by Becky Allen
The group was quiet, even the children. They were wide-eyed, staring up at her, and she wondered what they’d expected. Someone older, probably, like Lenni. A leader, someone they could trust. Not her—young, nervous, awkward under their expectations. But she was the mage. She was the one who’d broken the Curse. They’d come here for her.
She made herself breathe, wishing Elan was with her. When she couldn’t find the words for what was needed, he always seemed to. She glanced at Karr, but he was waiting just as expectantly.
Finally she spoke, forcing her voice to carry even though she was unused to letting it fill the quiet corners of a room. “My name is Jae, of Aredann. I’m a Closest. And I’m a mage.”
As she always did, she held out her hands. This time, though, she didn’t close her eyes. It was so much easier now that the Curse was gone and the Closest’s energy was unfettered. She imagined a flower, grew it in her mind, but with so many people looking on, she didn’t know if that would be enough. So she grew vines, too, long and chilly but smooth, let them climb her arms, pinching the sleeves of her robe inward.
The vines encircled her, wrapping down her bodice as she breathed and let them, feeling as if she herself was one of them. A vine, a weed, unwanted in the Avowed’s gardens. She’d survived anyway, grown strong even when they’d tried to pluck her away, starve her, kill her. Weeds took hold, and if they were left unchecked, they thrived and took over entire gardens.
Yes, Jae was a weed. And as the vine wrapped around her waist, coming to rest at last, she found herself at peace.
Everyone watched her in awe now. She nodded, confirming whatever it is they were thinking but would never ask. Yes, she’d broken the Curse. She’d struck back at the Highest, felling one of them. Yes, she would lead them to victory.
“All the Closest here are training so we can fight. We’ve all gathered together, and if we fight together, we will win. We will never be enslaved again.”
That earned not cheering, but nods and gestures, a few murmured words. Clenched fists from those who wanted to fight, anxious looks between others.
“We’ll begin a meal for you now, and any who wish to may help with its preparation. You must be hungry,” she continued. “You are safer here than you have ever been before. Please rest.”
There wasn’t really room for them to lie down, stretch out, but they must have been weary after traveling. Especially after the losses they must have suffered, fighting their way free, fighting just to get here—and now they could relax, because they’d seen her. She hadn’t understood that at first, but Karr had helped her see it their way. The Closest would die to defend their freedom, but they’d never had it before. They needed a goal and a leader, someone to point the way as they figured out for themselves what they wanted—as individuals, as families, as a community.
“Perhaps you should sleep, too, Lady Mage,” Karr said, as he helped Jae down.
“Lady Mage!” One of the members of the Order ran toward them in the hall. “Elan is back. He’s waiting in the small study; he asked me to gather you and the others.”
Jae wasn’t sure if she was more relieved or nervous, and nodded. “Thank you. I should…” She glanced at Karr.
“Go,” Karr said. “I’ll set things in order here and then join you, if you don’t mind, Lady Mage.”
“Thank you,” she said again, and let…Casinn, that was the Order member’s name, lead her out. They parted ways down the hall, him to find the other members of the Order, and her to the study, where Elan was indeed waiting. He was sitting on one of the cushions, looking tired, his hair pulled back and his face in shadows. His muddy cloak had been tossed down next to him, and he was examining a sheaf of papers, squinting.
“Perhaps it’ll be easier to read in the daylight,” she suggested.
He looked up, startled, and the levity in his voice was forced as he said, “You snuck up on me again. Of course you did.”
She shrugged a tiny bit. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she didn’t know what to say, either. It had never been like this between the two of them before. Finally she pointed to another cushion and said, “I could…sit.”
He let out a breath and nodded, so she did. Near him, but not close enough to touch.
“Elthis is dead,” he said, when she didn’t say anything else. “Erra is alive. She’s the Highest now.”
