside.
“We’ll meet them in a few minutes in the parlor,” said Gretel. Then we both rushed to our rooms to change into more suitable dresses for company.
“But Mendel and Corey hardly know each other,” I said, meeting Gretel in the hallway and heading downstairs to the parlor.
“It must be something about the man Keish is looking for at the castle,” Gretel responded. We hurried.
As we entered the parlor both Corey and Mendel stood and bowed to us.
“Good afternoon Lady Etautca, Lady Arri,” said Mendel with so much solemnity that I knew immediately he’d been up to some mischief and was struggling to hold it in.
Corey echoed the sentiment and Gretel invited them to sit down.
They both started to talk at once, but Corey check himself and let Mendel lead.
“To be short,” he said, “the queen’s life is spared and Master Beagan is to be knighted.”
“What?” we all asked, including Corey.
“And I would appreciate it if your cousin would find some more subtle way of interrupting my social engagements,” concluded Mendel, “I entirely missed the end of the joust and haven’t the slightest idea who won.”
He folded his arms and waited for our response. I could see he was enjoying himself immensely. Corey looked confused. Gretel looked at me. I refused to rise to the bait.
“Thank you for the information,” I said as calmly as I could, “I am most relieved.”
Mendel’s brows arched and he blinked.
“There’s more to it than that,” said Corey finally, “and I don’t think Beagan is going to be knighted. He only threw one punch.”
“It was a good one,” said Mendel.
“Would you please begin at the beginning?” asked Gretel finally.
Corey started again, but he was confused about how exactly you spoke to him, so Mendel jumped in with explanations. I don’t need to tell you about most of it.
“We came here,” concluded Corey, “because you can get a letter to Keish faster than anyone. She’ll want to know that Beagan is at the hospital, but they should release him tonight. His arm needed some stitching, nothing serious.”
“Bradford is in custody,” continued Mendel, “I’ll let you know what they do with him, but Keish will probably have letters from the king and queen with that information. She is, after all, the hero of the day. She would probably be made a Countess or something if she were in Elcaro. As it is, they’ll think of something. Maybe King Menion will do the honors.”
Gretel smiled with amusement, “Countess Lakeisha. She hates being called ‘Lady’ so much, I wonder what she’ll say to this.”
“I’ll suggest that a better reward would be de-honoring her,” volunteered Mendel, “The King can strip her title so she never has to use it again.”
Gretel laughed. Corey clearly doesn’t know Mendel very well. He looked shocked.
By then it was time for dinner, so Gretel invited Corey and Mendel to dine with us. The cook and Emily were rather flustered by the number of guests, but they managed to come up with enough for all of us. After dinner, Corey excused himself to help bring Beagan home from the hospital. They’ve been friends all their lives.
Mendel stayed to ask what our plans were for the next day and invite us to join him and Gordo. After that Gretel had to run upstairs suddenly because dinner didn’t agree with her stomach. Emily went to help and that left me and Mendel alone. I wanted to ask him if he was mad at me for not saying much about the gossip columns, but he didn’t seem mad and I didn’t like to bring it up if he wasn’t. But then I worried started to worry about it, so finally I said: “I’m sorry for not saying anything about the gossip columns and trying to find out about the political comments.”
Mendel looked surprised.
“You hate the gossip columns,” he said, “why would you want to talk to me about them? I almost never read them either.”
“Well, you’re connected to the royal family, and they were involved, and…” I trailed off uncertainly.
“Tulson filled me in on everything,” Mendel responded, shaking his head, “and none of us knew it was going to come to an assassination attempt on my aunt.” He shook his head, looking as confused by that part as I felt. “I don’t always tell you my business. Why should you have to tell me all of yours?”
He smiled and I felt better.
“However,” Mendel continued brightly, “I demand that you inform me the next time you plan to disappear with a magical creature on some distant quest. It will save me a lot of time and trouble trying to catch up. May I suggest a dragon next time? I’ve always wanted to ride a dragon.”
And that ended the evening.

February 1st

Your letter came last night, but I was too tired from the Winter Ball to do more than read it. I think I’ve already responded to most of it. Everyone is very impressed that you were able to break through the castle wards.
It was hard telling Gretel that her father’s division has been called to the Grestian border, but she took comfort from the idea that he and Imato will be able to protect each other. I think if it weren’t for her condition, I would have a hard time not convincing her to follow them.
Liop will be thrilled to hear that Caden and Keaton are sending him another alchemy kit. We all had dinner tonight with the Prens. After dinner Gretel and Lady Pren disappeared into a room together to talk, and Uncle W., Nysa, Liop, Taty, Sir Pren, and I all sat around the parlor talking. Liop was scheming about how to come and visit you and Keaton. He gets a spring break the second week in March. I suggested that might be a good time to go. Liop was thrilled, but then we came to the problem of how to accomplish it. Because of the Gazette articles, Uncle W. feels that he should stay in Rousha for a while. Nysa wants to come, but she isn’t comfortable traveling with just Liop. I can’t come because my break is only a couple of days long. Then Taty piped up that she would like to come. Sir Pren gave his permission and Nysa said that having Taty along would be perfect.
So all that remains is to ask you. Can Liop, Nysa, and Taty come visit for a week? Now I’ve asked and they are eagerly awaiting your response.

