“No,” I whispered, my knees buckling. “No . . .” I bit back the words “it’s all my fault,” but that didn’t stop them resounding in my head. A sob rose in my throat, and I broke into tears. Master Foris led me to a couch I hadn’t noticed before. He held an arm around my shoulders as I wept, all the time muttering soothing words in a language I didn’t understand. It felt as if I were betraying Breyard to allow myself to be comforted by this man who had willingly turned him over to the Royal Guard, but I couldn’t help it.
Eventually, I regained control. Master Foris wiped the tears from my cheeks with the sleeve of his robe.
“There. Now you’ve got that out of your system.” He took my hands in his. “I will make arrangements for you to go to the retreat house. It will be better for you to be away from here until the furore settles. You can continue your studies there, but still remain secluded. How does that sound?”
All I knew right then was that I wanted to be far, far away from here. I nodded.
When Master Foris went to the door to call for Isol, I quickly wiped my nose on the inside of my own sleeve. I couldn’t believe it. This time yesterday, my biggest care was whether I’d remember all the herbal properties Master Larmstro, the healing master, had lectured on the previous day. Now I was personally responsible for my brother’s arrest and probable execution. A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Right now, I had to figure out a way to make things right again.
The master turned back to me. “You are, of course, excused from the rest of your classes today. I will have meal trays sent to your room. You can pack this afternoon, and we’ll send you off tomorrow morning.”
Master Foris led me out of his office and through the antechamber, then closed the door softly behind me. The wood seemed to vibrate in sympathy as the catch clicked into place.
I wandered in a daze. One corridor led to the refectory, but just the thought of food made my stomach turn. After more aimless wandering, I found myself at the head of the corridor that led to the boys’ block. I stood staring. Was it only last night that Breyard had led me down here in that mad dash? I’d been so angry with him. A sob caught in my throat, and I turned and ran to my own cell.
I slammed the door behind me, not caring that it echoed loudly off the walls. I threw myself onto my cot and wept without restraint. With no one there to see me—or comfort me—I didn’t bother with trying to control my emotions or maintain my dignity. I didn’t even care if someone outside my room heard me.
When I seemed to have cried my eyes dry, I rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, thinking through everything that had happened. And no matter what angle I looked at it from, I kept coming to the same conclusion: it was all my fault.
I should have realized it really was a dragon egg right from the start and made Breyard get rid of it. Or I should have said something to one of the masters; they’d have gotten the truth from him and somehow managed to sort everything out. Or at the very least, I should have helped Breyard clean his room afterwards. And I definitely should have kept my mouth shut and not told my friends. Why hadn’t I thought of any of this when it would have made a difference?
Eventually, I got up, went to the desk, and opened the top drawer. Clarity. That’s what I needed right now. I pulled the lavender tapers out of the drawer and noticed the dark blue resourcefulness ones beneath them. Hmmm. Interesting combination.
A rap on the door startled me, and I dropped the candles back into the drawer, almost guiltily. I opened the door to find a lad from the kitchen standing there with a luncheon tray.
“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him.
“Welcome,” he muttered, then looked up at me with large, dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry, miss.”
“What for?” Had he helped himself to some of the food? If so, he was welcome to it; I had no appetite, and besides, he looked scrawny.
“About your brother, miss. We heard in the kitchen. “Tisn’t fair, a good man like Breyard.”
I almost smiled at hearing my brother called a man. “Thank you . . . what’s your name, anyway?”
“Traz, miss.”
“Well, thank you very much, Traz.” I set the tray on my desk, then turned back to the door, where the boy continued to stand watching me with his huge eyes.
“Come in, Traz. Tell me what you know of Breyard.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, miss. I daren’t. Need to get back to the kitchen.”
I felt a twinge of disappointment. It would’ve been good to hear someone speak kindly of my brother. “Well, all right, but maybe another time?”
Traz grinned enthusiastically, and, with a quick nod, disappeared down the corridor. I shut the door, wondering what he knew—and how—about Breyard.
Back at my desk, I tried a bite of the meatroll, but it was dry and tasteless in my mouth. I washed it down with some apple juice, then decided to go ahead with meditation.
Clarity. And resourcefulness. Trying not to think about what I was doing, I took both sets of candles from the drawer. I didn’t have an extra set of silver candlesticks—silver for Autumn—so I grabbed the first that came to hand: crystal, for Spring. Well, I was taking liberties no matter how you looked at it. I didn’t see how things could get any worse than they already were.
After lighting all four candles, I sat on the meditation mat, breathing in the scents of thyme and rosemary that filled the air. A strange feeling of both calm and excitement flowed through me.
Clear my thoughts.
I slipped into my calm center with more ease than ever.
Breathe deeply.
A slow breath in followed by a slower breath out. Another. An unfamiliar vibration tickled my senses. Another breath.
With the next exhalation, my spirit seemed to slip out of my body like the air out of my lungs.
I walked through a wood. Sunlight shone through the green canopy above and made the fallen Autumn leaves gleam like gold. Energy flowed all around me, through me, strengthening me. Light from my soul danced with the spirits of the trees. I possessed power, power enough to do what must be done. Something unseen, unfelt, unpresent called to me.
