Halls of Law

by V. M. Escalada

  She blinked, and her eyes were suddenly their normal clear brown. Now she spoke directly to Ker. “Grandmother told me there’s no pleasure like the pleasure of being proved right. Mark those words, you’ll never hear truer.” The child’s nose wrinkled up in a surprisingly adult expression. “Gods, griffins, and goats, people. Here’s the jewel. So where’s the prince? You’re all a pack of fools. There’s only one thing to do, and you all know it.” She thrust the gem at Luca, and sat down again. “Has the grandmother been talking to herself all these years?”

  • • •

  “Did I hear right? Feelers? And Faro Sweetwater knows?” Wynn sat in one corner of the same sleeping alcove Ker and Tel had been given before. Cushions and rugs were still folded on the rock benches. Wynn tilted her head and looked at Tel with one eyebrow raised. “Well?”

  Ker leaned back, letting her eyes fall shut. “We couldn’t talk about them,” she said. “I’m surprised we can even say this much.” Neither she nor Tel much liked the idea that some kind of binding had been placed on them, but it was hard to keep feeling indignant.

  “Great. Good. So they are Feelers, then?” Wynn slapped her hands down on her knees. “And this is a child’s story.” She squinted up at them. “And the man who turned up so timely?”

  “I think I should speak for myself. Though Kerida knows me, she doesn’t know how I happen to be here.”

  Ker automatically rose to her feet, with Tel and Wynn not far behind her. High Inquisitor Luca Pa’narion waved them down again. Tel settled next to her at one end of the sleeping bench, with Wynn at the other end.

  “Well, Kerida Nast. I knew you were going to be important. I had no idea how important.” Luca sat down cross-legged with his back to the curtain enclosing the alcove. “And to answer your question, Wynn Martan, archer of the Eagles, I followed Kerida here.

  “As you know, my name is Luca Pa’narion, and I am—or I was—one of the Polity’s High Inquisitors, stationed these last twenty years in the Peninsula. I was on the road when news of the Halians reached me.” He shifted his eyes so he was looking directly at Ker. “Altogether luckily.”

  “Well, no disrespect, Inquisitor, but how is it you can talk about them?” Tel asked. “You and Faro Sweetwater. Everyone except me and Ker, is what it feels like.” Ker bumped Tel with her shoulder, half in approval, and half in warning.

  “Ah, you were bound, were you? I’m sure you’ve noticed it wearing off, now that you’re back here. And you’ll always be able to talk to each other about them. The block is only to keep you from mentioning them accidentally, and having questions to answer. What do you know of the history of the Feelers?”

  Wynn inched closer to Kerida. “Everyone’s heard of Feelers,” she said. “They’re a children’s story, like I said. Aren’t they?”

  “They’ve become that,” Luca said. “It seemed safest for people to simply stop believing in them.”

  “Safest for whom?” Ker said.

  “Safest for everyone. That’s what the Rule of Law is for, you know. At least when it was first conceived. Safety for everyone.” Luca waited, and when it was obvious Ker had nothing further to say, he continued. “Feelers were once the partners and equals of Talents. Part of a larger group of what was called the Gifted, their Gifts detectable at about the same age, and by the same tests. There were Guilds, like the Hall schools, to train them.”

  Ker touched her side with cold fingers.

  Luca’s eyes narrowed as if he was looking back through the years to the time he spoke of. “Talents began to think of themselves as separate from those with other Gifts. Some say it was because we are the only ones who detect the Gifts in others, some that it was our early connection with the military and the Rule of Law.” He shrugged. “In any case a schism formed between the two groups. One came to be called Talents, and the other, Feelers.”

  Luca suddenly sat up very straight, eyes narrowing as if he followed a new train of thought. He began to smile and then shook himself, looking around at them again, though the smile didn’t fade completely. “I’ve just been struck by a little bit of irony.”

  “How so?” Tel’s tone was cautious.

