The Alcazar

by Amy Ewing

  “Leo McLellan,” she said, and Leo felt a shock run through him.

  “No,” Vada protested weakly. “He’s a Byrne, he—”

  “Oh, he’s a Byrne all right,” the woman said. “Those eyes, the nose, the chin . . . my god, he even has her hair, if not the same color.” She cocked her head. “But this Byrne was not raised on the estates of Culinnon or in the majestic streets of Ithilia.”

  “I . . .” Leo didn’t know what to say and from the looks of it, neither did Vada.

  The woman smiled and extended a hand to him. “My name is Phebe Ofairn. I believe you know my brother, Eneas.”

  3

  Agnes

  THE SUN WAS SETTING, AND LEO AND VADA STILL WEREN’T back.

  Agnes paced the length of the captain’s cabin as Sera stared out the porthole window over the bed, fascinated by the sights and sounds of Arbaz.

  What was taking the two of them so long? Agnes fingered the letter in her pocket, the one her grandmother had sent her. She kept it on her at all times, right next to the photograph of her mother. They were touchstones reminding her of who she was and of her purpose. She took the letter out now and read it for the millionth time.

  My dearest Agnes,

  I hope this letter reaches you. I have friends at the University of Ithilia and received surprising (and welcome) news. Come find me when you arrive. I will say no more here except that I have longed to meet you.

  Your loving grandmother,

  Ambrosine Byrne

  The date for Agnes’s interview with the Academy of Sciences was already set and mere days away. Agnes didn’t want to miss it—she couldn’t miss it; she had been waiting her whole life for this opportunity. But Sera needed to get home. Agnes felt terrible asking her friend if they could delay the journey even for just a day.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Sera’s voice made her jump. Agnes quickly put the letter back in her pocket.

  “I was just worrying about Leo,” she lied.

  “No you weren’t. You are thinking about that school, the one you are hoping to attend. You have an interview there soon, don’t you?”

  Agnes was confused and surprised—she had barely spoken about the university, as if that would make real the possibility of failure.

  Sera smiled. “Leo is more impressed by you than he lets on.”

  Agnes felt her cheeks grow hot. “It’s not important,” she said. “The main thing is to get you to Braxos.”

  “Agnes.” Sera stood and took both of Agnes’s hands in her soft silver ones. “This journey was never only about me. We are all changing, making new paths in our lives, me and you and Leo. You are my friend. I would never want you to miss an opportunity because of me. We will go to Ithilia and you will interview at this school and then we will continue on to Braxos. I would never forgive myself if you lost this chance. I would never want you to resent me after . . . after I’m gone.”

  Agnes felt like a thorn was stuck in her throat. She wanted Sera to return to her people, but she was going to miss her desperately. She’d never really had a true friend before. She had Vada now, but Vada was something else—Vada was need and want, Vada was in her dreams at night and on the tip of her tongue in the morning. Vada was all sorts of things that Agnes had never felt before.

  “You are the best friend I’ve ever had,” Agnes said. “I’m so glad I met you. Well, I’m not glad that my brother caught you with a net launcher and my father locked you up in a crate, but . . .”

  Sera laughed. “How strange the way this all began. But you were always kind to me, right from the start. You made me believe that not every human was evil.”

  “Chalk one up for humanity—we aren’t all bad.”

  “Those Misarros were awfully frightening,” Sera said with a shudder. “I fear it may be even more difficult to get to Braxos now than we had thought.”

  “But you said Errol knows the way,” Agnes pointed out. “So we have an advantage over everyone else.”

  Sera nodded. “I wish he could tell us how far it is, how long it will take to get there. But he speaks in terms of swims and shoals. I don’t think he understands distance like we do.”

  Agnes collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Sera sat down beside her.

  “I felt so confident back in Kaolin,” Agnes said. “Focused. Like I knew what I was doing. Now we’ve made it to Pelago and I feel like I never understood just how big the world is.”

