The Orphan's Secret

by R. J. Francis

  “We need to find Isabel,” Jaimin said. “She knows too much, and she needs to answer for what she’s done.”

  “Indeed…” Nastasha said. Suddenly Elaina and Alessa had the feeling Nastasha had done more during her visit to Isabel’s lab than just gather evidence. “I should have known what that nurse was up to,” Nastasha said. “Her secret lab was clearly marked on the castle floor plans, and I didn’t spot it until it was too late.” She sighed, tucked the journal back into her cloak, and reached behind her neck to pull out her disheveled hair. She ran her fingers through it to remove the worst of the tangles. Jaimin handed her the brush.

  She glanced at Elaina, and then did a double take. “You look different,” she told Elaina.

  “I’ve been through quite a lot.”

  “I mean…your hair is longer,” Nastasha said.

  Elaina examined her hair. It had grown by nearly the length of a finger.

  “Probably from all that happened last night,” she said. “We’ve got stories, too. Jaimin and I have been to the spirit world and back,” Elaina said. “To the past, to the Celmarean palace on the day of the war. We were really there.”

  “What? Is that possible?” Nastasha asked.

  “Yes. We relived that day. Sit with us; I’ll tell you everything.”

  Elaina explained everything she’d seen and been through the night before, including the bits she hadn’t had a good chance to tell Jaimin yet. Stoically, she explained who her father was, and that he had slain her mother.

  “You had your blade at Radovan’s throat?” Nastasha asked Jaimin. “And you didn’t use it?”

  “I wouldn’t let him,” Elaina said.

  “Because he’s… your father?”

  “No. Because my mother believed he was innocent. And when I saw him, I knew she was right.”

  “You think Radovan is innocent? That he’s under someone else’s spell?” Nastasha asked. “Jaimin this is crazy.”

  “It’s… not crazy,” Jaimin said. “There was something in his eyes—I don’t know how to describe it. I felt sorry for him.”

  “Sounds like you two are under a spell.” Nastasha’s hands were shaking. “My mother is dead, and so many others. And you could have stopped him? You could have changed history?” Jaimin tried to put his hand on her shoulder and she batted it away. Nastasha turned to Alessa. “Why are you so quiet? What? Is there even more we don’t know? I bet this thrills you.”

  Alessa said nothing.

  Nastasha looked dazed. “I don’t… I’m sorry.” She finished brushing out her hair, and tossed the brush back to Jaimin. “I may never understand things the way you three do. Excuse me.” She made her way further up into the caverns, looking for a place to rest in solitude.

  Jaimin started after her, but Alessa held him back. “She needs time,” Alessa said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Rosner and two soldiers came back in from outside. “Your Highness,” said the captain. “Breakfast will be ready within the hour, and your mother and sister are expected soon. I shall show you to your living area.”

  The group collected their belongings and followed Rosner up the lava tube. Just past the spot where Jaimin had met up with Kotaret, the tunnel’s air rapidly warmed. Rosner warned everyone to keep their distance from the steam issuing from cracks in the walls, floor, and ceiling—it was hot enough to burn.

  A cavern that branched off to the right was being used as a barn. Tyrant, Nightmare, and six other horses had their leads tied to iron rings in the rock wall. A cow was munching on a pile of brownish grass. Two soldiers stacked hay bales.

  Elaina stayed to check on the horses, and the others continued up the lava tube. At a fork in the tunnel, one branch led up and to the left, the other down and to the right.

  Rosner led Jaimin and Alessa up the left path into a spacious cavern. Veins of gold splayed across the quartz-encrusted ceiling gleamed in the torchlight. Five canvas cots were set up, each with its own stack of cotton sheets and blankets folded with military precision. A few tables lent the camp the illusion of permanence. Folding wooden screens shielded a dressing area and a bathing pool.

  Alessa knelt near the last cot and unpacked the clothing she had brought for herself and Elaina. Alessa had fit quite a bit into her saddlebags, including a formal gown of deep green for herself, and a black satin gown Masha had made for Elaina. She’d also brought jewelry, snacks, spices, starter cultures for Elaina to make cheese, grooming utensils, toiletries, pads, a sinus pot, extra crossbow bolts, two black velvet bags, some books, olive wood boxes, teas, and various tools.