Master Emil Grant is a young man in his middle twenties. His mother is from Nèahm and he has her olive skin and black hair, rather like the Aoweirs. His eyes, however, are incongruously green. His is very tall and thin, and when he talks you have to pay close attention because he keeps his voice at the level of a whisper. He wears glasses with thin black frames around large round lenses which magnify his eyes out of proportion.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Etautca,” he said when I entered the lab. He motioned to an empty chair, “I’m so sorry to hear that Sir Etautca cannot join you.”
I repeated the sentiment and sat down. In my hands I held a piece of paper, folded in on itself many times and in my nervousness I had to be careful not to shred it.
“I have a hypothesis,” I began awkwardly.
“That’s very good,” said Master Grant.
He waited while I unfolded my piece of paper and looked at it. I had reread the chapter in my Beginning Biology book on how to create a hypothesis very carefully.
“My question is,” I told him, “What happens when you place a ward around an individual cell?”
Master Grant nodded, smiling slightly. Encouraged, I continued.
“I gathered information. My resources are the article called Wards to Prevent Bacteria from Passing in the May 2004 issue of Troilubus Iconetha; also we want to use spells from the book Advanced Warding Techniques; and a microscope and some samples of cells.”
Master Grant nodded. I took a deep breath, hoping that I was following the scientific method correctly.
“So for our hypothsis, we propose, well I propose—because I haven’t had a letter back from Imato, but I think he’ll agree with me on this—I/we propose that a ward around an individual cell will increase our ability to control how that cell is affected by outside forces like water, air, other cells outside the ward, and maybe other spells.”
I looked hopefully up at Master Grant. He was still smiling a little, his hands behind his back.
“That’s a very well thought out proposal,” he said finally.
“Thank you,” I said. I looked down at my much-creased piece of paper, suddenly wondering if I should have kept it nice so that I could give it to him, like I would hand in an assignment to a professor.
Master Grant looked around at the equipment in the lab.
“I’ve been trying to replicate the experiment in Troilubus Iconetha,” he informed me, “I hear that you are apprenticed to a healer. I have no magical talent. I was wondering if you would be willing to perform spells for me and we can look at the results together. When Sir Etautca returns from the war, he can join us.”
“Yes, I would like that,” I said.
“Eventually,” continued Master Grant, “we can try out your hypothesis as well.”
It was as much as I had hoped for.
“When do you want to start?” I asked.
“I should have some time in my schedule next week. What is your class schedule?”
I told him my schedule and together we settled on February 10th before my biology class. Midterms will be over by then, so I should have a little time to work on the new project. I’m so excited I can hardly wait. I like Master Grant very much.

I really should send this letter now so that you can read it. Beagan is doing very well. His family has invited Gretel and I to dine with them so that they can hear our side of the story. Although I think most of the excitement is on their side and your side.
You saved the life of the Queen of Elcaro, Keish! How does that feel?

Love,
Arri

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Keish- January 24, 2005

January 24, 2005
Dear Arri,
The king has cancelled the publication of the Gazette until further notice.  I can’t decide whether to be frustrated that we won’t learn anything more that way or relieved to not have to deal with it.
The dispatches from the Elcaran/Grestean border say that the Sand Tribes have finally joined the fight, officially throwing in their lot with the trolls.  Somehow I don’t feel at all surprised.  It seems like something I was subconsciously waiting for.  King Menion has called up Sir Aoweir’s division.  They leave tomorrow.  I don’t know if I dare tell Gretel.
Jan. 25th
I hate administering midterms under the circumstances, but we’re trying to keep classes to a normal schedule.  Perhaps I should just be grateful I’m not taking them.

Jan. 26th
Tulson’s response to Jace’s letter was uncharacteristically focused.  He’s informed his father, of course, and apparently he had a chat with Mendel, who may or may not be upset with you for not telling him more about all of this sooner.
I wish we had anything to say in response.
Midterms continue, Lady Aoweir is saying all kinds of horrible things and Caden’s at loose ends without Gazette business to attend to.  Nothing he’s hearing at social events is helpful and he’s threatening to burn the schedule I made for him.  He won’t, of course.  It’s not enough to simply be seen with every eligible young lady.  He must be seen with the right lady at the right event by the right people.
He did make up another alchemy kit, though.  Keaton was thrilled, of course, and I expect this one will keep Liop busy after the festival.

Jan. 28th
I received your letter yesterday but between divining every few hours and finishing midterms I haven’t had time to respond really.  I was hoping to respond with relevant information but as I still have none I will have to simply muddle through.
I’m sorry the parade was dreary, though I don’t imagine any improvement in weather would have improved the feeling.
I’m glad you’re staying with Gretel.  I think it’s for the best, especially with everything going on.  And I’m very glad you can intercept her mother’s letters!
Personally, I don’t care about the reasons behind Reilly’s essay.  It’s ridiculous.  An 80 is perfectly respectable, though.
Castle Renwick seems nice.  Hopefully not nice like Master Allbox, though, or Jace says he’ll be traveling to Rousha to take care of matters himself.
I can’t imagine what anyone would hope to gain by accusing Uncle W., but the original story is horrid.  I agree that if there were any truth the regular news would have gotten it first, but there’s no accounting for what people will believe.
If only we knew when Imato would return.  I’m glad Dr. Ecrue has taken an interest, but I can’t think of anything helpful along the lines of a hypothesis.  Maybe Tish would have some ideas.
It’s been too snowy, and possibly even too dangerous, for me to take Argentum out.  More’s the pity-- I should like to be knocked out of my saddle as well.

