A vellum tome lay open before Maura on the table, where she was taking notes. In the middle of the table was another map in a raised box. This one she recognized as the Rocky Mountain fae territory, where House Rowan’s lands resided. It was a topographical map, with mountain peaks and placid lakes part of the landscape. A black border delineated the space at the outside of the territory, and dotted, colorful lines within the territory marked the borders of four different house lands. One paved road ran adjacent to the east of the area, north to south, and was the only route connecting them to the human cities beyond.
Everything here felt antiquated and old-fashioned. Becka wondered if they’d considered adding a whiteboard for posting the daily agenda.
Could I get one delivered?
Becka also recognized Calder and Astrid but couldn’t remember the names of the other three council members. Seeing Calder there made the pastries she’d eaten that morning sit heavily in her stomach, but she forced herself to smile at him.
“Now that everyone is here, let’s begin,” Maura said. She reached over and patted the chair to her left, and Becka didn’t hesitate. “Becka, this is now your seat and I’d like Hanna Hawthorne to sit next to you. Hanna is here at my request to serve as Becka’s political advisor. Calder, can you please move down?”
His cheeks flamed and his gaze narrowed at Becka, but Calder did as he was told.
Astrid took the seat to Maura’s right. The other three sat in the seats across from them.
“Everyone, I’m sure you know Becka,” Maura said. “Becka, I know you’re familiar with Calder and Lady Astrid. In case you’re not aware, to his left is Lord Cedric, Elder Eirian, and then Lady Wynne. All are illusionists, the best in the guild. Duke Vott’s chair is held open until his safe return.”
“Forgive my question if this isn’t appropriate, but I’d like to understand. As Vott isn’t an illusionist, his place in the council is by rank?” Becka asked.
Lord Cedric leaned forward, elbows on the table, and spoke. “You should always ask for clarification when needed. We reserve a place in the council for the duchess’s partner and for the heir apparent.”
“Thank you for your inclusion,” she replied, feeling a slight flush hit her cheeks. So it wasn’t just Maura’s insisting she attend the council to give Becka some busywork; the heir’s presence was customary. Which Becka would’ve likely known, had she asked before now.
“It is our custom,” he said. “But, Duchess, we must discuss your son’s continuing inclusion. As he is no longer your eldest guilded child, his seat is forfeit.”
“This is an unusual circumstance, so we will vote upon his continuing status,” Maura replied. “Are there any other perspectives we should consider?”
The council members shifted in their seats, each looking to Calder, as if weighing him in their minds. In return, Calder glowered at Becka, obviously blaming her for his precarious position.
Seeking a path to move forward, not just with Maura, but with all of her family—grouchy brother and all—Becka considered her next step. She felt no fondness towards Calder, but he wasn’t going anywhere, either. If she could improve their dynamic, perhaps she’d dislike being around him less.
“If I may? My return is an exceptional occurrence, with my further delay in being declared guilded a part of that equation. In the past few months, Calder has been privy to the council business. Have there been any issues?”
“No, not at all,” Aunt Astrid replied.
“Are there other common reasons for removing council members?” she asked.
“We only remove members when they can no longer perform their duties,” replied Lady Wynne.
“In that case, I move Calder remains, unless you consider him unfit for duty?”
Calder’s brows shot up, and he regarded her afresh, surprise and confusion warring on his features.
“I second the motion,” Maura said, a pleased look on her face. “All agreed?” Everyone raised their hands. “Calder remains on the council. Next item of business?”
Hanna shot Becka a toothy smile, reaffirming to her that lobbying to keep Calder on the council was definitely the right move.
“As you’re new here, Becka, I’d like to clarify the role of this council,” Maura said. “We oversee all who live within House Rowan territories, as well as all members of the Illusionists Guild, whether they live here, in another house’s territory, or are on assignment within the cities.”
She thought of her engagement, and how House Hawthorne wasn’t within the local Rocky Mountain fae territory but instead hailed from the Newfoundland fae territory. “Who’s in charge if there’s an altercation between houses or guilds?” Becka asked, because it was worth knowing who might mediate any potential disputes between them.
“Both parties pick a mutually agreed upon third entity to mediate,” Maura replied.
“That sounds straightforward,” Becka muttered.
“It almost never is,” replied Lord Cedric with a wry smile. He turned to Maura. “Has Becka been brought up to speed on the current state of our territory?”
Maura shook her head and waved him on. “Keep it succinct.”
He rose and picked up a wooden pointer. “The Rocky Mountain fae territory encompasses approximately forty-five thousand acres and nearly six thousand fae. As I’m sure you recall, four houses share this territory. Rowan,” he tapped on the space to the upper left, “Birch,” he tapped on the upper right zone, “and then Apple and Pine,” he said, tapping on the two smaller, lower sections. “What you may not know is that House Apple suffered a great loss a few years ago and is now a protectorate under House Rowan.”
The boundaries of the four houses reminded Becka of the ventricles of the heart. “What happened?”
