“He does seem nice. He claimed he lost his keys and didn’t report it because he hoped he’d find them. Unfortunately, someone used them to sneak into an office. It’s not a mistake we can overlook.”
“Is he in trouble?”
The king gave her a helpless shrug. “We had to fire him. It might have been different if he’d told us as soon as he lost the keys. I don’t like letting him go, but I’m sure he feels lucky we didn’t arrest him.”
“Oh.” Nora was glad she still had a little food on her plate. She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed through a tight throat. Her quickening heartbeat pressed against her shirt, the rhythm whispering, No! No! No!
She glanced up at her father, who was watching her with a concerned expression. “Was he a friend of yours?”
Friend. The word struck Nora like a blow. She brought her coffee cup to her lips, but it was empty. “Yeah. He was.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll find another place to work. He just needs to mature a bit.”
It took an awful lot of effort to nod and smile.
Ulmin stood and went to Nora. He leaned down and gave her a hug. “I’m going to visit the chapel before I head out. I’ll be home late tonight.”
“Aunt Dani?”
Dani looked up from the book she was reading. “Good morning. Enjoying your day off?”
Nora suddenly found it impossible to hold back tears. She pressed her lips together and covered her mouth.
Dani stood. “Oh, honey, come in. Sit down.”
Nora sat in the chair next to Dani’s. The downstairs living room was lit with bright electric lights, plus a crackling fire. Nora’s sobs echoed off the papered walls. Dani leaned over and enveloped her niece in a hug. “That’s right, let it out.”
Nora shook her head, trying to calm herself. She didn’t want to cry; she wanted to talk. But her aunt’s soft arms and soothing words made her even more emotional.
After a couple of minutes, Nora said, “I’m okay.” Dani sat back. Nora sniffled and blurted, “A guard got fired yesterday.”
Dani nodded. “I heard. Why are you so upset?”
“Because it was my fault.”
Dani’s eyes widened. “I think you’d better tell me what that means.”
A spear of guilt entered Nora’s stomach. Krey would hate that she was sharing this with her aunt, but who else was she supposed to talk to? At least she could keep him out of it. She wiped her eyes and told her aunt about her suspicion that Minister Sharai’s elite apprenticeship program was something more.
“Nora, what would make you think such a thing?” Dani asked.
Good question. Nora couldn’t tell Dani about the letters Krey had found, or about the New Therroan connection. “Just . . . just a feeling,” she said. Then she confessed that she’d befriended Ovrun and convinced him to give her the keys to Sharai’s office.
“I went into the office yesterday, and I left the keys there,” Nora said, her chin trembling again. “He’d still have his job if it weren’t for me. I messed up the rest of his life because I was careless!”
Dani reached out and took Nora’s hand. “You did mess up, but Ovrun did too. He knew better than to go along with such a scheme. In fact, if the head of security knew he loaned his keys out rather than misplacing them, he’d be in even more trouble.”
“Please don’t tell him!” The words came out as sobs.
It was a minute or two before Dani responded. “Against my better judgment, I’ll keep this private. More to salvage your peace of mind than to save Ovrun.” She locked her gaze with Nora’s. “Krey West was with you when you broke in, wasn’t he?”
Nora stopped crying. Stopped breathing. At last, she recovered enough to say, “No.” But she’d never been good at lying to Dani.
“You left the celebration yesterday afternoon. Krey was gone too.”
Nora looked at her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Nora.” Dani’s hand came up and rested on Nora’s cheek. “This boy . . . this young man . . . as nice as he is, he’s not a very good friend. He’s gotten you into trouble twice now, trying to find his girlfriend. And she isn’t even missing; she just doesn’t want to talk to him! He’s even making you question why Faylie moved. Sweetheart, he’s dragging you down.”
“It’s not like that!” But Nora didn’t know how to convince Dani without disclosing Krey’s visit to the records hall.
“Krey needs to live somewhere else.”
“What?” Nora’s voice turned shrill.
