“Thank you, First Wizard,” she said respectfully. “Tell me-do the girls know that they have been positively identified?”
Wigg shook his head. “No,” he said. “I thought we might bring them here to tell them. Besides, it’s time they saw the Redoubt and met the boys. Since you are First Sister, perhaps you would like to break the news yourself. It seems only fitting, don’t you agree?”
Adrian was so pleased that she didn’t know what to say. As usual, Abbey sat beside Wigg. Touching his hand, she placed her lips close to his ear.
“That was wonderful of you,” she whispered. “Sometimes you can be quite a pushover. A veryold pushover, but a pushover, nonetheless.”
Leaning toward her, Wigg smiled. “Don’t tell these women that!” he kidded back. “I have not lived among such powerful females for more than three centuries! I need to keep all the authority I can!”
Wigg, Shailiha, Abbey, Adrian, Jessamay, and Martha sat around a large meeting table. Caprice perched quietly atop Shailiha’s chair back. After confirming the girls’ identities, Wigg had summoned the women to the Hall of Blood Records. It was late afternoon of the day following the disastrous masquerade ball. But in the windowless Redoubt, time seemed meaningless.
Shailiha looked around at the chamber’s grandeur. This room was the Redoubt’s largest. To her mind, it was also the most impressive.
The floor and ceiling were of black marble, especially imported from the province of Ephyra. Encompassing all four walls were row after row of mahogany pull drawers, each with its own solid-gold handle. Each drawer was labeled with a gold plaque. The sliding compartments held copies of endowed persons’ blood signatures, sometimes referred to as blood-birth records, arranged alphabetically. Many of the fragile documents were more than three centuries old.
The table at which the five of them sat was huge, and constructed of highly polished mahogany. It was but one of many such tables here. Soft lighting was supplied by solid-gold oil lamps. As is often the case in places of learning, an indefinable mustiness hung in the air.
During the preceding night, the Minions had managed to clear the rubble and start the necessary rebuilding. After being freed from Faegan’s damaged rooms, Wigg and Jessamay had taken samples of the girls’ blood. They had then come here, to check the girls’ signatures against their blood-birth records. Sure enough, their identities were verified. Wigg and Jessamay had then used a signature scope to ensure that the signatures leaned rightward and held no Forestallments. Each was as it should be.
Wigg looked across the table at Martha. The compassionate matron smiled back joyously. She could hardly wait to be reunited with her girls. Martha’s hair had been gray for more days than she could remember, and her once-girlish figure was long gone. But her pride in her Fledglings remained steadfast.
Wigg knew that of everyone here, Martha would be the happiest to see the girls. She had practically raised Adrian-and all the rest, for that matter. Her husband Duncan had patiently taught the craft’s secrets to every girl crossing Fledgling House’s threshold. But Duncan had been brutally killed by Nicholas’ agents as Tristan’s son tirelessly constructed the Gates of Dawn. On Martha’s return to the palace, Wigg had asked her to tutor Celeste. Celeste’s unexpected death had devastated the kindly matron nearly as much as it had the First Wizard.
“Where is Faegan?” Shailiha asked. “Is he too weak to attend this meeting?”
“Oh, he’s well enough,” Wigg answered. “His burns are healing nicely. I granted him another strong anti-pain enchantment, so that he could go straight to work. At this moment he is ensconced in a Redoubt laboratory, trying to unravel the secrets of his new Forestallment. I promised him that we would join him after this meeting.”
Wigg turned to Adrian. “What are the girls’ conditions?”
Adrian smiled. “Considering all that they have suffered, they seem well,” she answered. “They are terribly thin, but that will change. The gnome wives spent all last night making new uniforms for them. Like the boys being taught here, they have been assigned personal quarters. Shawna has to keep bringing them so much food that she’s exhausted! At the princess’s suggestion, this morning I gave them a palace tour. They’re overwhelmed.”
Then Adrian’s expression darkened. “I have heard their story,” she added sadly. “It seems that there is an evil in Tammerland with which we must deal.”