“Oh,” Jae said, not sure how to respond, no idea how Elan felt about any of it. He was furious at his father, but he’d believed in his sister. But if she’d now taken up their father’s title, then the chances of being able to get word to her, or bring her over to their side, were vanishingly small. Jae wasn’t sure they’d ever been higher, but Elan had insisted so many times.
“She might still…” He trailed off, shrugging awkwardly. “I left a message at Andra’s workshop, but Andra’s at the estate house with Erra. I don’t know if she’ll get it. I don’t know…”
“Then you must think she didn’t get the last message,” Jae said.
“She couldn’t have,” Elan said. “Andra left me a note and didn’t mention it, so she must not have been able to deliver it in time.”
Jae didn’t say anything to that. She hoped he was right, that Erra just hadn’t gotten their plea for a meeting, but inwardly she didn’t think the message would have made a difference. Everyone said Erra was much more like their father than she was like Elan—even Elan admitted that. Jae couldn’t imagine anyone like Elthis caring more about the truth than about holding power.
“There were more ancient writings hidden in Andra’s room,” Elan continued, after a long pause. “Some of the Order’s saved papers. I think they may have been about Aredann…actually, now that makes sense. I had no idea where Erra had found all those old papers about Aredann and magic she sent me off with, but she probably got them from Andra, who got them from Lenni.”
“Ah,” Jae said. She had never even thought to wonder, but it was one of those papers where she’d seen an inked drawing of the fountain that sat in Aredann’s courtyard. That had led her to examine the fountain, since she had no idea what the papers meant, and that was how she’d stumbled over the Closest’s hidden magic. Without those ancient, carefully preserved pages, she’d never have gained her magic and broken the Curse. Without the Order’s help, even though she hadn’t known about them at the time…
“Elan, welcome back,” Lenni said. “Next time, I would appreciate it if you’d tell me you were leaving. We could have slipped a dozen spies into the city. You didn’t need to go.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, voice final.
“Well. Next time, then.” Lenni’s voice was just as short, the attempt at pleasantness in it poorly faked.
Palma joined them a moment later, yawning noisily, Casinn at her side. They both took cushions, Palma sitting near enough to Elan to place a hand lightly over his. He pulled his away.
Karr joined them a minute later. Jae caught his gaze, glad to have him there. She trusted Elan, but it was a relief to have another Closest in the room, someone who understood her in a way Elan couldn’t.
“What did you find out?” Lenni said.
“Danardae is in bad shape,” Elan said. “I didn’t see the other cities, so I don’t know if they had problems, too, but the rioting must have spread out of the park, because every street I saw was wrecked. There was so much damage.”
He described it quickly—the broken walls and windows, the curfew and guards out walking the streets, the way everyone had been so scared and so ready for war. Finally he just shook his head a little. “I don’t know what I’d hoped, but from everything I saw…Danardae is on the brink. I think one more gust will turn it into a storm, and the Highest want to unleash that storm on us. It’ll be easy for them to enlist the Twill to help fight.”
“But this isn’t our fault,” Casinn said. “The Twill should blame the Highest, not us.”
“But they don’t,” Lenni said. “And even if we told them how the Highest have bee
n lying, they wouldn’t believe it, or they wouldn’t care. It’s easier to blame the Closest. It just is.”
Jae glanced at Karr, who was listening intently but silently.
“Not once they get to know…,” Casinn said, and he glanced at Karr, too.
“No one is going to get to know a Closest,” Palma said.
Karr’s expression finally twitched minutely. One of his hands tapped against his thigh for a moment. That was the only sign of his reaction—silent, understated. Jae wondered if anyone else even noticed it, but she could see his annoyance.
“We need to strike now, before the Avowed and Highest get organized,” Lenni said. “If the Twill are so terrified, we can use that against them—give them something real to be afraid of. The panic will make it harder for the Highest to maintain control—that will hit the other three cities. And as things fall apart behind the walls, we’ll be preparing. We can end this quickly.”
“I’d like to know what you’re thinking,” Jae said. “About giving them something to fear.”
