by N. M. Howell
“I need to congratulate you again on this dress,” Yara said, holding Andie’s dress against her own body and spinning to bring out the true luminousness of the dress. “I can’t believe your sense of style is this good.”
“It’s not,” Carmen interjected. “I picked that. Should’ve worn it myself.”
“And I hate both of you,” Andie said with a smile, snatching the dress from Yara.
Carmen had taken Andie to the store, took one look at her figure, and chosen her dress in under five minutes. The dress was ankle-length, the color of a bronze sun. It flattered Andie in every way a dress should and complemented her hair. She thought to herself that it would probably look good with her natural hair color and her byzantium eyes, too, but that wasn’t an option. Not yet.
“Let me be the first to say it,” Yara said.
“First to say what?” Andie asked.
“How lucky you are. I’m not going to go weak in the knees when I say this, but Tarven is gorgeous.”
“I second that,” Carmen said, beginning to apply her foundation.
“I don’t want to cross any lines here, but that boy takes up half of my many, many fantasies. And of all the girls in the Academy, the University, and even Arvall, he chose you.”
“You probably don’t know this,” Carmen began, “But most of the girls at the University are wishing they were you tonight. That or wishing they could rip your heart out, but either way is a pretty good omen, I’d say.”
“I feel lucky,” Andie said. “I almost feel like I’m in a dream. And if I am I hope I won’t wake up, not this week and hopefully not at all. I’m happy, really happy for the first time in a long time and I have Tarven to thank for that. I nearly gave up waiting for him to ask.”
“Trust me, the rest of us all saw it coming,” Yara said. “I may or may not have secretly tried to poison you, but, you know, bygones and all that.”
The girls laughed and chatted excitedly about the night. Andie was anxious to see whether or not the attendees would like the crosspollinated species she and Tarven had put up. Yara and Carmen were beside themselves about the full night of dancing.
“I’m surprised you two are so excited for this,” Andie said. “I know it’s the thousandth year, but haven’t you been to this festival two or three times already?”
“Yes. And no,” Yara said.
“We usually sneak off with our dates about a third of the way through,” Carmen added. “It’s really kind of stuffy with all the professors and faculty there. All these years and we’ve never actually danced at one of these things. We come, listen to the introductions and brief, mandatory history, drink the ale, watch the faculty members take the floor, and then we disappear into the night.”
“Every time.”
“What could be more interesting than the Winter Festival?” Andie asked, incredulous.
“Nothing,” Yara said. “Absolutely nothing. Which is why we’ll be staying this year.”
“Probably,” Carmen added with a sly smile.
Carmen and Yara continued talking, but Andie became silent. An idea had dawned in her mind and it only took a few short moments for her to begin to fixate on it. If all the professors, faculty, and students were celebrating in the mirror rooms and down in the city of Arvall itself, it would mean that Leabherlann would be empty. Totally empty. In fact, she’d already read the announcement saying that the library would be closed that evening due to the celebration. As she stood there with her bronze dress draped over her arms, she knew without a doubt that she might never have that kind of opportunity again. Of course, the spells would still be in place, but there would be no eyes around. She’d have an entire night of uninterrupted time to get into the archives, open the door, and discover what the portal could tell her about herself and the world. And she had two potential accomplices standing right in front of her.
“I want you two to help me break into a place,” she said.
“Sure,” Carmen said immediately. “And right after we’ll assassinate in Taline.”
“And resurrect the dragons and bring on Amanna Deireadh,” Yara added joyously.
They laughed, playfully shoving Andie and returning to getting dressed.
“I’m serious,” Andie said, as solemn as the grave. “I want to break into somewhere inside the University that’s been sealed shut with powerful magic. If we’re suspected, we get expelled. If we’re caught, we probably get worse. I’ve tried to do it myself half a dozen times, but I need help. Two powerful sorceresses who I trust more than anyone else in the world could help me do this. If they had a mind to.”
Carmen and Yara stared at Andie for a long time. When they were satisfied she was serious, they turned to each to share something only they understood—a sort of timid curiosity perhaps—and then looked away. A few tense moments passed while Andie stood waiting, her hands anxiously made into fists and her temples beginning to sweat. Had she made a mistake?
“I’m in,” Carmen said, suddenly looking up from her feet. “If you need my help, of course I’m in. I’d do anything for you.”
“Yeah. Count me in, too,” Yara said. “You won’t be off having illegal adventures without me. You’re strong and brilliant, so whatever you’re after must be critical. I’m there.”
“Thank you,” Andie said.
She wanted to say more, but couldn’t. She was overwhelmed by her own gratitude. She looked up to see them smiling at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Yara said, coyly. “It’s just nice to see you break from the sweet, doe-eyed girl habit.”
“Agreed,” said Carmen, devilishly. “Mischievous looks good on you.”
They all smiled and held hands. Andie knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no matter what differences of unvoiced things lay between them, these girls were her friends. Her best friends.
“I’m getting too excited,” Carmen said. “Sneaking around, getting past hooded monitors. It’s more fun than I thought I’d be having tonight.”