  All Jaimin had were the clothes he wore and the sword Alessa had given him. He assumed the enemy had looted his room of all the artifacts and collections that had meant so much to him.

  The prince put on a refugee uniform from the stockpiles, and found a new cloak.

  Arin discovered Nastasha curled up in a dark corner not far from the cave entrance. He fetched blankets, covered her, and sat beside her a while as she slept. When she awoke, she could just make out his features. “Hey you,” she said.

  “Miss, you don’t mind if I sit a moment? It’s been quite a night.”

  “I’m happy to see you alive,” Nastasha said.

  “We’re the lucky ones, ey?”

  “Yeah. I suppose we are. Help me up.”

  He got up and lifted her to her feet. Some fine gravel fell from her hair.

  “You’ve always looked after me, Arin,” she told him. “Thank you.”

  “Of course, Miss.”

  “Is Her Majesty here?”

  “She’ll be along presently. She’d like a word with you.”

  After Elaina caught up with Jaimin and the others, she bathed in the steaming pool behind the wooden screens. She emerged from the bath to find that Alessa had laid out her clean clothing.

  Breakfast was set out on the tables near the cots, and everyone ate. Soon afterward, Queen Alethea and Tori arrived. Jaimin was comforted by a long embrace by his mother. Meanwhile, Tori wandered cautiously up to Elaina.

  “How nice to meet you,” Elaina said. “I’m Elaina. You must be Tori.”

  “My full name is Princess Etaria. You may call me Tori if you like. Everyone else does.”

  “Princess Etaria. That’s lovely.”

  “We’re named based on our generation. Etaria, Elaina, and Eleonora. That’s the way it goes. Alessa, Alethea, Andienna. And our grandmothers Oria, Odiana, and Okelani. You see?”

  “Wow, you know so much more than I do,” said Elaina.

  “I know what’s important.”

  “Then tell me—is my sister alive?”

  “Of course she is, silly. She’s in Destauria, with your father.”

  “Goodness, you do know a lot. Maybe you should keep a few of those things quiet for now, okay?”

  “I also know you love Jaimin and he loves you. And when people love each other they must make plans to marry. Right?”

  Elaina laughed. “I suppose they should.”

  “One day I’m going to fall in love. And I’ll be in love forever. But right now I’m only five.”

  “I really like you,” Elaina told the little princess. “You and I are going to get along splendidly.”

  “When is the counterassault to begin?” Jaimin asked his mother.

  “It will take time to plan,” she said. “Days, perhaps. We are assessing the strength of the occupation force. We’re fortunate the initial scatter retreat worked. We’ve not yet been found.”

  “We can’t push them back with the forces we have,” Jaimin said. “Let’s be honest. And they’re going to find us soon enough.”

  “Give your mother some credit,” said Alethea. “I’m not short on ideas.”

  The queen came over and gave Elaina a kiss on both cheeks. “Thank you, my sister,” she said.

  “I’m sorry about your husband,” Elaina said.

  “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. He looked wond
erful. Radiant.”

  “He’s free now,” the queen said. “He’s finally free.”

  A soldier brought in a softwood hat box and placed it on the floor in the center of the room.

  “Elaina, my dear,” said the queen, “the day has arrived.” Elaina had absolutely no clue what Her Majesty was talking about, but she smiled shyly.

  “Leave us,” the queen told her men. “See that we’re not disturbed.”

  The queen watched the soldiers leave, then she set her Arran crown and Tori’s on a table, and led everyone over to the mysterious hat box on the floor.

  “My friends,” said the queen, “it’s time for the council to convene.”

  “The council? It’s been so long!” Alessa said.

  “Too long,” said the queen.

  Alessa eyed Jaimin, then she shot Queen Alethea a nervous glance. Jaimin, assuming he wouldn’t have a role in what the ladies were about to do, found a patch of straw and sat down. Elaina wasn’t sure whether to sit with her boyfriend, or to stay standing with the other ladies. Jaimin nodded, which Elaina took to mean it was okay with him if she stood.