Her interest piqued, Shailiha leaned forward. She was clearly tired. Sleeplessness and worry had left dark circles below her eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“With all due respect, I must defer to Mallory, Your Highness,” Adrian answered. “After she told me, she asked if she could inform you herself. It seems that you have made quite an impression on her.”
“Then it’s time we summoned them,” Shailiha said. She looked toward the doors. “Guard!” she called out.
At once the twin doors opened. Two sturdy Minion warriors strode briskly into the room, walked to Shailiha’s side, and came to attention.
“Bring the Fledgling House girls,” she ordered. “Tell them they have nothing to fear.”
The guards snapped their boot heels together. Leaving the room, they shut the doors.
Wigg looked concernedly at Shailiha. As acting regent, she would have to make another difficult decision, and quickly.
“Before the girls arrive we must discuss their fathers,” Wigg said gently.
Shailiha nodded. “We will try to break the news in the kindest possible way. Even so, it will be difficult for them to accept. Many of their fathers were killed by people at this very table. Of those remaining alive, we cannot say how many are serving Serena and the Vagaries. Neither explanation will be a welcome one.”
Wigg looked down at the tabletop for several moments, then back into the princess’s eyes.
“There’s more than that,” he said dryly.
“What do you mean?” Abbey asked.
“I’m talking about the consuls imprisoned here in the Redoubt,” Wigg said. “After each one was captured, Faegan and I examined his blood. As expected, because of Nicholas’ influence each of their signatures leans significantly leftward. Jessamay looked into their eyes, further confirming our findings. Luckily, not one holds Forestallments. We also used the craft to enter their minds, but our efforts produced little. With Wulfgar’s death, they appear leaderless. In any event, they know nothing of Serena’s plans, or of Xanthus’ appearance. I wish they could have told us more, but there it is.” Pausing for a moment, Wigg looked around the table.
“The moment we took each consul, a forgetfulness spell was enacted over him, negating his magic use,” he added. “For security reasons, each was locked away in his own windowless quarters. Two armed warriors guard every consul’s door. The consuls clearly know who they are, and they still owe their allegiance to the Vagaries. We compared their signatures to the blood-birth records stored here. In several cases, our findings yielded interesting results.”
“How so?” Shailiha asked.
Sighing, Wigg sat back in his chair. “Some of the girls’ fathers are imprisoned here, including Mallory’s.”
“Did you know Mallory’s father before he was captured?” Adrian asked.
“Yes,” Wigg answered. “I knew them all. The selection process was intimate. Each Directorate of Wizards member had a hand in it, as did Queen Morganna. After all, it was at Morganna’s insistence that Fledgling House came into existence.”
“What is the consul’s name?” Shailiha asked.
“Nathan of the House of Esterbrook,” Wigg answered. “At forty-three Seasons of New Life, his blood is strong and his intellect keen. Just as I suspect Mallory’s are.”
“Can the consuls’ blood signatures be changed to lean rightward once more?” Abbey asked. “Jessamay’s was.”
“Perhaps,” Wigg answered. “But I believe that should wait until the threat from Serena has been dealt with.”
For several moments, sil
ence again filled the room. Wigg looked into Shailiha’s eyes.
“What are your orders, Princess?” he asked.
Shailiha didn’t hesitate. “Only Mallory will be told. I believe that she is the only one mature enough to fully bear up under the news. We will let her see her father, if she chooses. But we will tell her about him in private. If she wishes to inform the other girls later, that will be her decision.”
As her thoughts turned to her brother, Shailiha’s face saddened. “I take it there has been no word from Traax?” she asked.
“No,” Wigg answered. “But we must not give up hope. It is possible that Traax’s group has yet to reach the pass, or that they were distracted by something important along the way. Traax is an able warrior. When he has something newsworthy to relate, he will send a messenger.”
Shailiha couldn’t help addressing the darker question. “Do you believe we’ll see Tristan again?” she asked softly.
