Ephemeral and Fleeting

by Patricia Reding

  “He is completely immune to magic imposed upon his person. Even the name of his blade—Immunis—reflects that fact.”

  Velia grabbed a tray of scones sitting before her, then stood and brought it to the other end of the table where Basha and Therese sat.

  “Surely, he can be banded,” she said as she returned to her seat.

  “Band him all you like, but it will not work. He can exercise no other magic, and no magic of any kind—good or evil—will work directly against him.”

  “I wasn’t aware,” Reigna said.

  “In any case,” Lucy said, her attention now turned back to her and Eden, “Dax and Aliza will handle the training of the Oathtakers in the City of Light. Now . . . what about the couple thousand troops here with us?”

  “Well, for starters,” Reigna said, “I’ve ordered them to clear the former gardens for a training ground.”

  “The gardens!”

  “Yes. We haven’t time to beautify the palace grounds anyway. So they’ll be razed. Just this morning, I ordered some of the Oathtakers to get started on that. It shouldn’t take them long. Then training can begin.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Eden and I will start working with them later today. We’ll organize them into companies of approximately a couple hundred each, and choose a captain for each group.”

  “Have you determined who else will work with them?” Jerrett asked. “Besides you two, I mean.”

  “For starters, I’m hoping you and Velia will,” Reigna said, glancing at the two of them, “and you, Marshall,” she continued, looking his way, “and Raman,” she added, acknowledging his presence. “Also . . . Kayson,” she turned his way, “we should have a healer available at all times when we train. What do you say?”

  “Sure. I’ll do that.”

  “Good. And you should put together your own company of any Oathtakers with the attendant magic power to heal.” She turned to Therese. “Have you any objection with Basha also assisting with the training?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Thank you. Are you up to it then, Basha?” Reigna asked, glancing her way.

  “Certainly.”

  “Excellent.” She glanced down at her notes again. “Finally, I thought I’d speak to Jules,” she said, turning to Lucy.

  “Let’s leave him to palace security,” she suggested. “Perhaps Samuel could assist you, though.”

  “Samuel the Silent?” Reigna teased with a grin, using her secret childhood moniker for him.

  Eden nudged her. “I think he’s the perfect choice. He doesn’t say much, but at least that way, you can be certain he’ll waste no time with unnecessary words.”

  “True,” her sister acknowledged, smiling at her. Then she addressed the others again. “As you know, we’ve not the numbers to defend ourselves against Zarek’s army in the traditional sense. We’ll have to use more . . . stealth methods. So, perhaps Samuel’s silence will come in handy.” Once again, she grinned.

  “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.

  “I’ve been thinking. There are too many of them—and too few of us. So I believe we’ll have to use unconventional methods. For example, we could identify where their food comes from and how it’s delivered, and then destroy it before it makes its way to them. Likewise, with their weapons.”

  “Excellent ideas,” Marshall said. “But how do you suggest we determine those things?”

  Just then, the door opened and in walked Mara, carrying a cup of tea. Upon reaching Dixon’s side, she reached for the empty chair situated between him and Lucy.

  He jumped to his feet and pulled it out for her. “Here, you go,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “A bit, I guess.” She turned to Lucy and raised her cup. “Thanks for the tea.”

  “Certainly.” She paused. “Actually, before I forget to mention it, you all should know that I’ve set up an infirmary in the room next to Vida’s suite. Those children of theirs have introduced the grippe to us. I’ve also made some arrangements with Adele.”

  She explained to the others about the catswort tea and how it could help to fend off illness, and of the herbal bundles they’d soon find burning in the palace suites.

  “You really all should start drinking the tea right away. In the meantime, I ask that you be on the watch for anything out of the ordinary. We can’t risk having an epidemic of anything truly serious break out.”

  “You think that’s possible?” Velia asked, clearly concerned.

  “Not likely, but . . . possible.”

  Jerrett patted Velia’s arm. “The boys’ll be fine.”