“A group of humans managed to infiltrate Apple’s border undetected and attacked their central manor. The fae living there were shot, artifacts were stolen, and the manor and outlying buildings burned to the ground. Their loss was a great tragedy for all fae, and the remaining members of the house have not yet recovered. Since the tragedy, House Rowan has overseen the day-to-day elements of trade for the area and the remaining patronage. The territory has rallied and rebuilt their structures, but no one can replace the lost lives or history that was destroyed.”
“That’s horrid. They’re pacifists.” Becka’s heart ached for the people of House Apple. She’d played down by the river with children from their house when she was young, remembering them as an easygoing and kind house. Angst and rage gripped her ribcage, making drawing her next breath painful. The humans couldn’t have picked a less aggressive house to attack. “Were the humans found and punished?”
Sorrow filled Cedric’s features. “Oh, certainly. They were caught by enforcers soon after the attack and jailed for a year. Some of the stolen artifacts were recovered, but even those were damaged.”
“That’s nowhere near adequate,” Becka replied. “But having lived in the city, I’ve seen how normalized aggression towards the fae is. It’s as if some humans think the Great War never ended.”
As much as she’d liked her freedom in the city, Becka couldn’t deny that most days she’d felt measurably safer here in fae territory. Like she had a chance against the threat of the Shadow-Dwellers. At least, that’s how she’d felt before the poisoning.
“As you say,” Cedric replied. “All houses within the fae territories have taken this as a warning. It’s why we keep such a large contingent of our own trained guards and no longer rely on the enforcers, who are stationed within the cities. We must police our property and protect it from threats rather than waiting for help to arrive from afar. As House Rowan is the largest of the four houses within our territory, we oversee and coordinate activities for the protection of all.”
So it wasn’t just Becka’s imagination. There were indeed more guards than she’d remembered in her youth.
“What do you do with trespassers?” Becka asked.
Cedric shook his head.
“We use reasonable force to catch them and then lock them in a holding cell. The enforcers are quick to pick them up, which doesn’t usually take long. But we do not expect the culprits to get punished for their crimes. All we can do is remove them and hope they do not come back.”
“Let’s refocus on the tasks before us today.” Astrid thunked a heavy tome down upon the table and opened it, the spine cracking with age. “We have another youth whose illusionist skills have been unremarkable. Her name is Iona, daughter of Tove.”
“I know the girl,” Maura replied. “Are you certain her gift won’t progress further?”
Hearing Iona referred to so dispassionately hit a little too close to home for Becka. Was it just Maura’s way of managing bad news, or did she not care for the girl if she wasn’t gifted?
“She’s been steady for the past year, and if something changes we can always reassess, but she’s nearing the age of civic duty.”
Everyone nodded, and Becka assumed this was a familiar conversation. She knew gifts came in the full range from none, to not much, to ‘oh my goodness put a lid on it’. Having once been declared ungifted, Becka would have given anything to have had just a whisper of power versus being an outcast. However, she doubted young Iona felt grateful for her diminished gift.
“What civic act can she perform, considering her depth of talent?” asked Elder Eirian.
Once their guild training had completed, all fae were required to perform three years of community service in the cities as an act of subservience and acceptance of human rule. Becka knew some students had passed and become guilded with just barely a passing grade, and yet they were still expected to serve in whatever capacity they were able. What wasn’t discussed was the additional human prejudice they’d be subjected to in the cities for being low performers. Becka had seen for herself how humans considered fae useless if they didn’t have gifts to be used for their greater, or personal, good.
“Well, the arts and beautification district won’t want her. They’ve requested only the most skilled of artisans,” Astrid replied.
“A better question is, what serves House Rowan best?” said Calder.
Becka’s emotional feathers ruffled again, not just at the perfunctory nature of the conversation but at Calder’s profit-focused question. Were they always this callous?
“May I suggest we send Iona to serve with the transport and infrastructure sector?” said Cedric with a sly smile on his face.
“What would that gain us?” asked Becka. “And what would it gain Iona?”
Cedric held up a single finger. “Iona would learn the current patching and repair techniques used on roads, bridges, and other projects. The Civic Board has a call out to House Oak for earth elementalists who can move and repair large objects, but I would guess they need help to visually improve where repairs have occurred. From a distance, slight imperfections within an illusion wouldn’t be as noticeable. Iona is skilled enough to perform that level of illusion, and she’s clever enough to take detailed notes on how they are repairing their infrastructure and what types of weaknesses are surfacing within the city’s systems. What think you, Astrid? Would she be up to it?”
Becka’s internal radar pinged. Lord Cedric was suggesting espionage!
Astrid wobbled her head from side to side. “Iona has sufficient skill to blend colors and hide repairs, which would save the humans time and materials, and the magic will last for the life of the structure. Plus, she has a quick wit to learn more than they might guess. It’s a fair suggestion.”
“I’d like you to discuss this with both Tove and Iona,” said Maura. “I want to make sure they are receptive. You’re right, Eirian, this could be a good opportunity. Even though Iona’s skills aren’t great, this gives her an opportunity to contribute to the house as she is able.” She turned to Becka. “What are your thoughts, daughter?”