“Actually, sending Elan into the city through the aqueduct just gave me the idea,” she said. “Because the one thing the Twill and Avowed believe, above everything else, is that the Highest control the Well. All you have to do is show them the truth by draining the reservoirs. Then the whole world will know that you control the Well, and the Highest don’t.”
Jae stared at her, marveling, but she could remember too many dry days, dancing on the edge of sunsickness. She’d survived an estate with a drying reservoir. What Lenni proposed was horrific.
“It’s still raining,” Lenni said, after a long silence. “You won’t do real harm—though I bet you can cause rain. If you could stop it…we could really weaken them, then. They’d be out of food and water both in short order. There’s been one riot already. There’ll be another in no time at all, and the Highest would destroy their own base of support putting it down.”
“I can’t stop the rain,” Jae said, sharp. “And I wouldn’t, even if I could.” She could almost feel Tal’s nod of approval at that.
“I would,” Karr said.
Everyone turned to him, surprised. Jae cocked her head, waiting for him to say more.
“I’ve never lived a day unafraid,” Karr said, his gaze meeting Jae’s. “I’d let them know what that’s like.”
“Precisely,” Lenni said. “Jae…”
“And you explained the binding to me,” Karr continued. “That it depends on the Closest bloodlines. If we die, the Well comes unbound—they need to know that, and believe it. We make them afraid, and we make our point. If they fight us, they will lose, no matter what.”
“They will fight us,” Lenni said. “We know that. We have to win, no matter what, and we can use the chaos to our advantage. If you can’t stop the rain, I still think draining the reservoir will be enough.”
Elan shook his head a little. “I don’t like this. We might still be able to convince Erra—”
“You still think that, even now that she’s the Highest?” Lenni interrupted, incredulous. “When they bring their army against us, she’ll be leading it.”
“She might not,” Elan said. “We don’t know that for sure. She doesn’t know the truth—”
“Are you so sure of that?” Lenni asked. “She’s taken up Elthis’s title, his responsibilities. The other Highest may well have told her anything she didn’t know. She never answered your letter. She let the attempted slaughter of the Closest happen before the Break. She has done nothing, nothing to show that she could be brought to our side.”
No one in the room said anything to that for a long moment, not even Elan. The anger in his expression turned to pain, one Jae knew only too well. She’d lost her sibling, too. At last he nodded, and said, voice hoarse, “I understand we can’t act as if she’ll be an ally. But if she does reach out to me…”
“Yes, we’ll see what we can do then,” Lenni said, but the dismissiveness in her voice made it clear how likely she thought that was. “Then we’re decided. Lady Mage, Elan can help you write a message about the binding, and the Order will see to it that it’s delivered—maybe we can use that aqueduct. We’ll send it as soon as it’s done, and you can drain the reservoir tomorrow, first thing.”
“Are we decided?” Karr asked, though only a few people in the room seemed to realize how strong a point he was making by asking it as a question. “Lady Mage, you didn’t say.”
Palma rolled her eyes, and Lenni’s expression went unreadable. “Of course. Jae, I assume you agree.”
“Yes,” she said. “I do. But…thank you, Karr.”
He nodded.
“Until tomorrow, then,” Lenni said, standing. She swept out, Palma and Casinn following, then Karr.
Jae glanced at Elan. She’d need his help to write the message to the Highest—not just with the actual writing, as she couldn’t do that at all, but with the words. He was much better than she was at that kind of thing.
But now they were alone together again, and her pulse sped up as she realized it. He must have, too, because he looked away from her suddenly. She wanted to say something but couldn’t—she didn’t know what to say at all, didn’t even know what she felt. She didn’t want this, though, the strangeness between them. Elan was her friend and she needed him.
“Jae,” he finally said. “About…about before I left, when I kissed—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. She could feel panic at the edge of her mind again, a storm on the horizon.
He hesitated, then said, “I only…I won’t. But please let me say this one thing.”
Her stomach churned, but she nodded.
