The captain, Mara, and Connly stood aside looking over the greatcoat. As the Riders were satisfied and dispersed out into the corridor, Karigan’s father joined her. “We are to meet your aunts down in the city for a meal. I asked your captain if she would accompany us, but she must attend the king. What of Estral?”
Karigan was relieved the captain had declined. It would have been awkward to sit down to supper with the two of them after having witnessed their ardent kiss in the stables. Estral, who was conversing with Garth, also declined.
“I’d love to,” Estral said, “but I want to catch up with Garth and Connly.”
About Alton, she was sure.
So, when it was time to head into the city, it was just Karigan and her father riding down the Winding Way in a hired cab beneath the late afternoon sun.
“Your aunts have the wagon,” he explained. They were no doubt filling up its cargo space on their shopping expedition.
They fell into silence as the cab rumbled over cobblestones and through slush. Karigan rubbed absently around her mirror eye to relieve the ache. Ben’s salve helped, but not entirely.
“Does it hurt much?” her father asked.
She started at his speaking. “Aches a little,” she replied. More than a little, she thought, as a result of her meeting with Lhean.
“Kari,” her father began, his expression clouded, “if you ever need to talk . . .”
She gazed out the window at shops and houses with icicles hanging off the eaves that glistened in the sunlight. “I know.” She had already done enough talking to both Lhean and Estral. She did not have it in her to delve into such difficult territory again in so short a time.
Unbidden, she thought back to seeing her father and Captain Mapstone together in the stables, and considered her loss of Cade.
“You know,” she told him, “I want you to be happy just as much as you have always wanted me to be happy.”
He smiled tentatively. “That is good to hear. Don’t worry, I am not going to try to match you with another merchant’s son, and I’ve been discouraging your aunts, too. I have come to realize, along with your vocation, you will find your own path in that regard, as well. When someone does come into your life, I can always hope he is a merchant, or he wants to learn the trade.”
Well, that was a relief. “Good. I hope you will find someone who makes you happy, too.”
“You do?”
His surprise saddened her. “Yes, I do. It’s been a long time since mother passed.” They sat silently in the sway of the carriage for a moment. “I know you still grieve, but I don’t think she would wish for you to be lonely and sad because of her, and I certainly don’t.” She would not bring up the captain unless he did first. She didn’t want him to know she’d caught them in an intimate situation. If it turned out to be serious between the two of them, then he could come around to telling her himself.
He gave her an appraising look, like he’d never expected this from her. “You have truly grown up.” And then his gaze became more serious. “No, not just grown up, but I suspect your experiences as a Green Rider have made you wise beyond your years. I will not intrude on whatever it is you wish to keep private, but my offer to listen will always remain open, should you ever need to talk. It is the hardest thing on Earth to lose someone you love. I never believed I would survive after your mother died, but I had you. When I heard you’d been declared dead?” He shook his head and looked down at his hands. “It all came back. I—I kind of gave up for a while, let things go. Your aunts and Sevano did what they could to keep the business going, but they were hurting, too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? It isn’t your fault you disappeared. At least, not entirely. We will recover from any shortfalls in business, but I am not sure what would have happened had you not returned.”
“I would have wanted you to go on,” she replied, and suddenly she realized that it was what Cade would have wanted for her, too. He would want her to live and find happiness, however she could.
“Yes, but when you are in the midst of grief, the darkness, it is not so easy to see.”
She knew. The sideways glance he gave her made her believe he sensed something of her own grief. She supposed it wasn’t difficult for anyone around her to guess what Cade had meant to her, which her father confirmed by his next statement.
“Just as I had my sisters and Sevano to support me in so difficult a time, so do you have your friends in the Green Riders, and Estral, too. They are your second family, if I am not mistaken, and you can lean on them in times of trouble.”
“I know,” she replied. At least, she thought she knew, but she had that terrible habit of hiding her wounds.
“I will also always be there for you.”
“You’d better be.”
“It is settled then. I may require your support now and then, as well.”
She smiled and gazed out once more at snowy roofs and pedestrians picking their way over the icy street. She was very lucky, luckier than she had ever imagined, for her family. Both families.
A short time later, a mischievous thought came into her mind and she turned to her father. “I feel that I should warn you about Captain Mapstone.”
He stared blankly at her. “Warn me about her?”
Karigan nodded solemnly. “Since you are aware that Green Riders have magical abilities, I do not feel it amiss to warn you she can tell if you are ever lying.”
He paled. “She—she can read my mind?”
Karigan smiled. “Just thought you’d find it useful to know in your dealings with her.” His look of consternation was so comical she could barely suppress her laughter. “As long as you don’t lie to her, you should be all right.”
Perhaps it was not her place to tell him of the captain’s ability, but seeing him squirm a little was priceless. Merchants, she knew very well, were prone to exaggerations, and her father was no exception. She wondered, in amusement, what sort of things he’d already told the captain.