Wigg laced his fingers together. “I do not want to offer false hope, Princess. But your brother is a resourceful man, and it seems that the Heretics have some plan for him. At the very least they want him alive and unharmed.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jessamay added. “All we can do is wait and see.”
“No,” Shailiha said adamantly. “We can do more than that. We will attack the Citadel, just as he asked us to do. As we speak, Tyranny is readying the Black Ships. We sail as soon as possible.”
A knock came on the door. Calling out, Shailiha granted permission to enter.
The doors opened to show the eight Fledglings, accompanied by the warriors Shailiha had sent to fetch them. Each girl wore a uniform like the one she had donned at Fledgling House-a white blouse, a blue-and-gray plaid pleated skirt, and shiny black shoes. Each crisp blouse carried a bright red image of the Paragon embroidered over its wearer’s heart.
Like they had just encountered another world, the Fledglings gazed wide-eyed into the magnificent Hall of Blood Records. When they spied Martha, their decorum vanished.
“Martha!” they screamed. “Martha! Martha!” Charging around both sides of the table, they joyously deluged her.
Hugging her girls incessantly, Martha soon had tears running down her face. Shailiha wisely decided to let the affectionate reunion run its course.
When things had quieted, Shailiha politely commanded the girls’ attention. Suddenly remembering themselves, Mallory and Ariana blushed. Shailiha looked at the two guards.
“Please seat our guests,” she ordered. When more chairs had been situated at the table, the girls took their places. Leaving the room, the guards shut the doors behind them.
One by one, Shailiha smiled into each new face. She then nodded at Adrian.
“We have learned that you are indeed who you claim to be,” the First Sister said. Lifting her hands, she graciously gestured about the room. “Welcome to the Redoubt.”
The girls beamed. “Thank you, First Sister,” Mallory said. “On behalf of all the Fledglings, it is an honor to be here.”
Shailiha smiled. She is indeed their leader, she realized. The princess gave Mallory a thoughtful look.
“Sister Adrian tells us that you have told her your story,” she said. “I would like you to tell the rest of us. But before you do, would each girl please give her name?”
One by one the girls identified themselves. They were Mallory, Ariana, Magdalene, Deirdre, Carol, Daisy, Constance, and Scarlet. Suddenly remembering Duncan, Mallory gave Martha an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We loved Duncan very much.”
Martha nodded wistfully. “Don’t be sorry,” she answered. “What happened was not your doing. Duncan would be happy to know that we are all back together again.”
Shailiha looked at Mallory again. “Now then, please tell us your story,” she said.
Mallory nodded. She spoke for a full hour beginning the tale with their departure from Fledgling House. Even though the part about being in debtors’ prison personally embarrassed her, she left nothing out. After finishing she sat back in her chair.
Mallory’s story clearly enraged Shailiha. Leaning closer, the princess looked into the Fledgling’s eyes.
“Do you believe Lothar is dead?” she asked.
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t know. Ariana and I combined our bolts, so it’s possible. He was unconscious and his clothes were smoldering. I believe several guards died, though. They had to-the flames overtaking the floor were too intense.”
Shailiha looked over at Wigg. “Did you know that such things were going on?” she asked.
Wigg scowled. “Not to such a degree. But for as long as I can remember, our justice system has been seriously flawed. The debtors’ prison will be a good place to start forcing some changes.” Looking wryly at the door, Wigg thought about the Minion warriors standing on its other side.
“And I know just how to go about it,” he added. “By the way-who is the woman who brought the girls here?”
Adrian started to speak, then looked down at her hands. She blushed noticeably.
Smiling, Wigg leaned forward in his chair. “Out with it,” he said.
“It seems that Mary is Tammerland’s foremost brothel madam,” she answered. “She has apparently acquired girls from Lothar in the past.”
“Are you telling us that she is also a slave trader?” Shailiha asked. “If so, then she is no better than Lothar.”
“Not exactly,” Adrian answered. “True, she has paid Lothar for girls. But she always offers them their freedom. It seems that she is some kind of angel of mercy-despite her occupation.”