Waiting is indeed a horrible thing.

Jan. 30th
I imagine you’ll have already heard about yesterday morning, but I’m afraid if I don’t put it all down on paper it will overwhelm me.
I went to my study, as has become my habit, to do some divining.  We’ve been trying to vary the times in the hopes of catching our nefarious stranger outside the castle walls, but obviously with no results.  Yesterday I was trying late morning, but I wasn’t feeling terribly hopeful.
Jace, of course, was with me and Caden had come by, so they both watched as I began the now tiresome process.
Before my mirror could even clear I gasped.
“You found him?” Jace asked.
I shook my head.  “No, but the wards… Jace, they’re Brio!”
“What does that mean?” Caden asked.
“But they’re ancient,” Jace said at almost the same time.
I held up a hand.  “Maybe a distant Brio ancestor cast them or someone more recently modified them.  I don’t know.  When Imato returns he can study them until he passes out.  The point is-- I can get through them.”
Caden’s eyes went wide.
Jace nodded decisively.  “Okay then.”
I grinned at him, then took a deep breath and tried again, gently pushing through the wards.  “I see him,” I said softly, “but I don’t know him.”
“Describe him for me,” Jace said.
“Dark hair, white billowy clothes… wait,” I said as the image shifted abruptly.  “Court clothing-- a high-ranking servant maybe?  A badge of some sort on his arm… Does the name Bradford mean anything to you?” I asked Jace, glancing up at him briefly.
Jace had gone very pale.  “He’s the castle’s chief steward,” he whispered.
My head jerked back up so fast I almost lost my spell.  “How did a Grestean become chief steward?”
“He’s what?” Caden demanded.
“Are you sure?” Jace asked.
“Yes.”  I studied the image again, steadying my spell.
“We need to tell King Menion,” Jace said.  They both moved toward the door.
“Wait!”  (What I said next was so entirely unladylike that I won’t record it, but I think it was understandable under the circumstances.)  “He’s going to kill Queen Elspeth.”
Jace grabbed my arm.  “Keisha, are you absolutely certain?”
I nodded.  “He has a knife.  He’s going to find her.”  I dropped the spell abruptly.  “I can’t keep watching-- he’ll notice.”
Jace closed his eyes.  “Can you find the queen?”
“I can try.”
“Isn’t the Princes’ Joust today?” Caden asked softly.
Jace nodded.  “You’re right.  She’s probably already there.”
I rearranged my mirror for a scrying spell.  “Okay.”  I took a deep breath.  “I see her.  She’s sitting with Clara and the other princesses.”
“Guards?”
“On either end of the royal stands, but not actually on the platform.”  I expanded my spell for a moment then let it fade.  “We have a half hour, I think.  Certainly not much more.”
“A calling spell is the only way to warn them in time,” Jace pointed out.
I nodded.  “I’ll start with Arri.”  I closed my eyes to seek you but didn’t actually use the calling spell.  “She’s not there.  She’s with Gretel, trying to make her eat.”
“Have they made an announcement yet?” Caden asked offhandedly.
I looked at him, perplexed.  “Who?”
He reddened.  “Imato and Gretel.  With the way she acted around food at Christmas…”
I looked at Jace, who seemed as surprised as I felt.  “You mean to say Gretel is… in a delicate condition?” Jace demanded.
I sighed.  It certainly made sense.  (If she hasn’t already told you, though, I shall have to apologize for spoiling her secret.  Or Caden will.)  “We’ll have to have a conversation later as to how you of all people noticed that.”
Caden squirmed.  “Not necessary.  I spent a year with my sister, remember?  I was there for her entire… condition.”
I closed my eyes again, forcing my focus back to the matter at hand.  “Uncle W’s too far away.  Nysa too.”  I sighed.  “Who else do I try?”
“Tulson?” Caden suggested.
I shook my head.  “No magic-- he wouldn’t hear the call.”
Caden furrowed his brow.  “But you can call Jace.”
“Dormant magic and a lot of practice,” Jace said quickly.  “Long story.”
I started a scrying spell again, trying to seek anyone near the queen.  “Beagan and Corey!”  I said suddenly.  “And Mendel!”
“They’re there?” Jace asked.
I nodded.  “But I’d hate to ruin Mendel’s…. I know what to do.  Jace, where’s Imato’s letter?”
While Jace went to get it I removed everything but my mirror from the table.  He returned quickly and I scanned Imato’s letter.  “Hopefully…” I muttered, scrying again.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Captain Simon Wood was indeed at the lists.
“Is he there?” Jace asked, knowing that I needed Imato’s letter to find his friend in the royal guard.  Imato wrote that we could count on him if something happened.  A password had even been arranged for messages.
I nodded.  “I know what I have to do,” I said again, looking intently at Jace.
He didn’t look happy, but he nodded.
“Is this safe?” Caden asked, eyes darting from Jace to me and back again.
My eyes remained locked on Jace.  “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Stay here, Caden, in case I need help, but stay still,” Jace ordered, eyes not leaving mine.
I took a deep breath and gathered all the magic I could.
Have you ever tried to hold multiple spells at once over a great distance, Arri?  I don’t recommend it except in an emergency.
I resumed scrying on the queen while simultaneously calling Beagan, Corey and Mendel.  The calling spells were astonishingly effective and almost immediately all three looked startled.
“Don’t react, no one else can see me.  Just listen.  You two must have more magic than I thought for such a clear connection,” I told our cousins.  “Mendel, it would be a little easier if you could join them.”
I saw Mendel look around.  “Master Brio, Master Gray,” he called out, heading toward them.  “Better?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.  And if you need to be able to deny a magical connection you can claim they told you.  I don’t have time to explain everything though.”
“But I take it your divining was successful?” Mendel asked almost without moving his lips.
“Chief Steward Bradford is behind the stories.  He’s Grestean.”
Mendel went very still.
“And he’s on his way here to kill the queen.”
Mendel was off almost before I finished, sprinting toward the stands.
I continued following him with one spell while watching the queen, but turned most of my attention back to Corey and Beagan.
“I need you, Corey, to find Captain Simon Wood.”  I conjured an image of the man for him.  “Tell him ‘Greetings from Reynard’ and then tell him what I just told Mendel.”
Corey nodded and started off, immediately heading in the right direction.  Brynn should really visit both him and Beagan.
“Beagan, I know Imato was teaching you to spar.  I need you to watch for Bradford and slow him down until Captain Wood can take control of the situation.”
He bit his lip, but nodded.
I expanded my scrying spell again as he began looking around.  “There!”
Beagan began moving towards Bradford while looking around to check Corey and Mendel’s progress.
Mendel had, of course, reached the stands, throwing a jaunty wave to the guards and taking the stairs two at a time.  He greeted each princess warmly before turning his full attention to the queen.  Leaning forward he spoke softly so that only she, and perhaps Clara, could hear.  “Keish Pren says it’s Bradford-- and he’s threatened you.”
Queen Elspeth’s expression grew very serious and she stood, leaning on Mendel as she looked over the lists.
Corey, meanwhile, had found Captain Wood, whose face was very grim indeed as Corey delivered his message.  Imato’s password worked, though, and Corey’s veracity was not questioned.
Guards joined Mendel on the platform as chaos broke out on the other side of the field.
Beagan had, of course, reached Bradford just moments before and tried talking to him to slow his progress across the field.  Bradford was having none of it, however, and finally, in desperation, I think, Beagan threw a fairly impressive punch-- connecting with Bradford’s jaw.
Knights and squires noticed the scuffle and I saw Tulson start towards them, increasing his pace when he recognized Beagan.
Bradford was screaming at Beagan, demanding to know what he was about, punching innocent bystanders.
“Not so innocent, Grestean,” Beagan threw in his face.
Instantly Bradford’s expression changed to one of pure hatred.  His hand came up and suddenly he held a knife.
“Watch out!” I yelled, probably deafening Beagan, and Corey and Mendel in the bargain.
Beagan dodged, though and landed one more punch before Bradford plunged the knife into his arm.
Captain Wood grabbed Bradford…