• • •
In the days that followed, winter eased with sunnier skies and longer days, allowing some of the snow to melt, only to freeze into ice during the night. Karigan spent time with her father and aunts visiting museums, shopping, and sipping tea at a cafe on Gryphon Street. There were times when it was just she and her aunts, and she suspected besides “attending to business” as she was told, her father was actually visiting the captain.
Her family was more cautious with her, she noticed. They tread carefully, treated her as an adult, and were well-behaved in her chamber, not prying but respecting her privacy. As much as she had wished for that respect, it felt like a part of her childhood had died, and she thought maybe they were being a little too careful.
On the day of their departure, she stood on the front steps of the castle with her aunts, waiting for her father to appear. He had, her aunts said, some final “business” with Captain Mapstone.
I bet he does, Karigan thought.
“While, we’re waiting . . .” Aunt Stace said, and she stepped down to their wagon and leaned into the cargo area. She pulled out what looked like a bulging canvas sail bag. “We have passed the winter knitting and thought your friends would like hats and mittens like yours.”
“Oh, yes,” Karigan said, accepting the bag and peering inside at the green wool yarn. “They’ve been threatening to steal mine!”
Her aunts beamed. “There is also a set in minstrel blue for Estral.”
“Don’t forget the other thing,” Aunt Tory said.
Aunt Stace’s lips became a narrow line; then she said, “Of course, Tory.” She pulled a jug from the wagon bed that sloshed when she handed it to Karigan.
“Did you know that your friend, Lord Alton, has an aunt who distills whiskey?” Aunt Tory asked Karigan.
“Uh, no, I did not.” Karigan held t
he jug in her arms, regarding it dubiously.
“Well, he does, and that is a fine sample of her work. Very good for toddies.”
If Aunt Tory expected her to consume it all herself, it would take years. Good thing it wouldn’t go bad. She noticed the guards at the castle entrance eyeing the jug wistfully. Maybe she could share it with some new friends.
Her father soon joined them, cutting across castle grounds, no doubt from officers quarters, rather than exiting the castle itself. He looked well pleased with himself. His “business” with the captain must have gone well.
Hmm.
“It was time we departed, I suppose,” he said, “while the weather holds and the day is young.” He hugged Karigan, jug of whiskey and all. “Remember, we are all so proud of you. I can’t even express how happy I am you are back with us.”
When he pulled away, she espied what might have been a glistening of tears in his eyes, but then he was entirely himself, chivvying his sisters to get moving. Her aunts gave her kisses and hugs. He then helped them step up onto the wagon.
“It looks to be a challenging year for trade,” he told her, “with the uncertainty of forthcoming conflict, but we are G’ladheons and we will forge on.” He then climbed up onto the driving bench with Aunt Stace. “Do visit if you can, and please, please, stay out of trouble.”
“No promises.”
“I know,” he said quietly. Without an actual good-bye, he clucked and whistled the drays on. The wagon lurched forward. Her aunts did call out their farewells and waved to her. She watched the wagon make its way down the drive all the way to the portcullis and out of sight.
Rather suddenly the world had gone quiet, and she felt very alone. As much as their arrival had posed some difficulty for her, she now felt bereft with their departure. Perhaps, she thought, adjusting the jug of whiskey in her arms, she should go hand out the hats and mittens her aunts had knitted, and make herself a toddy. A toddy strong enough to please Aunt Tory.
She smiled, and hefting the sail bag over her shoulder, entered the castle.
• • •
When Karigan returned to the Rider wing with her burdens, she found the corridor quiet and empty but for one Rider, Sophina. She came from minor nobility and had heard the call not long before Karigan had entered Blackveil. Sophina had not gotten on well at first, thinking herself above all the others and too good to be a messenger. That Alton D’Yer was a Rider and the heir of a province did nothing to sway her. Apparently her attitude had begun to change the day her ability manifested, the day that an assassin’s arrow almost took King Zachary from them. She had “seen” it happen.
And now she stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes.
“Sophina?” Karigan asked quietly.
Sophina’s gaze did not waver, and she extended her hand toward the ceiling as though to touch something that was not there. “The light reaches down like the fingers of a hand.”
A NEW DUTY
Karigan glanced at the ceiling as if she, too, might see what Sophina saw, but there was nothing. Then Sophina’s hand fell to her side, and she staggered backward. Karigan dropped her bag of knitted goods and hastily shifted her jug so she could help steady Sophina. Sophina shook her head as if to clear it.
“Are you all right?” Karigan asked.
Sophina looked around as if she didn’t know where she was at first. “What happened?”
“Your ability just now,” Karigan replied. If she’d heard right from Mara, this would be only the second time it had emerged. “Do you remember anything?”
“No. Did I say something?”
“The light reaches down like the fingers of a hand.”
Sophina laughed derisively. “Is that all? Ridiculous.”
“It could mean more than it seems. You need to report it to Captain Mapstone.”
Sophina shrugged and went on her way. Karigan shrugged, too, and headed to the common room where she deposited the sail bag of mittens and hats for anyone who wanted them, but for one set she removed to give to the captain later.