  The queen knelt and opened the hat box. It contained two items: a black velvet bag, and a drawstring pouch of silver velvet. From the bag she withdrew an elegant circlet—a semicircular silver crown with a braided appearance—and slid it onto her head. The width of two fingers in front, the crown tapered to the width of one on the sides. Tiny black pearls ran along the length of each braid, a large white pearl was set in the very front, and a smaller white pearl was set on each side. Elaina recognized the crown right away, and she moved in for a better look. It was certainly the style of crown the princesses were wearing in her dream.

  Alessa walked over to her trove of personal items and withdrew from her own black velvet bag a crown identical to the queen’s. She put it on herself, and came back over. Elaina was so fixated on Alessa’s crown and shining eyes that she didn’t notice Alessa had in her hand yet another bag.

  From this third bag, Alessa drew the circlet meant for Elaina. Raising it slowly so Elaina could get a good look, Alessa pressed the gleaming object into her protégée’s hair. As the cold, stiff metal slid across her scalp into place, Elaina felt the responsibility attached to the object tremble down through her core.

  The crown didn’t make her a princess—she had always been that—but for the first time others would see her for who she really was. She smiled at the queen and Alessa, and sensed they were feeling hope—but she detected sorrow as well. She sensed that this crown had belonged to a person dear to everyone: her mother.

  “Princess Elaina of Celmarea, Panei Eleina Tselemarina,” said the queen. “Will you please convene the council?”

  “Irestala tamikle neuthala,” said Elaina. Alessa closed her eyes and recalled the last day she’d heard those words—the day Prince Julian had risked his life and his people to save hers. The words meant: “The council is convened.” Jaimin was astounded to hear Elaina speak Celmarean.

  Still in the hat box was the silver pouch. Queen Alethea handed Alessa the pouch, and then stepped behind Tori, resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. The queen cued Alessa with a nod. “Princess Etaria of Celmarea, Panei Etaria Tselemarina,” Alessa said, proudly, “we present you to the community as a leader. You will love and serve your people as long as you live. And they will love and serve you. Your destiny will be theirs, and theirs, yours. Your heart will guide you, grace and serenity will support you, and the sea will always be by your side. May the spirit who gives life to our world complete you and keep you pure.”

  After Alessa had repeated the blessing in perfect Celmarean, Elaina said, “Adesimei,” meaning, “Welcome.”

  “Adesimei,” said the queen to her daughter.

  “Adesimei, little sister,” said Alessa. She parted the mouth of the velvet bag and lifted from it a sparkling necklace with a silver sea star pendant dotted with diamonds. “This will be your crown until you’re older. It last belonged to your grandmother, Princess Oria.” Tori’s face lit up with excitement and wonder. Elaina lifted Tori’s curls out of the way so Alessa could clasp the necklace around the little girl’s neck.

  Tori enveloped Alessa in a hug, and started to hum a slow, sweet tune. It’s the anthem from my dream! Elaina thought.

  Alessa and the queen joined in the hypnotic melody, adding the words now. On the first repetition of the chorus, Elaina, compelled by her spirit, added her confident voice, pronouncing every Celmarean syllable without a flaw. Jaimin was captivated.

  The refrain was haunting:

  “Eloi na tsan tse nalinga sei, sereimei tan te desimei fei. Tsa li li tsan, Tsa li li tsan, ele el san, thera tselemei.”

  The sound resonated within Elaina’s chest; it was like she heard the song with her entire body. With each new verse, the resonance grew stronger and her awareness of her surroundings weakened. She felt faint, but instead of fighting the feeling, she went along with it. Somehow she knew she would be fine. When Jaimin saw Elaina’s eyes losing focus, he stood to catch her.

  “She’s fine,” said the queen. “No need to worry.” Jaimin sat back down.

  To Elaina, the cave was nothing but a blur now, but she kept singing until it seemed her voice was someone else’s. Then she heard nothing at all, but what she felt was incredible.

  She was no longer Elaina. She was the council.

  Whatever she had been was somehow subsumed into a collective soul. Their experiences and strengths now merged, the princesses thought and sensed reality with a single mind.