“We usually do this stuff pretty often to hook up with boys, or drink, or whatever else we decide to get into. But breaking into the University. Priceless.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re so eager,” Andie said, beginning to enjoy herself now. “But I should warn you, it could be dangerous. There’s already powerful magic in place and there’s bound to be more of it since everyone will be out celebrating.”
“Oh. Oh, well excuse me,” Carmen said.
“Good heavens!” said Yara. “Danger? Like real danger?”
“Perhaps we’ve been too hasty accepting, darling.”
“Yes, yes, quite so, how right you are.”
“We should back out now, if at all possible. Wouldn’t want to be implicated.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no. That simply wouldn’t’ do.”
“Thank goodness we’ve come to our senses, Yara.”
“Yes, Carmen, quite fortunate, indeed. We were very nearly made criminals.”
“The shame...”
“The sheer horror...”
“Terribly nasty business...”
“Unthinkable consequences...”
“Everlasting dishonor!”
“The infamous rogues of history!”
“Forever cast out and away!”
“Totally and irrevocably unwanted!”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Andie said, laughing heartily. “I just thought you should know. No need to be so dramatic. I didn’t know you all cared this much.”
“We’re your friends, haybale,” Carmen said, leaning over to hug her.
The girls continued to chat about their plans while they finished getting dressed. Carmen handled everyone’s makeup and Yara handled their hair. They asked Andie all sorts of questions about their new mission, but she was playing it close to the chest until they made it to the portal. She trusted them, but she didn’t want to freak them out either. She hoped dearly that there wouldn’t be anyone watching the portal, but
the more she thought about it the less likely it seemed. The University was smart; they already knew that someone had been sneaking into the archives and trying to break into that room, and they would have foreseen that tonight, of all nights, would be the perfect opportunity for that person to try again (with an almost guaranteed chance of success). In addition, this was the portal of Scáthán Ama, the last extant portal in Noelle and perhaps the last one in the world—not only that, but the portal wasn’t even supposed to still exist or be in the University. They couldn’t afford to have that secret exposed.
Andie tried to stay calm. For better or worse, she was going to get into that room tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Five
After another half hour, all three girls were ready. The trio was stunning: Andie in bronze, Carmen in red, and Yara in white. They mooned over each other for a few moments and then prepared to leave.
“You two go ahead,” Andie said. “I need to do a couple things before the dance. I’ll meet you there.”
“Oh,” Yara said, raising her eyebrows and turning from Andie to Carmen. “She needs to do a couple things.”
“I’m sure,” Carmen said. “Like Tarven. And Tarven. And a little more Tarven.”
“Let’s be on our way then.”
The two girls moved to the door, leaving Andie blushing in the middle of the room. Yara left and Carmen was right behind her, but turned back around at the door.
“It’s okay for you to have fun tonight, Andie,” she said. “Everyone knows how much you care for Raesh. Even he knows it. It’s a tough situation, but nobody thinks you meant to hurt him. I don’t know if you two can ever be friends again, but he’ll heal. In time. But tonight is about you and Tarven. Just be happy.”
“Thank you, Carmen,” Andie said. “I really needed to hear that. I was hoping someone would say that and I wanted it to be you. Thank you.”
Carmen winked at her and disappeared. Andie waited a few minutes, until she was sure they’d had time to leave the building and make their way down the street, then she left. She hurried out of the elevator as the doors opened and in a matter of moments she was walking swiftly and determinedly toward her goal. It only took about fifteen minutes for her to reach it. Lymir’s tavern.
She hadn’t seen him since her first visit, having spent almost all of her time with Tarven, but after the conversations they’d had that night she was sure he’d remember her. She needed to ask him a question; he was probably the only man in all of Arvall who she could trust with this and who might actually be able to answer it. The closer she got to the tavern the more careful she became, moving in shadows and searching every passing face, discreetly but carefully, to ensure her stealth. Luckily, almost everyone was in downtown, midtown, or the west side between the sea and mountain. The celebration had virtually taken over the city. Andie couldn’t imagine how many millions of uncia it had cost.
She arrived at the tavern and entered to find it nearly empty, as usual. Lymir was standing behind the bar and as she neared him he seemed dumbfounded and more than a little surprised.
“Surely, ye be the girl who was in here askin’ all the hard questions a fortnight ago. But the lightin split me if ye aren’t not a hundred times more beautiful even now. Hearts’ll be breakin’ by the thousands just at the sight of ye.”
Andie blushed, so hard her face began to sting.
“Thank you, Lymir.”
“Don’t thank me for tellin’ things how they be. ‘at dress suits you, girl. Its color and yours be bosom buddies.”
Andie thanked him again, although for some reason she got the feeling that by “color” he hadn’t meant brown hair and green eyes. But there was no way he could know that. Still, the man was truly a mystery.
“I’m sorry Lymir, I don’t want to be rude or to rush you, but--”
“But time be of the essence. Ye need not explain to an old man. What’s botherin’ ye?”
“I know you’ve seen people get sucked up into the portal and leave this realm. But have you ever heard of anyone come through the portal into our world?”