“Time to rise up, fulfill your destiny.” “I have no destiny. I am no one.” Those were the words I meant to say, but what came out was, “I hear. I follow.”
“You do not follow; you lead.” The unspoken words echoed in my ears.
Suddenly I felt as if I were waking up, though I still sat upright on the meditation mat. The candles had burnt away to nothing. I blinked. Had I gone into a trance? How could I have? I had no training for that, had never even seen it done by someone else.
But in that instant, I knew with certainty that I could make everything right. I must. For I was responsible for it going wrong.
Sometime after the supper tocsin sounded, someone knocked on my door. It was Traz with my supper and another servant with my trunk. I couldn’t eat with my mind whirling with plans, so I set the tray on my desk and instead of eating, I packed in a frenzy. Had I dawdled, it still wouldn’t have taken long. Novices didn’t have much. Two robes besides the one I was wearing, a heavy cloak for bad weather, my books and writing tools. In the morning, I’d pack my night things, and that would be it.
I’d just closed the trunk when another knock came on my door. Assuming it was someone come to collect the supper tray, I picked it up and opened the door. But instead of Traz or a servant, there stood my friends. From the shocked looks on their faces, it was obvious they’d heard the news. They came in. Loreen and Sira sat on my cot, Marileesa on the trunk, and I on my chair. For a moment we all sat in uncomfortable silence.
Then tears sprang into Loreen’s eyes. “Oh, Donavah. How can you stand it? Just the thought of them—” Sira’s elbow jabbing into Loreen’s ribs cut her off. She gulped and completely broke down.
“
Loreen!” Marileesa snapped. “Pull yourself together. Donavah needs us all to be strong for her.” She didn’t say, “Haven’t you done enough?” but the words seemed to hang in the air as if she had.
A lump rose unexpectedly in my throat, making my words thick as I said, “I don’t want to talk about it, all right? For now, I’m going to the retreat house. Master Foris thought it would be better for me to go away for awhile.”
Loreen sniffled. “You’re going away?”
I nodded. “Tomorrow morning. But I’ll be back soon.” How was it I could lie to my best friends so easily?
In the end, there didn’t seem much to say, and the girls left. But their simply coming had meant more than any conversation could have.
Talisman and Queen is an ancient and popular game of strategy. Its origins lie in the depths of time, when suitors gave small gifts—symbols of themselves and their love—to the women they courted. A knight might give a hand-carved wooden dagger; a bard, a tiny lyre. A woman would carry a talisman publicly to show which man she favoured.
As more than one man might—and often did—pursue the same woman, the giving and displaying of these gifts became strategic elements in the game of love.
And, ultimately, they also became the foundation of the game of Talisman and Queen, in which the player who wins is the one whose Talismans “Secures the Queen’s Heart.”
~from A History of Games
When I got up in the morning, I changed into the traveling clothes I’d left unpacked. It felt a little strange to be wearing trousers and a tunic. Would I ever change into a novice’s robe in this cell again? No point in following that line of thinking.
On my way to breakfast, I found Traz carrying another tray in the direction of my cell. He stopped when he saw me.
“You’re coming to table, miss?”
I smiled as he turned around to walk next to me. “Don’t think I’ll get another chance to say goodbye to my friends. My trunk has already been taken away, and I expect I’ll be off myself soon.”
“Indeed, miss,” he said, bobbing his head.
“Look, Traz, why don’t you eat that food. You look like you could use another meal on your bones.”
“Oh, no, miss. They’ll see you at table and will know you didn’t eat this. I’ll just take it back to the kitchen.”
He really was a skinny lad. I stopped him and rummaged around on the tray, taking a whole-wheat roll and some fruit. “There. You met me in the corridor, and I just took a few things, and now you’ll take the tray back.” I tucked the food into the pocket of his worn but clean tunic. “You needn’t tell them I didn’t eat what I took.”
Traz grinned. “Thanks, miss.”
“Now, back to the kitchen with you, before I report you for loitering!” He giggled as he scampered off. There was something appealing about the boy. I almost wished he were my little brother. I watched him go, sorry I wouldn’t get a chance to become better acquainted with him.
In the refectory, my entrance was greeted with a sudden hush. No one looked directly at me, but I knew that everyone was watching nonetheless. I held my head up as I walked towards where my friends sat waiting for me. The last thing I wanted to do was to appear guilty—no matter how I actually felt.
I sat down next to Marileesa, who wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “You just see if it won’t.”
“Yes, you’re right,” I said. “It will.” Ever since last night’s meditation and trance, or whatever it was, a residual sense of certainty had settled on me, making me confident that my plan, however improbable it might seem, would work. Everything would be all right. I hugged Marileesa back. “Let’s eat.”
I tried to nibble on a pear, while my friends dug in to their breakfasts. By this time, the shock of my arrival seemed to have worn off, and the noise level returned to normal, although I occasionally caught a surreptitious glance shot my way.
“So what are you going to do?” Marileesa asked.