  And this mind had an intention: to thank and acknowledge the additional power and support added by those called Elaina and Tori. The mind also drew energy from those who had passed on, and foresaw with joy and a bit of mystery others who would soon add their life force. The mind was the ancient shepherd of the Celmarean people. It was not the divine spirit, but it surely was its instrument.

  Time meant nothing.

  It was only when she began to personally feel the utter bliss of being one with her sisters that Elaina realized she was coming into herself again. She calmed herself bit by bit, and the others took their leave of the collective soul one by one.

  When she was ready, Elaina willed her eyes open and again perceived the cave. She was now seated on the floor: they all were. Alethea and Alessa were beaming, elated, their eyes wide. Tori’s little lips were quivering, and she had tears of joy streaming down her face. Clearly her young age hadn’t prevented her from experiencing what the others had.

  Jaimin’s heart was pounding too. From his perspective it appeared that the ladies had just gently sat down all at once—but he couldn’t deny feeling a wave of energy wash over him as they had.

  “Irestala tamikle soradum,” said Alethea. So Jaimin could understand, she added, “The council is adjourned.”

  “Princess Alessa and Princess Elaina,” said Alethea. “Today I shall present you to what remains of Arra’s court. You will always be welcome in Arra. And Alessa, you may now reveal to Elaina anything she wants to know.”

  The queen removed her Celmarean crown, examining it with pride before stowing it in its bag. Tori got up shakily and sat on a cot, fondling her new sea star pendant, while keeping a curious eye on her brother’s new girlfriend.

  Elaina stood and lifted Jaimin to his feet. She embraced him, making sure he knew that he was foremost in her thoughts.

  “We will take back the kingdom,” Alessa said to Alethea.

  “Yes,” said the queen, “but it will not be easy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Arran emergency planners had estimated the warm caves’ largest chamber could house three hundred. So far, cots for only fifty had been set up: thirty for the court survivors, and twenty on the opposite side of the room for their military custodians. Dripping ventilation shafts dotted the ceiling. Hot air leaked from cracks in the shaft walls and rose up, drawing out smoke and other pollutants, and creating a differential in air pressure that dr
ew in fresh outside air through the lower entrances. Tubes had also been drilled through the ceiling to draw in daylight. The upper openings of the shafts and light tubes were on a steep bank, not easily navigable by men or horses, reducing the chances the subterranean refuge would be detected by enemy scouts.

  The survivors were seated around the queen.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the royal court,” said the queen, “this is a day of grief for us all, and I shall make my comments brief. For over a thousand years, Arra has enjoyed peace within her borders. For over a thousand years, nations have risen and fallen around her, while she has enjoyed stability and progress. Her people have always been content, her leaders benevolent and competent. Arrans have striven to understand the mysteries of the world around them for their own protection, and for the enhancement of their happiness.”

  “Though until last night we had seen peace on this land, we have never been blind to our fragility. Strength of will and unity of spirit may bind us together, but, as we know, these virtues alone cannot deflect the aggression of outsiders. Eighteen years ago, when you came to the aid of my native land, both our nations suffered unspeakable losses. Over the years that followed, optimism took hold, and we dared hope that the conflict was over. Last night’s betrayal shattered any illusion of peace.”

  “This new battle has cost us nearly two hundred lives from our own court, hundreds from the ranks of our protectors, at least sixty brave subjects, and my dear husband, our king. I must accept responsibility for failing to protect us from this disaster.”

  The survivors looked around uncomfortably. They adored the queen, and wouldn’t think of blaming her for what had happened.

  “Yes, we were caught off guard. Nevertheless, through your resourcefulness, and with the same courageous spirit I saw in the eyes of your fathers, your uncles, and your grandfathers when they came to rescue me many years ago, you have saved yourselves—and in doing so you have saved our kingdom.”

  “I would like to acknowledge and commend two among you for their efforts” said the queen. “Kotaret, please rise.” Although Kotaret came from a long line of musicians and was an accomplished performer himself, he was prone to stage fright, and he stood with trepidation. “From what I am told,” said the queen, “you made your way through unfamiliar passages, rescuing our survivors one by one even as the castle was being overtaken. Thank you, Kotaret, for your service to us.”