Andie waited for his reply. Lymir seemed to be thinking hard, but Andie quickly gave up waiting; if someone had come through the portal into this realm there was no way it would be something anyone would forget. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence.
“I can’t really remember, but to give ye an answer I’d say no. Not liable to be a thing even an old man would forget. Hard to tell, though. The stories ‘ave been so many and so muddled, ‘at they sort of blend together over time. All the same, just ‘cause I never seen it doesn’t mean it never happened. I’m just one man. And I’d bet my life it were more than possible. Why ye be askin’ that?”
“No reason,” she said, not even convincing herself.
“Girl,” Lymir said, leaning toward her over the bar, “What did I tell ye the last time ye came to me wi’ questions and stories? Ye’re playin a dangerous game wi’ powerful folk, and trust me when I say they wouldn’t lose a night’s sleep after watchin’ ye burn for ‘at curiosity. There were a time when the lust for knowledge, secret or no, were counted as a skill to be proud of. But those days are far behind.”
Andie only half heeded his warning. Her mind was on the voices behind the door and their connection to the portal. Whose voices were they? Were they hurt? Where were they; here, there, some strange realm between? If she could get to the portal and open it, what could she do to help them? Could she help them?
“Thanks, Lymir,“ she said, turning. “I’ll come back to see you when I can. I promise it won’t be another two weeks.”
“Now just ye hold on a moment. Rushin’ like the hessian was after ye...”
Andie turned back.
“I’ve got somethin’ for ye. Just a minute.”
Lymir disappeared into the back room, leaving Andie to wait. She walked back and sat at the bar. A rotund sorcerer with the mark on his cheek turned to her and grinned. He was missing half of his teeth and the remaining half were as gray as a cold morning. He slid his hand along the bar until it was almost touching Andie.
“You look like a good time,” he said in a rich tenor.
“I probably am,” she replied nonchalantly.
“Tonight’s the festival. What do you say to a nice long romp with ole Trisoldan? There’s things I could show a pretty little thing like you.”
“Come closer,” she said. “Whisper some of those things in my ear.”
“Oh, I’ll do more than whisper.”
He only managed to lean over about six inches before Andie flicked her wrist. Trisoldan was thrown thirty- five feet across the length of the entire tavern. He collided with the back wall and went halfway through it before he came to a violent stop, stuck in the wall like a barbaric and grotesque decoration. Lymir walked back out to the bar, seemingly nonplussed.
“Well,” he said, “I always knew someone would give it to ‘im. Never thought a wee thing like ye would be the one. Nice work, girl.”
“Sorry about the wall.”
“Don’t bother ye head ‘bout it. I had a mind to remodel anyway. Time to class the place up a bit.”
Andie smiled. She noticed he had something in his hand; it was small and glimmering. He held out his open palm to her and she saw that it was a bracelet.
“’At’s white gold there. Can hardly find the stuff no more.”
The bracelet was beautiful, slim, made of interwoven links shaped like leaves. No, not leaves. Scales. Like a dragon’s scales. There was a small charm on the bracelet, also made of white gold, but in the shape of a sphere and on one side was an intricate stamp in the form of a dragon’s head. It was incredibly subtle and would probably go unnoticed by most. There seemed to be something inside the charm and whatever it was glowed dimly. Glowing purple.
“What is it?” she asked, mesmerized as she lifted it from his hand.
“It’s clear to me ‘at ye’ve no intentions of being careful or takin’ my advice. It’s like ye’ve become h
ellbent on annihilation. ‘erefore, ye’re goin’ to wear this and I’ll have no arg’ments ‘bout it. It’s just an old family heirloom, probably offer as much protection as a popsicle, but it’d make me feel better to know ye had it. What say ye? Will ye indulge an old man?”
“Of course I’ll wear it,” she said, putting it on right then and there. “You sure it’s just an heirloom? You seem pretty adamant to have me wear it.”
She was partly nervous to ask. Lymir was an incredibly perceptive man, for all his self-deprecating jokes about being old and dull. And he had already given several hints, though certainly minor, that he knew more about her and her mission than he was letting on. Andie had come to trust him almost instantly, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d only ever met the man twice and she had asked him some of the most dangerous questions possible. He was, after all, the owner of a rather sketchy and bleak tavern that served the very dregs of society in a less than reputable part of the city. Andie hadn’t been nearly as careful as she should have been. And to top it all off he’d given her a purple glowing charm with the stamp of a dragon’s head on it.
“Of course, it’s just mere superstition,” Lymir insisted. “Like I said, probably goin’ to be nothin’ to ye at all, but wear it all the same, eh? Set me old mind at ease a bit.”
“I won’t take it off. I promise.”
She smiled at him, a genuine smile of thanks and then got up to leave. She was still confused and suspicious, but she knew whatever the bracelet actually meant to him he was only trying to look out for her. He was no fool. After all the questions she’d been asking it wasn’t that much of a leap to think she was off galivanting through dangerous and secret places she had no business being. It was what she had been doing and what she was on her way to do at that very moment.