• • •
“I brought you a hat and mittens my aunts knitted.” Karigan passed them across the worktable to the captain.
She looked delighted as she tried on a mitten. “I must write to thank them. You saw them off?”
“Yes.”
“Good-byes can be difficult.”
Karigan wondered if she was thinking about her own parting with a certain merchant.
“And your eye?” the captain asked. “How is it feeling?”
“All right. It’s been worse.” Before the captain could dig deeper into the subject, or address what had caused her eye to hurt more recently, she asked, “Did Sophina come by?”
“Sophina? No. Why?”
Karigan described her encounter with the Rider.
“Light reaches down like the fingers of a hand.” The captain sat back in her chair. “It appears the Eletians do not hold dominion over mysterious visions and pronouncements. I will share it with the king and his other advisors, and I will also speak to Sophina. Her attitude is much improved compared to what it used to be, but sometimes she has lapses. I’ll drum it into her that she is to report any time she has a vision.” Then she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll have Mara do the drumming. She’s good at it.”
Yes, she was, Karigan thought.
“As for you . . .” The captain gazed appraisingly at her. “Since you are now off leave, besides your usual duties, I think I will assign you to help Elgin in the records room in his research of old Rider documents. Your hand is better than most, and there are old documents that need transcribing.”
Karigan tried to conceal her lack of enthusiasm. Transcription reminded her too much of keeping the Rider accounts, but at least when she was doing that, she was actively solving problems.
“Appreciate the quiet time,” the captain said, detecting her disappointment, “for spring will soon be upon us, and not only will there be many message errands going out, but conflict with Second Empire will reignite. We’ll be looking back at this time with some longing.”
She was right, of course, Karigan thought as she headed back to the castle with reports tucked under her arm that were to be delivered to the records room. It was just that she’d never been one for stillness, and even less so now. She’d rather be moving, keeping both mind and body active so she did not end up dwelling on loss. And not just loss, but all the changes wrought upon her by whatever forces sought to manipulate her. The gods, specifically Westrion and his steed Salvistar, seemed to have some claim on her. Then there was the mirror man and what had become of her eye. Mirare, Somial had called her. Who or what were the Mirari? Ghosts had also manipulated her from time to time, and the Eletians, as well. It just wasn’t normal, her life, and she had no idea what to expect next, or how she would be used. It seemed no matter how much she fought it, fate led her on its own course.
When she reached the records room, she found not only Elgin Foxsmith sitting at a table full of scrolls, manuscripts, and ledgers, but Estral and Connly standing behind another table looking over a map. Everyone glanced up at her arrival and exchanged greetings.
“I was expecting Elgin to be here,” Karigan said, “and maybe Dakrias, but what are you two doing here?”
Connly and Estral exchanged smiles.
“We’re looking at old tax and landholder maps,” Estral said.
Karigan stepped up to the table and gazed down at the large curling sheet showing Sacoridia in detail. She’d seen plenty of maps in her time as a Green Rider, and this was nothing new.
“What are you looking for?”
“My father,” Estral replied. “When Connly stopped in Selium and talked to the dean and others, there was some agreement that my father intended to travel north.”
“North” encompassed a lot of territory in Sacoridia and beyond.
North was where a lot of the action against Second Empire had occurred. Eletia was also north and slightly west. Lord Fiori would be but a grain of sand on all the beaches of Sacoridia combined.
“We are looking at villages and towns that are north, in both Adolind and D’Ivary,” Estral continued. “But I suppose much has changed since this map was last updated.”
Elgin laughed, and they all looked at him. “That map’s forty years old. Of course things have changed. Why, when the Raiders were running rampant, people abandoned their small villages and settlements to find safety in larger towns.”
“It’s the most recent map we’ve got showing smaller villages and settlements,” Connly said.
Green Riders rarely delivered messages to small villages. Usually their errands took them to lord-governors and other nobility, and administrators of the larger towns and cities. Any villages they traveled through were on the way along major routes. Those located in the hinterlands rarely saw the passage of a king’s messenger. With just a glance at the map, however, Karigan could see a few villages that no longer existed.
“Where will you start?” Karigan asked.
Estral looked glum. “I don’t know. Maybe Lord Adolind will have some word of my father, but if my father was traveling anonymously, there may be no way of knowing if he passed that way.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Karigan said. “He always has before, though I know this time it’s been longer than usual.”
“I hope you’re right,” Estral said, “that he’ll turn up.”
Karigan deposited the captain’s reports in a basket on Dakrias’ desk. It felt strange that he was not present, but as chief administrator, his duties must extract him from his beloved records room on occasion.
Out of habit, she glanced up into the dark regions overhead. Dakrias was not the only one who occupied the records room. It was haunted, and now and then Karigan heard whispers by her ear or felt ghostly touches on her shoulder or cheek. She’d heard that when she was finally declared dead last fall, the captain had held a memorial circle here beneath the great stained glass dome, currently hidden by shadows, and that the ghosts had caused quite a ruckus.
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