  “I agree,” Lucy said. “So far, it doesn’t appear that the illness will have the children down for more than a couple days, as I’ve seen nothing particularly serious.”

  She held her finger up. “Oh, and by the way, I’ve asked Clarimonde if she and Vida would allow your children,” she nodded at Velia and Jerrett, “to spend their days with theirs while the two of you are busy. Actually, that will apply to all of the children from the compound. Clarimonde agreed they could do so. In fact, her plan is to run a school here for them all. Since we’ve no current need for the former carriage house, she’ll set things up there.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Velia said, “although I think we’ll wait until Vida’s children are all healthy again before we send our boys.” She paused, taking a drink of her tea. Then, “Will Nina and Erin teach with her as well?” she asked. “Like they did when we were at the compound?”

  “I see no reason why not,” Lucy said. “All right, then,” she turned to Reigna, “how will we gain our intelligence?”

  Chapter Nine

  The twins helped clear the formal gardens in the afternoon and then, when the weather turned sour, headed in for dinner. Later, they joined Mara and Dixon for a palace tour, along with Vida and Clarimonde.

  They started on the top floor. In the past, mostly servants had inhabited it. Even so, Dixon and Clarimonde shared stories of some of the interesting palace visitors of days gone by who’d spent time there.

  Eventually they made their way to the second floor. Dixon did most of the talking and explaining, as Mara had only visited the place once in the past, under Basha’s direction. He highlighted the architectural details, and identified when he could, those people who’d been responsible for particular design and decorative elements. He also shared stories about the personalities who’d lived in the past, within some of the rooms they toured, and of their relationship to the twins’ mother, and therefore, to them. From time to time, Clarimonde added stories she recalled from old, to his comments.

  Its majesty astonishing them, the three sisters stopped repeatedly to examine the finest of details. The most obscure trinkets, works of art, fine silver pieces, porcelain tea sets, tapestries, and figurines, captured their attention. Occasionally Vida purported to recollect a particular item from her childhood—before she’d been whisked away for safety—if only vaguely. All the while, the three sisters begged for stories of the palace’s various prior inhabitants.

  When they entered Lilith’s former quarters—the only rooms that had not been cleaned to date—Reigna shuddered on sight of the blood-red colored walls, curtains, and of the bed’s canopy. She sauntered about, Eden following.

  Clarimonde and Vida stood aside as Mara, to the occasional flash of lightning coming in through the shades, told them the story of her last visit there—two decades prior. Then, the lord of the underworld, Daeva, had appeared before her in Lilith’s looking glass. When Mara threw a crystal at him in response to his heckling Basha, the mirror had exploded into millions of tiny glass fragments before disappearing.

  “It sounded almost . . . musical—when the glass shards fell,” Mara said, “which was odd considering . . .”

  “Why haven’t these rooms been cleaned yet?” Eden asked.

  Dixon shrugged. “Mara and I talked about it. We t
hought you two should take a look here first—that it might give you an idea of the person Lilith was.” He turned to Vida. “And you, Vida, do you recall anything of your Aunt Lilith?”

  “A bit.”

  “She was . . . disorganized,” Reigna offered, “flighty.”

  “Vain,” Eden added, “and self-centered.”

  “Yes . . . but quite bright,” Vida offered. “And beautiful, too. I do remember that much.”

  “Yes, that’s all true,” Dixon said to the sisters. Yet,” he added, picking up a silk scarf from the floor and draping it over the bed, “she hadn’t always been so lacking in focus and so . . . sloppy. I believe that as thoughts of her coming to power one day grew, she paid less and less attention to anything else.”

  “About when did she start changing, do you think?” Eden asked.

  Dixon pondered for a moment. “I’m not sure. But remember, I wasn’t your mother’s first Oathtaker. By the time I first met Lilith, she was already quite difficult to manage. Rowena was always very careful around her.”