“Other apprentices live in boarding houses around Cellerin City. We’ll find him a job at a public library instead of our private one. It’ll be better for him, Nora. For both of you.”
“No!” Nora wiped fresh tears off her cheeks, but they kept coming. “Ovrun was my friend, and he’s gone! And Krey—well, he’s infuriating, but I think he might be my friend, too. I won’t have anyone left! And besides, he needs my help—”
“No, Nora! He doesn’t need your help. He needs to focus on his apprenticeship. I’ll try to find some other young people to work at the palace; I know you need friends. But you don’t need him as a friend! I’m sorry, but I’m not budging on this.”
Nora knew when she’d lost a battle with Dani. She continued to protest anyway, but none of her arguments left a divot in Dani’s stone resolve. Finally, Nora whispered, “Can I tell Krey goodbye?”
Dani considered it for long enough to convince Nora the answer would be no. But at last, her aunt nodded. “Five minutes. That’s it.”
Krey was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how to get word to Nora that Ovrun was gone. He’d heard it from a guard earlier that morning.
Movement outside his window caught his eye. Nora and Dani were walking toward the dorm. Their postures—square shoulders for Dani and slumped ones for Nora—told him all he needed to know. She told her aunt we broke into the office. By the stone, she told her; I know she did! He stomped down the stairs and into the yard, ready to give Nora a piece of his mind.
But when Nora approached him, leaving her aunt standing several mets away, she was crying. Not a few elegant, royal tears; this was all-out bawling with hiccups, snot, and sobs. All Krey’s angry words fled. “What happened?”
“You—I—” She couldn’t get more than that out.
Krey stood motionless. Then a memory of his Aunt Evie’s voice echoed in his brain: Best piece of advice when Zeisha’s crying? Just hold her.
Could he do that with Nora? Would she take it wrong? Since her ill-fated kiss attempt, she hadn’t even flirted with him. Surely it was safe to give her one hug.
He held out his arms, and she rushed into them. When she wiped her nose on his shirt, he didn’t flinch. I deserve major points for that.
Nora’s tears soon slowed. She pulled away, took a deep breath, and told him the truth. She’d been so upset about Ovrun getting fired that she’d talked to her aunt, trying to keep Krey out of it. Her shrewd aunt figured out his role anyway.
Now Krey had to leave the palace. I should’ve known better than to trust a royal. I did know better. Maybe Nora had good intentions, but telling her aunt had been just plain stupid.
Dani’s gentle voice reached them. “Nora, you need to wrap it up.”
Nora leaned in close and spoke softly, her voice hoarse from crying. “I still want to help you. If you find out anything, write me a note, fold it as small as you can, and throw it over the fence. Right where we climbed over. I’ll check every morning and afternoon.”
The offer struck a gentle blow to his hard-earned cynicism. Was she really that kind? Or just that lonely? Does it matter? “Okay,” he whispered. “You do the same. Don’t write too many specifics. I’ll fly over to look for notes as often as I can.” His eyes flicked up. “Your aunt’s coming.”
Nora gave him another hug and said in his ear, “You’re an ass, but you’re my friend.”
A laugh broke through his frustration. He let go of Nora, then turned to Dani. �
��I’ll get my things.”
17
When I was four, someone in our community learned to make candles. Before that, our bedrooms were dark as the stone at night. My siblings sometimes felt scared, but not me. I looked out the window and talked to the stars like they were my friends.
-The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios
Krey clapped Hatlin on the back. “This round’s on me.”
Hatlin grinned. “I’m not gonna argue with that!”
Krey went to the bar and came back with grape juice for himself and beer for Hatlin.
Hatlin took a big gulp of his drink. “You ever gonna drink anything more exciting than juice?”
“Hey, we’re discussing important stuff. I don’t want to slow my mind down.”
“Lucky for me,” Hatlin said, “I can drink and think at the same time.”