  “‘The time of joining comes,’” he quoted. “I’m thinking this invasion might mean the reuniting of the Gifts, when it was an uprising that broke them apart in the first place. It was a great-grandson of Jurianol, who tired of waiting for his father to die. A faction of Feelers supported the rebel, and were defeated with him. Because of their treason, Talents were able to turn the horrified monarch’s heart against all Feelers.”

  “They were imprisoned here?”

  “Oh, no. Worse than that. At first they were merely registered, and their activities regulated and controlled. It’s from that era that most of the stories told about Feelers and their evil ways originate. Eventually, Rule of Law resulted in their being . . .” For the first time, Luca hesitated.

  “Dampened.” Ker felt chilled, as if a cold draft had come off the rock face behind her.

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re saying that these people are Feelers, aren’t you?” Wynn looked from Luca to Ker and back.

  Luca drew in a deep breath, nodding. “Not everyone—not every Talent even, agreed with the decree of outlawry. Some Feelers were helped to avoid the eventual roundup, some to escape if they were taken into custody. But the Polity was spreading, even then, and with it the Rule of Law, and the places for Feelers to hide are few.”

  Ker thought of Larin. “So new Feelers are born in these places?” How dreadful, she thought.

  “Some are born here, yes. But the Gifts appear anywhere, as the Talent does, with every generation.” He tapped himself on the sternum with his thumb. “That’s where I come into this. People like myself, followers of those who disagreed, all those years ago—we save those we find, sending them to havens like this one. But we’re few, those of us who know.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s illegal, my dear child. Haven’t you been listening? Illegal to be a Feeler, or to aid them in any way. We’d be subject to the same penalties—or I should say penalty, since there is only one.”

  Dampening. This time Kerida didn’t say it aloud.

  “Only those of us who are powerful enough to hide our knowledge from the Inquisition can know of the secret.” Luca’s grin turned his face into a skull. “I won’t tell who the others are, in case you’re ever asked—I’m not the only Talent who was on the road when the Halians arrived.”

  “You thought I might become one of those powerful ones.” Ker leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.

  “You are one. How else could you have spoken with the griffin?”

  Ker shook her head. “What if I hadn’t believed you? Or hadn’t wanted to help them?”

  “You forget, I’m an Inquisitor, and Griffin Class myself. Do you think I could Flash you and not see the quality of person I had in my hands?”

  Ker sat back, blinking. Would she have been willing to help Feelers, without knowing them first? She liked to think so.

  On the other hand, she was getting pretty tired of everyone being so sure they knew her.

  Wynn was shaking her head. “But how is it Faro Sweetwater knows? How is she protected from speaking of it to the wrong person?”

  “Juria Sweetwater is a special case,” Luca said. “Her aunt is a Feeler—not saved by me, and not here in the Serpents Teeth—and so Juria’s known of their existence since she was a child. She can no more mention them accidentally nor refer to them casually than any of us.”

  “Her aunt. I suppose they’re all someone’s family, aren’t they? They don’t seem evil, truth to tell.” Wynn’s brow creased in thought. “Though appearances can by faked easy enough. My uncle Zavian didn’t look like a killer.”

  “The fate of the Feelers is an old story.” Luca was taking the jewel from his pouch once a
gain. Even inactivated, it made Ker’s skin crawl. “But there’s one older still. From before the time of Jurianol, it’s thought. Remarks in old texts, pieces of scrolls older still, speak of such things as this.” Luca held it out again, flat in his palm. “People who used them, mines they were taken from.”

  Again the chill chased itself up Ker’s spine. “Ganni said there are still veins of it here.”

  “Almost gone, but yes. This is one of the places to which the old scrolls referred. It’s been forbidden for years to search here for precious metals. The whole of the Serpents Teeth is taboo—I suspect because it was known the jewels were found here. Then, those of us who helped the Feelers used the old stories and kept them alive for our own purposes.” He fell silent, still studying the stone.

  “What happens now?” Wynn asked.

  Kerida swung an arm around the shorter girl’s shoulder and hugged her. “Inquisitor Luca will go for the prince.” She wondered if everyone could hear the relief in her voice.