And then everything went black.

I woke up to the light of only a single candle.  Jace was dozing in a chair next to the bed but was instantly alert when I groaned.
“What time is it?” I asked groggily.
“Oh, probably midnight or so.”  His voice was light, but his eyes were worried.  “After you collapsed I asked you if it had worked.  Once you confirmed it had I send Caden straight to the king and brought you straight to bed.  You’ve been asleep ever since.”
I grimaced.  “I don’t remember you asking me anything.”
Jace chuckled.  “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
I tried to push myself up to a sitting position but Jace pushed me back down gently.  He moved to the door of my dressing room and knocked briefly.
“News from Rousha yet?” I asked.
Jace shook his head as he returned to my side.  “Too soon, my dear.”  He touched my cheek.  “I was worried about you.”
“He’s been here all day, Mistress,” Malia said as she entered the room.  “Wouldn’t even leave to speak to Lord Caden.  Had Ryland speak to him instead.”
“All he had to say was that King Menion sent a message to Rousha immediately,” Jace replied to my questioning look.  “And he asked if you were alright.  I’m sure he’ll find an excuse to come back in the morning.”
Jace helped me get up so that Malia could help me out of my dress.  I turned down her offer of a tray from the kitchen and fell back to sleep almost immediately.

I’ve spent all morning writing.  Jace won’t let me do any divining, so I’ll have to hope that Beagan is fine.  I’m sure there will be some official report later today.

I hope you’re enjoying the Winter Festival and keeping Gretel healthy and safe.

Love Always,

Keish

Go to NEXT Letter

Arri- January 22, 2005

January 22, 2005
Dear Keish,

It was a cold, snowy morning and a dreary little parade. Imato kept his head high and Gretel tried to keep her eyes dry, but between the melting snowflakes and their own tears, no one managed to stay dry. The sound of the band was muffled and just a little desperate. Imato had packed Glory very carefully himself. Her packs were very full, although Imato limited himself to only two of his spell books, one about wards, and only a single change of clothing. He will probably be gone for at least four months, so how he’s going to survive with only two outfits and his suit of armor, I don’t understand. Glory’s dark heavy winter coat contrasted sharply against the fresh white snow. White was riding an army issue mule. We sang the national anthem and waved damp Elcaran flags. Imato kissed Gretel long and hard before they parted. Once the soldiers were out of sight, we hurried back to Gretel’s townhouse to dry out by the fire. Then we cracked opened the new copies of Jeanine Camino’s latest novels and tried to distract ourselves. Imato had brought them home the night before and given them to us as unexpected presents. They were supposed to be comedies, but we studied them as grimly as any gothic drama.
I am glad the Winter Festival starts in a few days. We really need the distraction.