Krey chuckled. Hatlin wasn’t very smart when he was sober, and by the end of a meeting, the group counted themselves blessed if he made sense at all.
This was Krey’s third private meeting with the rebels, and he still hadn’t heard one reference to a magic-eater militia. Every week, he became less convinced that the New Therroans had Zeisha. And he became more convinced of the righteousness of their cause.
Most of the people at these meetings had grown up in New Therro, where they were treated like rebellious children. In the half-century since the advent of the Cellerinian monarchy, there’d never been a minister from New Therro. (Minister Sharai’s parents were from there, but she’d been born in Cellerin City.)
It wasn’t fair, they all argued, to pay taxes when no one in the government advocated for them. Plus, New Therro had trouble getting the same goods and services as people closer to the city. That particular issue struck close to home for Krey.
Above all, Krey admired these ordinary people who were willing to work for something big, something they believed in. Their lives had meaning beyond putting bread on the table. That was what he’d always wanted for himself: To affect the world for good. To matter.
“Let’s get started.” Wallis, a man who had no title but was clearly the group’s leader, stood at the head of the long table. He was of average build and height, but his hazel eyes were fierce and intense. When everyone quieted, he said, “I’d like to continue our discussion on our lack of magic eaters. Anyone come up with any recruitment ideas?” He looked straight at Krey, the single talented person in the room.
Krey almost tested them by saying, We could abduct magic eaters and start a militia. But they’d think he was crazy—or they’d kill him for finding out their secret. He shook his head and shrugged, keeping his ears open and his mouth closed.
It was past midnight when the meeting ended, but Krey needed to see if Nora had left him a message. He walked through the cold streets, wearing both a hat and a hood, eating diced feathers. When he thought he’d had enough, he took to the frigid air.
He landed inside the wooded area east of the palace, then walked through the dark trees, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. The moonlight soon illuminated the item he was seeking: a fallen branch.
He lifted it. It wasn’t that heavy, but it was nearly as tall as him. Flying with a stone clutched to his chest was second nature now, but was he ready to support an item’s weight all along his body? Krey held the branch upright against his left side and, as he’d been doing with stones, enfolded it into his magic.
A gasp escaped his mouth. The base of the branch pressed against his booted foot. They were all one—sweaty foot, soft sock, broken-in leather, rough bark. It was the same all the way up his body where the crooked branch pressed into his thigh, waist, arm, and shoulder. He could sense the miniscule holes of early rot throughout the wood. He shivered with the sensation of dozens of tiny bugs crawling in those spaces. There was a beauty in this fallen branch, one he’d never have seen with his eyes.
Continuing to clutch the branch, Krey flew above the trees. He stopped when he neared the palace perimeter fence. Two guards were patrolling with their lanterns. He doubted they’d spot him against the dark sky.
When the guards were far enough away from the area Krey was targeting, he swooped in, landed, and set down the branch. He lit a small candle he’d carried in his pocket and began looking for a note from Nora.
Several minutes of careful searching yielded nothing. He held the candle close to his chest. Blocking most of its light with his gloved hand, he rose into the sky and looked for the guards. One of them was nearing the corner. Cursing, Krey returned to the ground. He was about to blow out the candle when an idea struck. What if Nora wrote a note but didn’t throw it far enough?
Still blocking most of the candlelight, he flew up. He surveyed the top of the thick, stone fence. There! A compact, folded piece of paper was stuck in the twisting barbed wire.
Krey pinched the candle wick with two gloved fingers and put it in his pocket, just as a guard turned the corner and started walking his way. He reached between the wires and grabbed the note. As he lifted it out, barbs snagged his glove, holding it fast. Damn it. He withdrew his hand from the glove, leaving the note where it lay and wincing when the sharp metal cut him. There was no way to retrieve the glove without further injuring himself. At least it was a tall fence; the guards shouldn’t find the glove any time soon.