“I…I care for you, quite a bit,” he said. “But I don’t expect anything from you. We both have too many other things to think about anyway, and I won’t bring it up again. I’ll never, never kiss you or…or anything else, ever again, and I’ll still be here for anything you need, anything I can do. It’s all right if you want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I just had to say that so you know—you know how I feel. In case you feel the same. But it’s all right if you don’t.”
She stared a little, trying to hold off the anxiety, trying to make herself focus and understand. The words had washed over her, too much for her to take in, but she grasped for the few that made sense. That Elan wouldn’t do it again. She could pretend it hadn’t happened.
She really, really wanted to pretend that. So she nodded.
“I…It’s all right,” she finally said. “You’re my friend. That’s all.”
“If you’d like, I’m sure Lenni or Palma could help you with the letter instead—if you don’t want me near you.”
“No,” she said quickly, and focused on breathing for a moment. She could feel the ground under her feet, the air around her. She was fine. She was. “It’s fine. Let’s just put it out of our minds.”
He nodded, his kind features gone serious, and he reached for the writing supplies. “If that’s what you want, then let’s get to work.”
“Highest!”
An Avowed scrambled into Erra’s study, where she’d been meeting with Desinn Loerdan, who’d been at Aredann with her father, and several of her father’s other trusted advisors. She looked up in irritation, but the man didn’t even stop to catch his breath, let alone apologize for the intrusion.
“The reservoir—it’s—come quick, Lady, hurry! It’s all gone!”
Erra shot to her feet, instincts taking over. It was all she could do to keep herself to a quick walk, not a run, at the awful idea that something had happened to the reservoirs—but her father wouldn’t have run. It wasn’t dignified, and no crisis was more important than keeping the world’s confidence.
A crowd had gathered before she reached the remnants of the park that overlooked the reservoirs, and her heart thudded as she saw. It was dim out, clouds covering the sun, though not thick enough that it threatened to rain just yet. But where there should have been the water of the reservoir, there was only silty,
sandy mud and strange weeds curled in on themselves, drying for the first time. There was still a small ring of water around the central island, but that was all. Hardly enough to sustain the city for a day, let alone longer.
Horror hit her as she realized that the Highest might not be able to change this. The world thought they could—they needed the world to believe that. But after what Gesra and the others had told her…
She looked up at the clouds. It might rain. That would help. But…
The Closest mage had done this. She’d interfered with the Well, the delicate system of ducts and channels and reservoirs that kept the world safe from the desert. They had relied on it for generations. Now the water was gone.
She felt sick, suddenly, overwhelmed, and she desperately wished her father was there. He’d know exactly what to do, what to say. How to handle this.
She needed the other Highest, immediately, and turned to the nearest Avowed, not caring who it was. “Get Tarrir here, now, and Gesra and Callad—get messages going, move!”
The Avowed fled, grabbing others to help carry out the order. Erra gaped at the empty reservoir for a moment longer, then turned to see the people staring. Not just at the muddy hole in the world where their water should have been, but at her, too. Waiting for her to address them, to reassure them. Like her father would have.
She peered into the crowd. Halann was there with Efenn in his arms, and Andra, holding Jarren. Andra looked stricken. That was what finally got Erra talking—maybe she couldn’t reassure the whole world, but she could reassure Andra.
“We will handle this,” she said, trying to make her voice as thunderous as her father’s always had been. Trying to make the lie as believable as possible. “The mage thinks she can interfere, but the Well is ours. Our loyal people will never go without, and the traitors responsible will be punished.” She didn’t spare a look back at the empty reservoir. “Their ancestors tried to take the Well from us once—and fell. We were merciful then. We will not be this time.”
Someone in the crowd actually cheered, and Erra nodded curtly, not saying anything more. Halann fell into step with her as she strode back toward the house. Her mind was already racing, trying to anticipate what the other Highest would plan in retaliation for this—the Closest were gathering to the west of Danardae; there would have to be a way to attack them without the Closest knowing they were coming….