January 23rd

Today the Prens helped me move my things to the townhouse so that I can stay with Gretel while Imato is away. It was Imato’s idea. He doesn’t like the idea of Gretel living alone. I can stay in the guest room. My commute to the university will be longer, but that’s okay, since I have Sprigs. My commute to the castle will stay about the same, although I will be approaching from a different direction.
Kestrel and Zora saw each other today for the first time since they were kittens. Liop says they remember each other, although they treated each other with great caution.
I wonder if the snow has stopped where Imato is. He’s travelling northwest. As he gets closer to the dessert, the weather should improve, although it will still be cold. Greste is not a hot dessert like they have on the southern border of Nèahm. It is actually colder than Rousha, although not by much.

January 24th

“Some of you,” said Dr. Shusterman grimly, “seem to have missed the point of our last assignment entirely. Others seem to have been under the impression that it was some kind of joke.”
We all squirmed in our seats and dropped our heads.
“I am not interested in reading any of the compelling arguments against Reilly’s essay on women in war. The essay was written 167 years ago and war practices have changed. However, you must realize that Reilly’s ideas were taken very seriously at the time they were written. The point of the assignment was to look at another person’s argument and take it seriously, no matter how much you disagree with it. No one has opinions without reasons. You must learn to pay attention to the reasons.”
He paused here to let us worry about our grades.
“I will return your papers now. Some of you will find that in order to pass this class, you must redo the assignment entirely. Those few who wrote their assignment with some serious consideration may still redo the paper for a higher grade.” He walked down the aisles passing out papers.
I took mine gingerly and glanced at the top, half afraid. Eighty percent. Well, that was okay. The student next to me groaned at the same time that I sighed my relief. We both glanced at each other.
“Pass?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Maybe I should ask you for advice,” he frowned grimly at his paper.
At that moment Dr. Shusterman began talking again and I turned my eyes to the front. He was giving us the next reading and writing assignment. This one was more to my liking. He wanted us to pick a famous work of art, read an essay someone else had written about it, and then write our own essay about it. I spent much of the lecture wondering what piece of art to choose.
At the end of class I waited until most of the students were already gone before gathering up my own things. It’s much easier than trying to avoid the rush and jostling of the young men. This time, the student next to me delayed.
“I just wanted to apologize for not introducing myself properly,” he said, “My name’s Castle Renwick.”
“Castle?” I couldn’t help asking.
He grimaced. “My mother thought it sounded aristocratic,” he explained.
“Oh,” I tried to think of something nice to say.
He shrugged.
“I’m Arri Etautca,” I held out my hand and we shook.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Etautca,” said Master Renwick.
“Likewise, Master Renwick,” I said.
We left the classroom together. Then I headed for the stables for Sprigs, so I could head over to my lessons with Master Ujifil.

I have your letter. I think the snow has been hard on Hermes and Clotho. They are huddled together on their perch near the fireplace and show no sign of concern that Zora is stalking beneath them. I think I will put her in another room and have Liop give her a lecture when he gets a chance.
That’s great that you haven’t lost any students, although the fact that two of them have lost their jobs is very sad. Hopefully, being better educated will help them to get much better jobs so that they will be glad they were laid off.
Why would someone accuse Uncle W.’s fireworks of being weapons? What exactly have they been used against. If Uncle W. were to use fireworks as weapons it would be very noticeable. The Gazette wouldn’t have to make soundless accusations. The regular news would be happy to accuse him directly.
Gretel thanks you for having Imato’s subscription to the Gazette cancelled. Gossip columns are the last things he needs to be worrying about when he’s patrolling the border with Greste. She does not want him distracted by anything, no matter how important.
Your letter did come before Lady Aoweir’s letter. I suppose what I ought to have done was say nothing about Lady Aoweir’s letter to Gretel and try to intercept it before she saw it, but unfortunately, Gretel was reading over my shoulder and saw what you said about her mother at the same time as me. Gretel says that when her mother’s letter does come, I am to throw it in the fireplace without reading it. She will only accept letters from her father from now on.
Someone in Elcaro’s castle wrote the articles in the Gazette??? Why would an Elcaran want Arellans to think badly of Elcarans? It doesn’t make any sense.  Without Imato around, I have no contact with the castle to know what they are doing. Imato still gets Rousha Today which is a respectable newspaper and we read it every morning at breakfast. Today the paper reported that seven people have turned themselves in to the police for questioning about certain incendiary articles against Elcaro in the Gazette. Gretel and I agree with Imato. The person the king is looking for isn’t going to turn himself in.
Duke Tulson is exactly the person to write. He arrived in Rousha a couple days ago and today I received an invitation from Lady Clara to come to lunch on the twenty-sixth. Gretel is going to come too. We’re excited to hear about everything Clara saw during her honeymoon in Iconei. Hopefully, she will know something about the person you are looking for in the castle. The problem is that the castle is pretty self-sustaining. The person whose identity you’re trying to find could literally stay there for weeks or months without ever needing to leave.