  Luca smiled a sorrowful smile. “Oh, no. Granted that either of us could Flash the prince and know him for who he is, I must go to Faro Sweetwater. There are other Wing Faros more powerful, more important politically, and we can’t abandon her to pressures that could change her mind about supporting you. Your word on the existence of the prince might not have much weight with the Wings as a whole, but mine will.” Could anyone be as confident as Luca sounded? “You’ll go fetch the prince, and I’ll go to Oste.” He smiled.

  • • •

  Ker rubbed her eyes. Why couldn’t she sleep? From the quality of their breathing, Tel and Wynn clearly could. Luca’s dim silhouette was just visible in the opening of the alcove. He’d borrowed some of the luminescent vine the Feelers used, and wore it wrapped around his wrists and forehead as they did.

  It felt as though the Inquisitor had been drifting in and out of her life forever, but she hadn’t actually seen him since he’d taken her away from her sister Ester’s tent. She’d often imagined what she’d say to him if she ever had the chance, but somehow, today, she wasn’t reminded so much of the loss of her family, as of the security and safety of the Hall of Law. At this moment, Ker would have given anything to turn back the days, to wipe out the invasion. Right now, living as a Talent—and letting the Halls of Law hold everything in their iron hands—seemed a small price to pay if it meant everyone could be safe and alive.

  As bad as she’d thought the Halls were, they weren’t as bad as the Halians. They didn’t kill anyone. But they Dampen people. Ker shivered, pushing that tiny voice to the back of her mind. She edged herself carefully out from under Tel’s protective arm and crept over to Luca.

  “Good,” he murmured. “I was hoping for a chance to ask about the griffin. What was it like? Do you think I can meet him?”

  Ker smiled, shaking her head. Luca sounded just like a child hoping to see jugglers at the market. “I’ve questions of my own, Inquisitor.”

  “Of course. After you.”

  Ker peered sideways at the older man. The light from the luminescent vine elongated his features. “Why aren’t we Candidates told more, so we can be prepared when some new aspect of the Talent manifests?”

  “You thinking of something in particular?”

  “I’m thinking of the auras, in particular. If I’d known what to expect, it wouldn’t have come as such a shock.”

  Luca went still. “What auras?” He turned to face her directly, gripping her arm just above the wrist. “Describe what you saw.”

  Ker blinked at him. “Let go of me. Sir.”

  The Inquisitor lifted his hand immediately. “Your pardon, please. It’s just—can you explain?”

  Now it was Ker’s turn to stare at him. Was it possible he didn’t know? “When I first met the griffin,” she began. “He said I’d woken him up, and that he hadn’t known Talents could do it. And then he said he’d do it for me as well.” She wasn’t sure she could make Luca understand the sensation of walking upstream against a current like a wall of water that suddenly wasn’t there. “When he was finished, I could see that everyone around me, including the griffin himself, had an aura.” She described how each person’s aura was different, some with more or fewer colors. “I’m seeing patterns, though.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, ordinary people like Tel and Wynn have three colors, and from what I can tell, the same three: green, blue, and yellow. The Feelers all have six colors. Five of them, the ordinary three plus purple and orange they all have in common. But the sixth color varies from Feeler to Feeler. I don’t know what that means yet.”

  “This is amazing.” Ker had never heard anyone sound so excited. “I ask you to trust and believe that I have never heard of such a thing. What about me? Do I have one?”

  Paraste. “Yes. Oh!” Green, blue, and yellow, plus purple and orange, and then turquoise. “You have the same six colors I do. Wait—” She thought she’d seen a red mist, but it disappeared, as if her breath had blown it away. He also lacked the iridescent coppery tinge that she thought she’d seen in her own aura. Ker shook her head. “I’ve not seen turquoise among the Feelers. Would the Tutors at the Hall have known about the auras?”

  He was shaking his head. “Inquisitors have full access to all the archives; we’re obliged to study them. I assure you there’s no mention of this phenomenon.”

  “Weimerk seemed to think it was normal. When I asked him to stop it, he was surprised.”

  “But he didn’t stop it?”