  “Me neither,” Sera said. “I had only ever seen the City Above the Sky until I fell. But there is so much more in the universe.” She sighed. “I always wanted to see this planet. And then I got my wish, but not in the way I thought.”

  “Do you really think the tether will help you get home?” Agnes asked.

  “Yes,” Sera said, and Agnes looked up to see stark determination on her face. “It is the link between my City and this planet. It must be the way home. In days of old, Cerulean would always travel to the planets they were tethered to. They had to have a way to get back somehow.” She turned to look out the porthole. “The closer we came to this country, the more I could feel my magic getting stronger, multiplying and bursting in my veins.” Suddenly, she gasped. “They’re back!”

  She and Agnes scrambled off the bunk and opened the door, running to the hatch as footsteps echoed overhead. Then it was thrown upward, revealing a square patch of sunset-colored sky and Vada’s face.

  “Well,” she said. “That was an interesting shopping trip, to say the least. Here, catch.”

  She dropped several parcels, wrapped in soft, colorful paper and tied with twine. Agnes caught one wrapped in blue that felt sturdier than the green one that followed. Leo had to pass his packages down carefully—he had quite a stack of them, boxes tied with green ribbons in addition to paper-wrapped clothes. The fanciest one by far was for Sera, wrapped in gold foil with a stamp on it featuring a swan with three stars over its head.

  “I will be helping you into this,” Vada said to Sera as she and Leo climbed down into the hold. “There are many buttons.” She turned to Agnes. “You and your brother go change, quickly. We don’t want to be late for dinner, and I am not liking the thought of walking the market after dark.”

  She gave Leo a push and shuffled Sera down to the captain’s cabin.

  “Dinner?” Agnes asked. “Where are we going for dinner? What happened in the market?” She followed Leo to his room, which wasn’t a cabin so much as an unused storage room. There was a dusty bench with a blanket and pillow, and a couple of empty shelves built into the walls.

  “I’ll explain once we’re changed,” Leo said as they turned away from each other.

  Agnes unwrapped the sturdy package and gave a cry of delight. “Vada got me pants!” she exclaimed.

  Leo snorted. “I got you pants. I figured you’d want them.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “They should fit better than your old lab attire.”

  She bit back a retort and began to undress. She was still unused to being grateful to her brother.

  The pants were navy-blue wool and fit as if they had been tailored just for her. Her new shirt was linen with long cuffed sleeves, and a third package held a vest of dark red suede, similar in cut to the black one Vada wore but much finer. There were boots of supple leather and a small headband with an arrangement of scallop shells on one side. By the time Agnes was fully dressed, she wanted to cry.

  She had never felt so comfortable or so much like herself—at least, the self she had always wanted to be. In these clothes, it was as if she had peeled off a layer of Kaolin and left it behind.

  “Oh, Leo,” she said, unable to find one snarky thing to say in this moment. “It’s perfect.”

  “I had to guess your size,” he said. “I’ve only ever picked out dresses for you.”

  “Are you done yet?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m ready,” he said, and he sounded nervous. “Just . . . promise me you won’t laugh, okay?”

 
; “Why would I laugh?” She turned at the same time he did, and her mouth fell open.

  “Leo,” was all she could bring herself to say.

  Her brother had always cut a dashing figure in his suits and tuxedos, but to see him in Pelagan clothes, it was like looking at a different person. She wondered if that was how he was feeling as he stared at her.

  Leo wore a pair of sleek black pants that tapered at the ankles, scarlet shoes with large gold buckles and chunky two-inch heels, and a champagne-colored shirt of the finest silk made in the traditional style favored by elite Pelagan men: large, billowing sleeves that cinched at the wrists with the front open in a wide V, its point plunging to his breastbone, exposing quite a bit of his chest. A turquoise sash that matched his eyes was tied around his waist.

  “They made me buy this,” he said morosely, but before Agnes could ask who they were, he sighed and looked down at himself. “Never in my life would I have thought I’d be wearing the stupid Pelagan clothes Robert and I used to make fun of.”