January 25th

“Miss Etautca, may I have a word?” I was so startled to be addressed by Dr. Ecrue that I actually looked around to see if he was really talking to me.
“Yes, of course,” I said, placing my biology book in my satchel.
I followed him back to his office. Dr. Ecrue’s office is as cluttered as a room can possibly be. To reach his desk, he led me through a narrow maze of piles of papers and magazines, many in Iconese. Jars containing specimens balanced in precarious pyramids in the corners of the room. Stacks of papers higher than my head leaned against each other on the large walnut desk.  Dr. Ecrue removed a box of bones from one chair and a taxidermy turtle from another. Then we sat.
“Do you have a class this hour?” he asked. I said that I had Anatomy next.
“I will write you a note of excuse,” he said and did so immediately. Oddly enough, he had no difficulty finding pen, ink, or paper in the hopeless clutter that surrounded him.
I thanked him and pocketed the note, my curiosity growing.
“Miss Etautca,” said Dr. Ecrue, “It has been brought to my attention that you and…” he frowned, “a knight… are interested in borrowing the universities microscopes for investigations of casting wards on cells.”
“Yes,” I said, “my brother, Sir Imato Etautca.”
“To that effect,” Dr. Ecrue continued, “I am wondering what experiments you would like to conduct.”
He looked at me expectantly.
“We want to place wards around individual cells,” I said.
“Intriguing,” said Dr. Ecrue.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that response.
“What is the hypothesis you wish to test?” he asked.
Imato and I hadn’t really discussed our ideas as a hypothesis.
“I’m not sure we have a hypothesis,” I said finally, “We want to ward a cell and see what happens.”
Dr. Ecrue was silent. I wasn’t sure if he expected me to say more, or if he didn’t know what to say himself.
“I have another student, Emil Grant, a master’s student, who is also interested in this thing. I will refer you to him,” Dr. Ecrue said, “To perform an experiment, you must first have a hypothesis. When can I meet with your brother?”
My head dropped.
“He was called up to active duty,” I said, “He’s gone to the border with Greste.”
Dr. Ecrue removed his knit hat. “This is inconvenient,” he said, “you will have to use correspondence. I will put you in touch with Master Grant. You will not need the equipment until you have a hypothesis and your brother returns from war. Do you know when he is expected back?”
I blinked in surprise. “No,” I said.
“Please inform me when you know his exact schedule,” said Dr. Ecrue seriously. He turned the hat inside-out and restored it to his head.
“I will as soon as possible,” I said softly.

The Winter Festival started today. Liop is out of school, but I’m not. I have to miss the first two days of the festival for classes. It doesn’t seem fair, but Winter Term is the shortest of the school year and the professors always feel stressed trying to make sure that they cover the same about of material with one less week of lectures. Gretel says after school lets out we are going “shopping with a vengeance”. After the first day of Imato being gone, she buried herself in her quilting, trying to stay too busy to worry. She didn’t really succeed and she sleeps no better than Mother did when Father was gone.
I wish I could take Sprigs for a good long ride. Actually, I wish I could borrow Redhawk from Mendel and nearly get knocked off of my saddle with speed. However, it’s snowing again, so I can’t do either. I hope it clears up soon. The festival won’t be nearly as much fun if they have to cart snow out of the city every morning.
I will let you know everything I find out when I have lunch with Lady Clara. I don’t know if she will really know anything more yet, but I’m sure she’ll keep us posted. In fact, she would probably have sent me word already if Duke Tulson had found out anything new yet. Waiting is a horrible thing.
I hope everything is going well with you and the schools. Be careful and keep Imato’s wards activated.