I sat up and straightened my shoulders. “I’m going to prove that Breyard is innocent and get him set free.” A long silence followed this pronouncement.
Loreen cleared her throat. “How’re you going to do that?”
Before I could answer, Sira said, “You don’t have much time. I overheard some of the masters saying that the king wants Breyard tried and convicted . . .” her voice dropped to a whisper and she didn’t meet my eye, “. . . by Emancipation Day.”
“Emancipation Day?” My brain whirled, and I pressed my hands onto the tabletop to steady myself. “That’s only a month away!” On foot, I couldn’t reach Penwick, the capital of Alloway, that quickly, much less find the evidence I would need to prove Breyard’s innocence. I struggled to quell the fear within.
The bell calling everyone to classes would sound any minute now, so I started to say my farewells. When it finally did ring, everyone stood up and headed towards the doors. I hugged each of my friends, wiping away more of Loreen’s tears with my sleeve. I held Marileesa longest, trying to draw some of her strength into myself. Then we kissed each other’s cheeks, and a moment later, all my friends were gone.
I meandered through the corridors, feeling sure I was seeing them for the last time. This brought memories flooding back. Memories of Breyard showing me around the academy the day of my arrival, smug in his big-brotherly superior knowledge. Memories of the first times I wandered the corridors alone, terrified of getting lost. And memories of whispered conversations with my friends—especially about boys.
When I arrived back at the cell I no longer considered mine, I sighed. How would Mama and Papa react to the news that their only son had been arrested, that their only daughter had disappeared? A lump rose in my throat, and I tried to hold back the threatening tears. Everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong from what we all expected.
Admittedly, it was unusual that our parents had sent both of their children to a magic academy, leaving no offspring to take over the small family farm. There had been much whispering and gossip about it in the village.
But Grella, our village magician and my tutor, said not to worry, perhaps Papa was especially proud that both of his children had such strong magic when he and Mama had none. That had satisfied me at the time, but now I began to wonder.
Still, I knew that I had to go after Breyard. There wasn’t enough time to go home to Barrowfield first. And how pleased our parents would be if I succeeded. When, I corrected myself; when.
Lost in thought, imagining the joyful family reunion, a knock on the door startled me, and Isol came in.
“The wagon has arrived. Are you ready?”
I stood up. “Out front in the usual place?”
Isol nodded. “Here. I had this prepared for your journey.” She handed me a large pouch. “It should keep you until supper at the house.”
I left the cell, a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“Donavah?” I turned and faced her. “I do hope everything works out. For the best, I mean.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you, Isol. I’m quite sure it will.” Doubt assailed my heart, but I ignored it. It had become important to me to look calm and collected, no matter how torn up I felt inside. As if the pretence would make it real.
Just outside the main entrance, I found the wagon heaped with sacks and crates. I was apparently to be delivered to the retreat house along with supplies. I made sure my trunk hadn’t been forgotten, then clambered onto the seat. A stiff, old man climbed aboard next to me, picked up the reins, and clucked the horses into motion.
The weather couldn’t have been better for a trip in an open wagon. It was warm for an Autumn day, but definitely not hot. Puffy clouds hung in the bright blue sky, and a fresh breeze mussed my hair a bit.
As we took to the road, I took a deep breath
. Since coming back to Roylinn at the end of Summer, I hadn’t spent as much time outdoors as I’d been accustomed to over the break, but I’d been so absorbed in my studies that I hadn’t noticed. Now the smell of the mown hayfields brought back memories of rest-day family picnics when Breyard and I were little.
Before long, we passed into the cool shade of the woods that lay just south of Roylinn. The dappled green light shining through the leaves overhead made the yellow leaves that had fallen look like a golden carpet on the forest floor. I tried to relax.
“Your first time to the retreat house, eh?” The driver’s voice startled me out of my reverie.
“Oh, um, yes. I’m only fifteen—not, well, senior enough, you know.”
“You’ll like it. Nice and quiet, it is.”
“You’ve been there a lot?”
He looked at me in surprise, then started chuckling. “Been there a lot? Indeed, my girl, for I’m the cook.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, a little embarrassed.
“No apology needed. You couldn’t have known. But you need any extra food or anything, you let me know. Growing thing like you—need to eat hearty.”
I just nodded vaguely. The pouch Isol had given me sat at my feet, and even though I didn’t feel hungry, I picked it up to see what was inside. I gasped in delight to find a large bunch of grapes. Wherever had she found these this late in the season, even in the academy’s long-lived gardens? The first burst of juicy sweetness in my mouth brought back my appetite in a rush.
I shared the grapes with the driver, who told me his name was Kibee. I also ate a bread roll, saving the rest of the food for lunch.
Before long, we’d left the woods and were back among the open fields. When we passed through villages, Kibee was greeted fondly by the inhabitants. The children especially seemed excited to see him, and they ran alongside and behind the wagon shouting at us and laughing. As we left the first village, I found out why: Kibee stood up, turned around, and threw several handfuls of sweets at the children, who scrambled to get as much as they could. Then Kibee sat down and handed me a piece of candy wrapped in greased paper.
AutumnQuest Page 3