  “Robert was a small-minded idiot,” Agnes said. “And I don’t think you look stupid at all.” He gave her a withering look and she held up her hands. “I’m serious! I mean, it’s different from your usual style, but . . . it honestly sort of works on you.”

  “I’m practically naked,” Leo said, tugging at the open V of silk. “Why don’t they button their shirts? Why don’t their shirts even have buttons? These pants are so tight I doubt I’ll be able to sit down. And why do I have to wear heels?”

  Agnes couldn’t suppress her laugh. “At least yours aren’t dumb pointy things designed to make you teeter and fall. Those are very sturdy. Very practical.” Before he could protest further, she opened the door. “Now tell me what happened at the market and where we’re going for dinner.”

  “Well, everyone was right about my face,” he said, taking a few cautious steps in his new footwear. “The woman who changed money for us didn’t doubt for a second that I was a Byrne. She asked me if Ambrosine had cut off all the passages to the Lost Islands. Our grandmother might be even more powerful than we realized.”

  That made Agnes thrilled and queasy all at once. “But even if she’s cut off the passages, surely she would let us through,” she said.

  “That’s not all,” Leo said as they started down the narrow corridor back toward the captain’s cabin. “We sort of ran into a princess. The Renalt’s daughter.”

  “You ran into a princess? How?”

  “Trying to avoid Misarros,” Leo said like it was obvious. “Anyway, she was buying a dress from a woman who turned out to be Eneas’s sister. She’s a big-deal dressmaker in Pelago. She recognized me immediately and helped us pick out all these clothes. She invited us back to her house tonight. So that’s where dinner is.”

  “What?” Agnes yelped. “You found Eneas’s sister? What’s she like? Where is her house? Why didn’t you tell me all this right away?”

  “Because I knew you would ask a million questions and it would take ages for you to get dressed and then we’d be late. You didn’t see the market, Agnes; it’s heavily patrolled by Misarros. We need to blend in or we’ll end up in jail or worse.”

  Agnes’s heart skipped a beat. “But they wouldn’t arrest a Byrne, would they?”

  “If Ambrosine has cut off the passages to the Lost Islands, I’m not sure being a Byrne is such a great thing at the moment. Besides, we’re half Kaolin. They’re arresting anyone who they suspect of having anything to do with Kaolins.”

  He was right, Agnes knew, and she didn’t like it. They needed to find her grandmother. Once they were under Ambrosine’s protection, they would be safe. She was about to pepper him with a few more queries when the door to the captain’s cabin opened and Leo stopped so abruptly that Agnes crashed into him.

  Sera stood in the doorway, her hair tied back in a bun, a smugly grinning Vada behind her, wearing an outfit similar to Agnes’s own but with a dark yellow vest.

  “She is looking perfect, just like Phebe said,” Vada declared.

  Sera’s lace dress clung to her slender figure, rich purple and patterned with flowers, tulips and violets and marigolds. The sleeves were so long they crept over her hands to encase each finger in lace up to her knuckles. The neck climbed to brush the base of her chin, and around her waist hung a belt of bone white clamshells limned in gold filigree. The dress fell to cover her feet, a long train spreading out behind her. The overall effect was one of wealth and loveliness.

  “She looks beautiful,” Agnes said.

  “This is the traditional dress worn by an upper-class Pelagan woman who is about to be married,” Vada said. “Princess Rahel was being fitted for one just like it. It’s a brilliant disguise. Sera will be playing the part of a blushing bride for your brother.”

  Leo’s cheeks turned pink.

  “But what about her hair?” Agnes asked. “And her face?”

  Vada snapped her fingers. “I have not yet added the best part.” She vanished, reappearing a moment later with a large headdress in her hands. Carefully, she placed it on Sera’s head. It was crafted out of myriad small shells—slipper snails and shark eyes and pointed venuses grew to form two distinct points, like delicate horns. In between them nestled a gorgeous pale pink conch. Strands of purple and turquoise beads dangled to her collarbone, covering her face and hair completely.

  “See? Perfect.” Vada beamed. “Agnes, you and I will be pretending to be their servants.”