“How curious,” Abbey said. “Does she expect a reward?”
“No,” Adrian answered. “I believe that she was simply glad to have been of service. To hear her tell it, she hates Lothar as much as anyone.”
“The proverbial whore with a heart of gold?” Shailiha asked rhetorically. “How interesting… When next you see her, thank her. Reward her for her kindness, then send her on her way.”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Adrian answered.
Knowing that her next task would be difficult, Shailiha looked at the Fledglings. “It is time to tell about your fathers,” she said. “I’m sorry, but this will be painful to hear.”
Shailiha gently told them the full story-first about how their fathers had been turned to the Vagaries by Nicholas, then the tale of Wulfgar, then how the Conclave had used Satine’s list to hunt down the consuls hiding in safe houses. She told them that some of their fathers might still live, serving Serena at the Citadel. Last she related how Xanthus had taken the prince, and that the Citadel was about to be attacked.
By the time she finished, all the girls had teary eyes. But they also bore the news bravely. The princess looked at Martha.
“These girls have been through enough for one day,” she said. “Please return them to their quarters.”
As the girls rose to leave, Shailiha touched Mallory’s arm. “Please stay,” she said softly.
Mallory immediately obeyed her princess and reclaimed her seat. Once Martha had ushered the girls out, Shailiha looked Mallory in the eyes.
“We have information particular to you,” she said gently. “We wanted to inform you in private. You will find it bittersweet.”
Mallory didn’t know what to say. After searching every face at the table, she looked back at Shailiha.
“Is it about my father?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“Yes,” Shailiha answered. “But take heart. Nathan lives.”
Mallory tried to hold back her tears. “Where is he?” she asked.
“He is imprisoned here in the Redoubt,” Wigg answered. “Like the other consuls, he now practices the Vagaries.”
Thunderstruck, Mallory sat back in her chair. Like a true acolyte, she did her best to regain her composure.
“Do you wish to see him?” Wigg asked. “Before you answer, please be aware that he is probably little like you remember. N
or do we know how he will react to your presence. Seeing him again might be disturbing.”
“I don’t know…” Mallory answered. “I’ve wished for this moment for so long. But now…”
“Take all the time you need,” Wigg said. “Perhaps waiting is for the best, anyway. Besides, there’s someone else you must meet. I promised we would join him after we concluded our meeting.”
Mallory wiped her eyes. “Who is it?”
“Another wizard,” Wigg answered. “He is amazingly eccentric, not to mention brilliant. I believe you’ll like him. He’s working on something special.” He gave Mallory a wink. “Perhaps by now he’s ready to explain his findings to us lesser mortals.”
Wigg stood and walked to her chair. He graciously held out his arm. “Shall I escort you?” he asked.
Mallory cleared her throat and smiled again, then stood and wrapped one arm through his. “It would be my honor,” she answered.
Without further ado, Wigg led the group from the room. Shailiha was the last to go.
Fluttering from her perch atop Shailiha’s chair, Caprice took to the air. As she followed her mistress through the open doors, the warriors closed them behind her.
CHAPTER XVIII
TRISTAN UNTIED THE CANTEEN FROM HIS SADDLE ANDopened it to take a drink. No matter how much he consumed, the same amount of water always remained-telling him that Xanthus was using the craft to ensure that the canteen stayed full. After retying it to his saddleback, he looked up at the cloudless sky.
It was late afternoon, and the sun would soon disappear behind the western horizon. Riding side by side, they had traveled northwest all day, along the Sippora’s western bank. Tristan was surprised to notice that today the foliage lying before them did not wither. The river did not still, and the birds and insects still chirped their customary sounds-all despite Xanthus’ presence.
Since yesterday, they had met no one. Tristan was grateful, for Xanthus would surely have tortured them. They had stopped only once, to rest their horses and take a midday meal. The Darkling had said next to nothing all day, leaving Tristan alone with his thoughts.
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