Love,
Arri

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Keish- January 20, 2005

January 20, 2005
Dear Arri,
Words cannot express what a strain it has been this week to carry on as if everything were perfectly normal.  Thank heavens we had already made tomorrow a study day-- I’m not sure I could handle teaching.
We’ve explained the situation to our students as best we could.  I’m proud to say we’ve not lost a single one.  In fact, the boys have begun escorting the girls to classes as much as they can.
Sadly, however, two of our students have lost their positions as a result of all this.
One is the footman who worked for the Viteris.  We made it clear that we will find positions for anyone turned off for attending school, so he came straight to us.  He’s been sworn to secrecy (as have all of our servants, of course) about Caden’s comings and goings and when Caden showed up this afternoon he promptly made Alexander his valet/assistant.  Alexander will continue to stay with us, of course, but he is certainly pleased with the arrangement.
(Caden of course already had a valet, but the man is technically in the employ of his parents, so Caden doesn’t feel easy with him.  Especially now.)
We have had a couple of minor incidents.  Nothing serious, but Imato will be pleased to hear that his wards have been very useful.  Especially on Jace’s training yard.  Today I actually activated the personal wards on both of us as well.  Just in case.
Caden was able to get an original manuscript but because he has to be so careful about coming we had to wait until late this afternoon.
He arrived looking grim, carrying the printed Gazette as well since we’ve stopped receiving it.  I reached for it, but he held it away.  “There’s something you both need to know first.  King Trunsle called up the 14th Division yesterday.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Imato,” I heard Jace say in a soft, pained voice.
Caden nodded.  “They leave Saturday.”
I had to sit down.
Jace read the Gazette while I read the original manuscript.  It was awful, of course.
“Why couldn’t they leave Uncle W. alone?” I asked angrily.
“I don’t know,” Caden said quietly, “but it didn’t show up in the FlyBy at least.  And I was able to adjust it a little before final printing.”
Jace and I looked at him then quickly traded.  It was still bad, but at least what was actually printed didn’t directly accuse Uncle W. of using his fireworks as weapons.
We were already in my study, so I took the original manuscript and the blank pages and started setting things up.
Caden cleared his throat.  “Do you want me to make sure Imato receives today’s Gazette before he leaves?”
“No,” I replied quickly.  “In fact, I’d like you to make sure his subscription is cancelled if you can.  Or at least send it to Uncle Winthrop instead.”
Jace nodded in agreement.  “If it’s forwarded it will just distract him and if it’s not…”
“It will just upset Lady Gretel,” Caden finished.  “Done.  Speaking of Lady Gretel…” he trailed off nervously.
“Out with it,” Jace ordered.
“Lady Aoweir was over for tea with my mother today.’
“My condolences,” I said without looking up as I rearranged the papers in front of me.
“Yes, well.  I happened to overhear her mention that she was going to write a stern letter explaining to her daughter that there is not shame in leaving a husband who…”
I cut him off with a growl.  “Enough.  I’m quite capable of imagining Lady Aoweir’s remarks.  I’ll mention it to Arri.  Hopefully my letter gets there first, since I’m sure Lady Aoweir will make sure Sir Aoweir doesn’t remove it from the post.”  I sighed, leaning against the table.  “I imagine it’s only a matter of time before Keaton’s parents get similar ideas.”
“Actually, I may have caused an accidental suspension of their subscription.”
“Really?” Jace asked, amused.
Caden nodded somewhat sheepishly.  “I didn’t think you needed more stress.  With the weather deliveries can be less than reliable this time of year anyway.”
“Thank you,” Jace said sincerely.
I was frowning at the table.  “Well that’s not going to work.”
Caden looked panicked.  “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” I replied.  “We’ll just have to deal with things one at a time.  You took both old and new paper?”
“Oh yes.  I forgot to mention that.”
I nodded absently, running my fingers lightly over the blank sheets.  I could tell the difference-- the simpler enchantment on the older sheet with the much stronger spell on the newer.
“I wonder…” I murmured, rearranging yet again.  This time I removed the manuscript and put the blank sheets on either side of my mirror.
First I very carefully checked the enchantments on the newer paper. While not quite as bad as those on the FlyBy I was still going to have to be very very careful.
I said as much and the worry line between Jace’s eyes grew deeper.
“It’s okay.  A comparative spell is more complicated, but ultimately safer,” I explained.  “I’m ready.”
I slowed my breathing and slowly brought a hand over each paper.  I closed my eyes.
“Are you sure you should let her do this?” I heard Caden whisper to Jace.
“Quiet please,” I said, trying to slow my heart and clear my mind.
“Jace, this isn’t a good idea.”
“Quiet,” I said more sharply.
“What if it’s like…”
“Jace!”
My eyes were still closed but I heard Jace grab Caden and put a hand over his mouth.
When I felt centered and focused I opened my eyes and looked deep into my mirror.
“Not the same person.  Part of the deal in printing the stories to begin with was paper with a better enchantment…”  My eyes narrowed.  “Lord Schieving?” I asked, looking at Caden and Jace in surprise.
“He has magic?” Jace asked in surprise.
“No, she meant he runs the Gazette,” Caden answered.
Jace shook his head.  “That puts that awful dinner party in an entirely different light, doesn’t it?”
Caden gave him a crooked grin.  “He was hoping for a good story.  Instead you left him embarrassed, speechless and in more than a little trouble with Lady Schieving.”
“At first the stories probably looked harmless.  Maybe the manuscripts were even enchanted to make them seem so.  Then eventually Schieving was in too deep.”  I stared into the mirror, focusing on just the newer paper (very carefully).  “I can’t tell who it is, but I think whoever enchanted the paper is also writing the stories.”
I pulled away from the blank sheets carefully.  “Jace, would you remove those for me?  I’m not sure I dare actually touch them.”
“Can I burn them?” he asked.
“Probably shouldn’t just yet.  We may need them again.  When this is all over, though, I think a bonfire is in order.”
Caden nodded.
I brought the manuscript back out and placed it on my mirror, slightly off-center.  I quickly searched for dangerous spells.  Finding nothing concerning, I took a deep breath and blew onto my mirror, fogging the surface.
As it cleared, I watched closely.
The image was very fuzzy.  Frowning, I tried harder, putting more magic into the spell.  I had leaned forward so far my nose was nearly touching my mirror, but the image didn’t get any clearer.
I made one final attempt, pushing even more magic into the spell…
And was thrown backwards into my chair for my troubles.
Jace must have moved behind me at some point because he caught the chair when it tipped.  “Okay, love?”
I nodded, eyes closed.
“Are you sure?” Caden asked, concerned.
I opened my eyes a slit.  “What did you think the pillows were for?”
“What happened?” Jace asked.  “The paper?”
I shook my head slowly.  “Wards,” I said, “but different wards.  I didn’t recognize them.  Certainly not the same person.”
Jace looked thoughtful.  “Then it would have to be…”
I nodded.
“Would have to be what?” Caden asked, exasperated.
“A protected location of some sort.  The wards aren’t new, so it’s possibly coincidental, but I’m not going to find anything out while he, or she, is there.”
“So we have nothing.”
Jace shook his head.  “No, actually.  We know that this will work as soon as whoever it is leaves.  It was the wards that affected the divination, not the person.  I’d say that’s pretty good news.”
Caden looked confused still, but didn’t pursue it once he realized what time it was.  “The opera,” he muttered.  “With whichever Melchoir I invited.”
“You don’t remember?” Jace asked.
He sighed heavily.  “They’re practically interchangeable.”  He looked at me.  “You realize this is the last event on that schedule you gave me.”
I shrugged.  “Bring me all the notes you’ve supposedly been taking and I’ll draw up a new one.”
Caden nodded and turned to leave.  “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I rolled my eyes and Jace chuckled.  “She’s fine.  Trust me, she’s had much worse results.”
I chose to ignore that.  “I’ll try again later and I’ll keep trying until it works.”
Caden nodded again and left.
Jace pulled me up and into his arms to reassure himself that I was okay.  Once I’d convinced him I was indeed fine, we enjoyed a lively dinner with Keaton, who told us all about what happens to eggs that have been left in vinegar for a completely ridiculous amount of time.
And then he showed us the large purple dragon on his arm.  Apparently he found my other copy of the book of personal transfigurations.  He was disappointed, actually.  The spell was supposed to make purple dragons appear all over one’s body, but personally I was impressed he’d managed it at all.  After dinner he went off to write to tell Liop all about it.  I decided not to confiscate the book quite yet.
After dinner I tried divining the writer of the manuscript again, but the wards were still in full effect, so I gave up and started writing.  I’ll try again tomorrow.