  “What?” Agnes cried.

  “You wanted to leave the ship, did you not?” Vada said. Agnes grumbled, but there were far more important matters at stake than one night of pretending to serve her brother.

  Sera turned her head side to side and the beads made tiny clacking sounds. “It’s a bit difficult to see,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t let you trip on anything,” Agnes said.

  Vada frowned at her brother. “Where is your komm-heart, Kaolin fool?”

  “His what?”

  “She made me get a headdress too,” Leo grumbled before turning on Vada. “I told you, this outfit should be enough.”

  “Oh, I am sorry, were you born and raised in Pelago? Are you knowing all our ways and customs as if they were your own? No? Then close your mouth and put your komm-heart on,” Vada snapped.

  Leo muttered something under his breath and stalked off back to his room. Sera smiled at Agnes beatifically.

  “It’s a very pretty dress, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Agnes agreed.

  She examined her arms, encased in purple lace. “I like this color. We only have robes of white or blue in the City Above the Sky.”

  Agnes was always happy when Sera found something to love about this planet. Even though she knew it wasn’t for her, she knew the girl had to return to her people, it made Agnes happy to think her own home wasn’t all bad.

  “Your clothes are very nice as well,” Sera said. “You look much more comfortable.”

  “What is she saying?” Vada asked.

  “She likes my outfit,” Agnes said. “She thinks I look comfortable.”

  Vada winked at her. “You do, little lion. You look as if you were born to wear it.”

  Agnes flushed. Leo appeared then, a circlet of speckled junonia shells crowning his curls. For all his moaning about it, the headdress was subtle and suited him perfectly.

  Vada clapped her hands together. “Well, my friends,” she said. “Let us go to dinner.”

  4

  Sera

  AS SOON AS SERA STEPPED FOOT ON THE SHORES OF PELAGO, she felt her magic surge within her, a thrilling force that made her feel at once powerful and out of sorts. She had an overwhelming sense of certainty that her City was still tethered here, that this country was welcoming her like an old friend.

  Then they entered the market and she became overwhelmed by all the people. There was an undercurrent of tension in the air. Misarros prowled everywhere, occasionally stopping to question a patron or a vendor. But
Vada’s disguise had worked—no one bowed or knelt or treated her like a freak or a goddess.

  When people did notice them at all, it was Leo they focused on. She saw an old man touch his forehead when they passed and a young girl do a double take. She was glad that Leo, at least, could pass himself off as Pelagan. And no one seemed to take any notice of Agnes.

  Sera’s legs didn’t stop trembling until they were fully past the enormous market. They came out upon a wide boulevard bustling with horses pulling carriages decorated with shells or stones or jewels. People on foot wove in between them, alongside the occasional palanquin carried by broad-shouldered servants, curtains open to let in the cool evening breeze and revealing the man or woman reclined within.

  Leo stopped and looked up and down the boulevard in confusion.

  “Which way?” he hissed to Vada, but before she could answer, a man wearing a uniform of dark pants under a white tunic and low-heeled sandals rushed up to them. The same seal on the package her dress had been wrapped in—a swan crowned with three stars—was printed on the right side of his chest in red.

  “Mr. Byrne,” he said, making an elaborate bow. “What a true honor to meet you. Mistress Ofairn has sent me to escort you, your bride, and your servants to dinner. Please come this way.”

  Leo responded with a curt nod. They crossed the boulevard, deftly maneuvering between carriages, before entering a smaller street lined with dwellings made of light-colored stone, ivory and rose and pale gold. It was quieter here and Sera felt her heart rate slowly return to normal.

  The servant made a sharp right, onto a street paved with blue-gray stone. It rose up in a steep incline, the dwellings on either side colored in teal and cobalt and jade. Leo was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top, and even Sera was a little winded. She liked the air in this country better than the sticky heat of Kaolin. The faint taste of brine and the fresh breeze off the water made her feel stronger, more alive. Though she was ready to take her headdress off—it was growing heavy and the beads that hung in front of her face were beginning to bother her.