The guard was close now. Krey adjusted his position so he was hovering over the garden, inside the fence. A caynin came running. Must’ve heard me. It drew closer, and a loud uh-uh-uh emerged from its gaping mouth. Krey grabbed the note with his still-gloved hand. He pulled it out, avoiding the barbs.
Gripping the note tightly in his bleeding hand, he soared away, pursued by the caynin’s staccato call.
Back at his boarding house, Krey washed his hand in the outdoor water pump. If it weren’t so late, he would’ve found the blood-eater apprentice who lived down the hall. The young man could’ve easily healed Krey’s wounds. The cuts weren’t too bad, though. They’d heal quickly.
Krey rushed into his room and pulled the note from his pocket. In neat print, it read, Our friend:, followed by a Cellerin City address.
A smile tugged at Krey’s lips. Our friend. That had to be Ovrun, and this must be where he lived. Nora had probably gotten the address from another guard. Flirting again, Princess?
Krey’s long day caught up with him, and when he lay in bed, he fell asleep immediately. The note with Ovrun’s address filled his dreams, waking him at dawn. His first inclination was to go straight to Ovrun’s house, but the former guard might still be sleeping. It was Sunday, so Krey set off instead to find a Rimorian chapel. Since leaving home, he hadn’t been to any services. He hadn’t wanted to attend a snooty, private service only for the palace residents.
The streets were almost empty, and Krey soon found a small chapel. He joined about a dozen other early risers at the first service of the day. The music started, and he soaked in the songs he’d grown up with. He held back tears when he imagined his aunt, hundreds of clommets away, hearing this same music. After the emissary’s short message, the music started again. Krey slipped out, more at peace than he’d been in weeks.
After half an hour of walking, he knocked at the pale-green door of a small, well-kept house. No one came, so he knocked again. The door opened, revealing a bleary-eyed Ovrun.
“Krey!” Ovrun’s eyebrows pulled together. “What are you doing here?”
“I got kicked out of the palace.”
Ovrun folded his arms.
“I know you’re pissed,” Krey said, “and you have every right to be. But can we talk?”
Ovrun eyed him warily, but stepped back and beckoned him into a small, tidy living room.
“Are your mom and sister here?” Krey asked.
“They’re at chapel services.” Ovrun sat on a small couch and gestured to a chair.
Krey spoke as soon as he was seated. “Ovrun, it’s my fault someone found your keys. I left them on the minister’s desk.” Ovrun wasn’t looking at him, but
he kept talking anyway. “I know apologizing doesn’t come close to making up for what I did, but I had to tell you . . . I’m sorry.”
Ovrun met his gaze. “I loved that job.”
“I could tell.”
“I needed that job. My family needed me to have it.”
“Have you found anything else?” Krey asked quietly.
“No. I’ve tried. I’m thinking about joining the army, if they’ll take me. And if I can convince my mother. She says it’s dangerous, even though we’ve been at peace since before she was born. But even if I do enlist, it doesn’t pay much. I’ll have to find something else too.”
Krey pressed his lips together and nodded. Cellerin’s army was small and only trained a couple of weekends a month. It’s my fault he’s scrambling for work. Krey felt like a fool, coming here to ask for Ovrun’s help again. But Zeisha’s freedom, and possibly her life, were at stake. I’m happy to be a fool for her.
He took a deep breath. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but—” He swallowed and spread his hands helplessly. “By the stone, Ovrun, I just want to find Zeisha.”
Ovrun’s expression softened a little. “I know. That’s why I helped you. That, and because I considered you and Nora friends.”
“I considered you a friend too. I still do.” Krey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In fact, I trust you enough to tell you why we needed your keys. We should’ve told you this from the beginning.”
He started talking, and the only detail he skipped was Nora’s suspicion about Faylie. That part of the story was hers to tell.
Ovrun’s eyes widened as Krey told him the Minister of Lysting might’ve started a secret militia. “Can you tell me anything about Sharai?” Krey asked. “Maybe people who visit her, or specific times she leaves? I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but with all the time you’ve spent at the gate . . .”
The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1) Page 14