Jan. 21st
Still nothing.
Whoever this person is, they have to leave the warded location eventually, right?
Caden sent his notes to me by way of a convoluted series of messengers that he has set up.  I made up another schedule and sent it back through the same system.
Jace and I graded assignments while Chewy attacked a poor defenseless boot that Malia found for him.  Keaton spent the morning pestering Master Zart until he gave in and the two of them went to visit Tish.
If it weren’t for the divining periodically and the shadow hanging over us, it would have been a wonderful day.

Jan. 22nd
I have your letter.  Are you at the parade?  I suppose you are.  I don’t see anything celebratory about seeing Imato off, but I understand the reasoning.
I wish I’d thought of a way to warn King Trunsle’s magicians.  King Menion hasn’t kept one at court in years and since I have been involved he didn’t see a reason to call for any of the magicians he consults.  I’m glad Master Ujifil is tending to them.
I suppose Imato’s experiments will have to be put on hold.  It’s unlikely he’ll have any proper equipment at the border.  Just as well, I suppose, though I do hope he’s taking the book of wards with him.
Looking at cells almost sounds like divining-- sometimes the problem is looking so closely everything is a blur.

Later
Caden’s unexpected arrival interrupted my writing.  I told him and Jace about your essay assignment.
“Why is that such a popular selection?” Caden asked.  “It’s not even well-written.”
Jace laughed.  “Queen Elspeth forbade palace tutors from using it years ago.”
“I read the first page and then burned it,” I said with a shrug.
Caden’s eyes widened.  “I’ll bet Master Nedhor had a fit!  I’m surprised he gave you passing marks!”
I smiled.  “He had to.  I wrote a ten page rebuttal that not only refuted Reilly’s premise but also detailed how it was demeaning to my intelligence to insist I read it.  It was well-written enough he had to pass me.”
Caden laughed.  “He’s the one who got me started on the Gazette, you know.  I’m surprised he didn’t ask you as well.”
“I think I frightened him.”
Jace laughed.  “More than likely.  I agree with Arri, though-- no taking your best dress to a battle.”

Caden is very pleased that Liop loved the kit as much as Keaton did.  I think he’s planning to make up another later in the week.
Personally I am very glad Uncle W. is going to approve Liop’s ideas.  The alternative is terrifying.
Caden has ensured that Imato will not be receiving the Gazette, so there’s one less distraction at any rate.
I told Jace and Caden about King Trunsle’s orders.
Jace shrugged.  “If they’re as in the dark about all of this as we are here it might not help.”
“My uncle told me this morning he was going to issue the same orders,” Caden said quietly.
“What did you say?” Jace asked.
“I told him he might as well start with me then.  He was surprised, but not as much as I thought he’d be.  He insisted I give him a list of everyone involved.”  Caden looked uncomfortable with that.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Jace told him.  “This way King Menion can make more discreet inquiries.”
“And he promised to keep my involvement secret.”
“There, see.  Better than blanket orders probably, anyway, right?”
I was reading your letter still and interrupted them.  “Jace, what do you know about the wards on the castle?”
“Mostly just that they’re ancient.  Why?” Jace asked.  “What are you thinking?”
Instead of answering I went to my study.  Jace and Caden followed, finding me already divining.
I tried the spell again, but this time I focused on the wards-- on the resistance-- and I gasped.
“Keisha?” Jace asked softly.  “Are the wards ancient?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
Caden looked startled.  “But wouldn’t that mean…”
“Whoever this is… is in the castle,” I whispered.
We just looked at each other in stunned silence for several minutes.
“We have to inform King Trunsle,” Caden said insistently.
Jace was more cautious.  “We don’t know enough.  An official dispatch may cause more harm than good.  We need to be very careful about sending anything directly to the castle until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“I hate to say it,” I put in, “but I think we need Tulson.”
Jace nodded slowly.  “He’ll be in Rousha for the Winter Festival, but not at the castle.  A letter to him is less of a risk and he can take the information directly to his father.”
Caden agreed reluctantly.  “Let’s just hope he’s not as worthless as Euan,” he muttered as he left to give what little information we had to King Menion, as well as inform him that we’d write to Tulson.
Jace wrote to Tulson and we sent it by a palace passenger pigeon, so he should have it when you receive this, but I’ll end now so that I can send Hermes back to you.
I’ll keep trying the divination.  Eventually he or she has to leave the castle.

Love Always,

Keish

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