  Mara sat down as the others continued their survey.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked her.

  She waved her hand. “I’m fine. Just tired. The grippe has weakened me.”

  “Perhaps you should go lie down.”

  “Yes, Mara,” Clarimonde agreed.

  “No, I’m fine—really. Now, if you’re ready to move on,” she said, glancing at each of the three sisters in turn, “you might like to take a look at the portraits of some of your ancestors. A number of them line the hallway near here.”

  Eden took her Oathtaker’s hand. “I’ll make arrangements to have this all cleaned up first thing tomorrow. There’s no sense in wasting this space. And I’ll go through Lilith’s old belongings here for anything of interest. When I’m through, we can have what remains, burned.”

  “Good idea. I’ll give you a hand.”

  Mara stepped out and down the hall with the twins and Dixon at her side. Clarimonde and Vida followed.

  Shortly, she stopped before some paintings. “This is your mother’s mother—your grandmother—Mae,” she said gesturing at one of them. “And here,” she motioned toward the one next to it, “is your grandfather, Max.”

  Reigna neared the painting of Mae. With her eyes narrowed, she examined it closely. Then her gaze flickered toward Eden. “You look like her,” she said.

  Her twin burst into laughter. “I look like her! Ha ha ha ha ha! We look like her!”

  Chuckling with them, Mara took an arm of each. “Dixon needs to go meet with Jules about palace security, but there are some things I’d like to show the two of you, and Vida. They’re in our room.”

  “All right,” Reigna said.

  “You go along,” Clarimonde said to her charge. “I’m off to check on the children. I’ll see you when you’re through.”

  Thunder rumbled as they sat on Mara’s bed, Reigna at one side, her legs hanging over the edge, Eden semi-reclined, leaning on one elbow, and Vida at the end, wiping her hand against the smooth softness of the cotton bedding.

  Holding a rosewood box that boasted intricately carved scrolls and whirls on its cover, Mara opened it, then retrieved something from within.

  “This belonged to your mother,” she said, holding it up.

  Reigna took the trinket, a hairpin of gold, studded in multi-colored crystals that shone in the candlelight. She turned it over. “It’s beautiful!”

  “Yes.” Mara explained how she believed that the crystals were some of the magic ones the Oathtakers created and used as weapons—the same kind that made up the windows of the main sanctuary building in Polesk.

  “I can’t imagine where they came from though,” she said, “since no one seemed aware of an Oathtaker’s magic ability to make them until Basha and I discovered it when we came back here to the palace to retrieve the great scepter. That of course, was when you two were just infants.”

  She looked off at nothing in particular, biting her lip. Then she said, “I suppose like so much of our lore, the information was simply lost through the ages.” She glanced back at the twins. “Even Lucy, who as you well know is centuries old, didn’t know about them.”

  Reigna looked the item over again. Handing it to her twin, she asked, “Where do you suppose it’s from?”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve no idea. It may have been an heirloom her mother gave to her.”

  Mara reached into the rosewood box and retrieved another item. “This also belonged to your mother,” she said, placing it in Reigna’s hand. “Dixon retrieved it after her death. I understand that she wore it at all times.”

  Inside the locket clasped to a chain that Mara had given her, Reigna discovered two miniature paintings. She showed them to Eden and to Vida. The picture on the left was of a man, that on the right, clearly one of their mother.

  Pointing at the likeness on the left, Mara held Reigna’s gaze. “That was your father, Grant. His portrait was never painted and hung on the wall here. As you know, he wasn’t born of the Select. I don’t know if the decision was made not to include it under those circumstances, or if they’d simply not managed to get one commissioned before his death.”

  Reigna examined the item closely. “I’ve always wondered what father looked like.” She glanced at Vida. “He was very handsome.”

  “He was indeed.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Mara said.

  Reigna handed the locket to Vida, who jumped when the sound of the murmuring rainfall on the windows, suddenly changed to a drumming. After perusing it, she gave it to Eden.