  “No, he . . . cushioned it somehow, so I wasn’t overwhelmed by it anymore.” She squinted at the turquoise in Luca’s aura. “I’d like to Flash more people, see if there are other patterns.” She told him about the red mist she’d seen on the soldiers she and Tel had met on the road. “And Jak Gulder’s aura had a kind of red net overlaying it.”

  “I know that red mist, I’ve seen it myself.” Luca told her of his encounter with the Shekayrin, and how he’d used his special block to save himself. Ah, Ker thought, that’s where that residue of mist came from.

  Luca fell silent. His exhaustion was even deeper than her own, she realized. Kerida was suddenly struck with the depth of the man’s loss. She’d only been a part of the Halls for a few short years. For Luca, it had been his whole life. No wonder he looked so thin and drawn. The relief that had left her blinking back tears when she’d seen him diminished just a little.

  After a long time the Inquisitor spoke. “What a wonderful opportunity this would have been, if we weren’t in danger of our lives.”

  “I’d love to see if Larin and old lady—Ara?—have the same colors in their auras.”

  He turned to look at her, head atilt. “You’ve seen the old woman?”

  “When Tel and I came through the mines the first time and found the griffin. She persuaded the group who caught us to let us go.”

  “But you saw her?” Luca was looking at her intently. “You didn’t just hear her speaking?”

  “I saw her. But now that you mention it, Tel didn’t see her. I thought it must be something about the light. Or—” Ker sat up. “Is it a Gift? Can she make herself invisible?”

  “Oh, it’s more than that. I myself have never seen her. But it’s not surprising. The woman’s been dead since before I was born.”

  KER was one big bruise, with the sorest spot the place under her arm where the crossbow quarrel had pierced her side. She was trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes when Wynn stuck her head out from under the sleeping rugs on the ledge.

  “It’s too early to wake up.” Despite her words, Wynn rolled off the sleeping ledge and stretched, pulling her knees to her chest one at a time.

  “Who knows what time it is really?” Tel said, yawning as he pulled the cover off the glow stone.

  “Please,” a small voice piped from the darkness. Tel cursed and dimmed the stone again.

  “If
you please.” A skinny boy with hair the color of a field mouse stepped around the curtain, almost dwarfed by the basket he carried. “The griffin said you’re awake, so here’s your breakfast.” Ker’s stomach suddenly rumbled and she stood up, pushing the hair out of her eyes. The boy set the basket down, bobbed his head at her, and disappeared into the dark.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Tel uncovered the glow stone again.

  Ker folded back the cloth, revealing six eggs, brown-speckled and hardboiled. Likewise six rolls, still warm from the ovens, three mugs, and a stoppered jar of—

  “Do I smell kaff?” Wynn pulled mugs and jar out of the basket and was pouring even before Ker had a chance to divvy out the eggs.

  “What kind of eggs do you think these are?” Tel tied his hair back with a loose cord out of his pack.

  “I don’t care,” Ker said. “I’m just happy it isn’t more travel cake.”

  They were sweeping the last of the eggshells into the basket when Luca appeared. The Inquisitor had managed to shave sometime during the night, and even his clothing seemed less rumpled than it had the evening before. Ker grimaced, immediately conscious of the wrinkles and dirt on her own clothing, and the blood that had dried on top of them. And of how she smelled. Yesterday’s face washing felt so long ago.

  Luca grinned as if he knew her thoughts. “Good, you’ve eaten. Anyone else for the bath?”

  A short time later, Ker was the cleanest she’d felt in days and was pulling on the clothes that had been left out for her. Fresh clothing had been found for Wynn as well, and even some items long enough for Tel, though the tunic needed more belting in than usual. Both he and Wynn combed and retied their hair into soldier’s knots. Ker’s own close-cropped Talents’ haircut was growing out, but wasn’t yet long enough to tie.

  Luca brought them back to the meeting room where Sala was sitting, arms crossed, on the edge of the platform, talking to the older, scar-faced woman they’d often seen with Ganni, whose name Ker couldn’t remember. Ganni himself looked up with a grin as they approached.