Becka tapped a gloved finger against her nose, debating with herself. How direct should she be with her concerns? Maura raised a brow, and Becka pushed forward. Subtlety had never been her strong suit.
“Let me make sure I’m understanding the potential. It makes sense for Iona to serve her allotted time with the Civic Board in a relatively low-impact capacity. If she learns anything pertinent to systemic infrastructure weaknesses, what would House Rowan do with that information?”
The other members of the council exchanged glances, but it was Calder who answered her.
“First, we share our learning with the other houses. Second, we consider how such information could be used defensively, if ever there was cause.”
“Do you mean we track weaknesses in human city infrastructure for potential later exploitation?” Becka asked. Hanna nudged her foot, but Becka needed to understand what was being proposed. Any information gathered with a “defensive” mindset could cross the legal threshold into an act of war.
“Yes, that is what we mean. But we’d only use that knowledge defensively, of course,” Calder replied.
“Of course… But doesn’t that border on the legal edge of sedition against humans?” Becka asked, needing to make sure she understood.
Calder shrugged. “Which is why we do it as a purely defensive gesture.”
“Okay,” Becka replied, and then took a moment to process what she’d heard. Plotting against humans, or raising arms against them, directly violated the treaty. Having lived within the cities for the past several years, Becka didn’t want to think about fighting against her fellow students and library lovers. But she could imagine needing to defend their territory, especially given the attack against House Apple. It never hurt to be prepared. Did it?
“I suppose it never hurts to build one’s defenses,” she replied, knowing full well that wasn’t the case. She’d read the history books. She knew arms races inevitably led to wars. Preparing against looked a lot like preparing for, and then it was just too tempting to have a tool and use it when things got heated.
Anxiety and disappointment clenched her gut. This conversation did not feel like a path forward between the fae and human races. Becka had a lot of work ahead of her.
Lord Cedric openly frowned at her. Becka felt like she’d crossed the line with her question about sedition.
“We must do what we can, where reasonable,” Astrid said.
Becka nodded, stupefied. She sat at this table, sharing in the decisions. She’d only been back three months, but she’d paid attention. Did they think she bought their story of using information only for defense of the house? She wasn’t ready to rock this boat, so she withheld her questions. For now.
Lord Cedric cleared his throat. “Have we heard from House Ash on our engagement proposal for Lady Sigfrid?”
Maura nodded. “Yes, a firm denial. They have eligible males of her age but remain offended we offered our heir to House Hawthorne instead. They suggested we look towards House Oak.”
“I doubt we will see peace between the House of Thorns and the House of Time within our lifetime,” replied Lady Wynne. “But they are correct in that House Oak has some suitable prospects, although not as highly ranked. I can speak with my cousin-in-law who lives there, to see how receptive they might be?”
“They aren’t my favorite at the moment,” Maura replied with a swift glance to Becka. Was she miffed at all of House Oak because of Quinn’s presence? “But reach out to your cousin. And let’s do our best to not ruffle any more feathers along the way?”
“As you say,” replied Lady Wynne, her chin bobbing.
“Becka,” Maura turned to her, “remind me to walk you through the present state of the fae-touched political landscape sometime soon. The last thing we need is an incident because you’re not up to date with current affairs.”
“Sounds scintillating.” Becka figured she might need an entire bottle of hot sauce just to make it through that lecture. But she could take notes. Lots of notes.
“More so than you might imagine,” Maura replied.
The conversation moved on without her, wh
ile she was occupied within silent contemplation. She couldn’t blame her house for acting to defend themselves, but did they ever cross the line? Becka was certain humans would consider the act they’d discussed crossing the line.
Humans had eliminated houses for failing to bend the knee to human oversight. In the cities, she’d heard tales firsthand of how the humans had clawed back their lands and bent the fae to their will. If House Rowan wasn’t careful, they’d be sanctioned. But perhaps Becka could think of palatable excuses to use should the humans ask questions.
Becka’s stomach churned and flipped. Life in the city as an ungifted had been so much less complicated.
The council discussed a few more generic matters, such as a seed swap for winter crops with the nearby House Vine. House Vine had varieties of squash that House Rowan’s head gardener had deemed might do well in the local climate. Despite having slept all night, Becka was having a difficult time paying attention to each of the votes. She did her best, but there was a level of fatigue she couldn’t quite shake off.
After about an hour had passed, Maura placed her hands on the table and rose. “That’s enough for today. Until midweek?”
Becka rose with the others, but instead of staying around to chat, she exited the room and came face to face with an expectant Brent.
Chapter 11
“Lady Becka, would now be a good time to review this week’s roster?” Brent asked.
Astrid and Calder had also emerged from the council chambers and stood behind her, listening to the exchange. Calder’s paramour, Alvilda, came sauntering down the hall, her attention trained on him. In turn, he greeted her arrival with a wide smile. Astrid frowned at the two of them and then went the other way.
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