  “I have another item here,” Mara said, removing something more from the box. “This was your mother’s wedding ring.” She turned it around and around in her fingers. “Dixon also took this from her just after she died.” She paused, closing her eyes. “I’ll never forget how distraught he was . . .” She glanced back up. “He cared for her deeply, and I know he’d have done anything to have seen to her safety.”

  She held the ring out. “I’ve kept this all these years. I thought one of you might like to wear it, and the other, the locket,” she said to the twins. Then she glanced Vida’s way. “But of course, its up to you all what we should do with these pieces.”

  The twins looked at one another and then at Vida. They all nodded, as though each understood what the others thought.

  “Actually,” Eden said to Mara, “you should hold the ring for safekeeping.”

  “Yes, and I think that one of you two,” Vida said to her sisters, “should make use of the hairpin, and the other, the locket.”

  “Are you sure?” Reigna asked.

  “I’m certain.”

  Reigna addressed her twin. “That’s fine with me. Which would you prefer, Eden?”

  “Oh, please, don’t make me choose. We could be here all night.”

  Reigna chuckled. “Fine. I’ll take the hairpin then. But I do think we should keep these things safe in our lock boxes.”

  “Agreed.”

  Just then a knock came at the door, quiet in comparison to the now crashing thunder outside.

  “Yes?” Mara called.

  Lucy entered and approached. On the night table next to Mara, she set down a mug. “Some more tea,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  “I think a bit better, thank you.”

  “Adele’s come down with something now too, as have a few of the Oathtakers who’ve been helping with your children,” she said to Vida, scowling.

  “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

  “Oh, never mind. It couldn’t be helped, I’m sure.” Then she glanced at the twins. “Actually though, I’m not sure the two of you should be spending time with Mara just now—or with your sister, for that matter. We don’t need you coming down with anything.”

  “I’m fine,” Reigna said.

  “Me too,” Eden agreed.

  “Very well then, as you say,” Lucy said. “So, what are you all up to anyway?”

  She lean
ed over and glanced at the ring that Mara still held. “Oh, I see,” she addressed the three sisters. “You’re going through some of your mother’s things.”

  “Yes,” Vida said.

  “These rooms here that Mara and Dixon are using, your parents used to share,” Lucy said as she waved her hand to indicate their surroundings. “When we moved in, I went through them. I had some of your mother’s things packed up for storing in the lower levels. Some day, if things ever settle down, we can go through them together.”

  “I’d like that,” Eden said.

  “Thank you, yes, so would I,” her twin agreed.

  Vida merely nodded and smiled.

  “Oh,” Mara said, jumping to her feet as a flash of lightning shone through the window, “there’s one thing more I found amongst your mother’s belongings, after her death. Maybe Lucy knows something about it.”

  She went to her closet and pulled out from the top shelf, a box. Upon returning, she placed it on the bed. She took off the top and folded open the crinkling tissue paper inside.

  “Here we go,” she said, pulling something out.

  Lucy grinned. “That old thing?” She held her hand to her chest. “Oh, goodness, I didn’t know you still had that.”

  “Old!” Reigna cried, running her hands over the softest, whitest cashmere cape, in a most intricate cabled weave. “Why, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

  Eden nodded her agreement. “This was our mother’s?” She picked up the item and turned it over. It’s spotless. Gorgeous!” She turned to Lucy. “You laughed about it. Why?”

  Lucy picked up a corner of it. “Your mother got this years ago, when she was even younger than the two of you are now, from a vendor at a market in a village not far from Polesk. The woman went by the name ‘Skelly.’ Great Ehyeh, but I’ll never forget her! She told the wildest stories—and was believed to be mad.” She locked eyes with one of the twins, then the other, all to the sound of rumbling thunder. “In any case, Skelly had followed your mother and I around, along with your mother’s first Oathtaker, all day.”

  “What was his name again?” Vida asked.