The Glass Girl

by Kim Alexander

  From now on? “I should have eaten a bigger dinner, of course I remember. The little pool in the garden.” She took another sip of coffee. “If my dress is in the vicinity, I should get back. I'll have to call a cab . . .”

  “Allow me to take care of it. Letty, I hope you'll consider having a somewhat more traditional dinner with me? Tomorrow evening?”

  “Oh, dear, tomorrow. What about the night after?” Althee had taught her to never accept the first offer. She'd get around to correcting 'Letty' as soon as it seemed reasonable. He was being so nice, she didn't want to insult him.

  He nodded. “That might work better anyway.” He stood and stretched. The robe fell open.

  “Yes,” she smiled, reaching for him. “I'll look forward to it.”

  Once they were dressed, she followed Auri to the front door. The place smelled like breakfast and coffee and wood polish, and she could hear servants moving around behind closed doors. As they waited for the driver to pull around, a door banged open behind them and a tiny figure, followed by an even tinier one, hurtled towards their knees. A little girl in a pink smock dress skidded to a halt in front of Lelet, her silver Persian cat twining between her legs.

  “I'm to be called Sally,” the girl told her. “And this is Dolly.” Lelet crouched down to pet the cat's silky fur. It rubbed its flat face against her palm, purring enthusiastically. “Dolly likes you. You're new.”

  “Sally,” said Auri, “don't pester people. Maybe Miss Letty doesn't like cats.”

  “Oh, no,” said Lelet. “Dolly is pretty and very sweet.” She smiled at the girl. “And so are you.”

  “You're new,” she repeated. “I like your hair like that.”

  “This is my niece,” said Auri. He took Sally by the hand and herded her towards the source of the good smells, beyond a nearby door. “She and her father—my uncle—are staying with me. Sally, go find Mrs. Jadlen and ask for a glass of milk.”

  “I know what that is,” Sally said to Lelet. “I've got to go now, bye.” The cat blinked its jeweled green eyes at Lelet, then followed the child into the kitchen.

  Auri gave the driver instructions and left Lelet with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Letty,” she said to herself as the coach turned onto the Upper Garden boulevard. “I'm new.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Eriis

  Two months after his first dinner with the prince, Zaii returned from another long day at his employer's side. “This is from our good friend, with his best wishes.” Zaii placed a package on the dining table. It was the size and shape of a bottle, covered in black paper decorated with a narrow scarlet band, held together with a matching seal, the prince's own. Liim smiled, having seen 'wrapping' before, but the gift's intended recipient cocked her head and reached a tentative hand to touch it. “Iither, it's a custom from the humans. You must rip the paper.”

  “Wouldn't that ruin it?” The girl looked more confused, not less.

  “It's a gift from the prince, shan. The paper is not the gift.” Liim placed it in her hands. “Tear it open to see what's inside.”

  Instead of ripping the paper, she teased the edges apart as neatly as she could. Zaii knew she would save the wrapping. “He says I must fuss over him less, and you more.”

  That made her smile, as he knew it would. She stroked her midsection—a new habit, as there was nothing apparent yet. “I don't think Little Moon and I need much by way of fussing.” She stretched her tunic over her stomach. “Can you tell? Mother says no, but I'm certain I can.”

  “I'm with your mother, at least for the day,” said Liim. He poured a round of sarave, a nice bottle from Rhuun's cellar. Although, thought Zaii, it was possible that if she ever returned Hellne might still lay claim, to the cellar and the Seat besides. He'd always found her vain and tedious. When Rhuun took her place and requested Zaii to work at his side (requested!) he found his position quite comfortable; the prince did not stand on ceremony and had more wit than anyone who held the seat in living memory. And if the prince was a little odd-looking, if his abilities were not of the more common variety, if he indulged in sarave, well, one might thank his mother, as far as Zaii was concerned. In fact, as far as Zaii was concerned Hellne could wander the Vastness until the moons fell into the sand.

  “Have you given any more thought to what you'd like to do after?”

  She shrugged. It was customary to leave that decision to the bearer of the spark. “We have some time, yet. Whatever, you'll see a bit of me. I'll have to make sure the little one is behaving. And check in on comings and goings.”

  While Zaii did not make it a practice to gossip about his days by the prince's side, Iither had an insatiable thirst for stories about the royal family, and Rhuun in particular. Zaii kept it harmless and kept her happy. He had a strong incentive to do so. “Oh,” he said, “it appears you may get your wish.”

  She gave a gasp. “No.”

  “The humans may be coming back. If they do come here, they must be received properly, with guests and dinner and ceremony. There will be a limited number of invitations.”

  Iither bounced in her seat. “They're coming back!” She clapped her hands with delight.

  Zaii shook his head. She is so young, he thought. She doesn't remember how Eriis was before the humans came the last time.

  Liim leaned forward. “Does it not concern you, Iither? The humans? Isn't there an element of danger?” Zaii knew he was teasing her - she'd walk to the Vastness and back to meet real, actual humans.

  She snorted. “Pssth. Everyone knows it was just a few old men and fanatics who had their hand on the Weapon. Most of the humans don't even know we exist. Even now.” She looked at Zaii. “Isn't that true?”

  He nodded. “This is what we have come to learn, thanks to the travels of our prince. And now it appears we will be formally introduced, Eriis and Mistra. All of us, not just the Raasth and the Guardhouse.”

  “The old Mages were just as bad,” added Iither. “That's what Mother says. And what they did to the prince and his friends…” Her eyes widened. “But he lets that one Mage hang about. He's got to be the most forgiving man on Eriis.”

  Zaii chuckled. He couldn't quite figure out how Rhuun captivated so many women, looking like he did. But maybe he—Zaii—was just a snob. Rhuun had certainly performed beyond anyone's expectations of him on the High Seat. “He knows enough to accept help where he can find it. And Coll, the Mage; he's a prodigy when it comes to the weather. You know it's gotten cooler.” Liim and Iither nodded. “Coll made it official. It's now cool enough for the humans to come here. The invitation is being drawn up.” He went on to caution the girl against an excess of excitement, since the event was still months away. But the wheel was turning, the weather was fixed.

  It was even cool enough for the humans to leave the safety of the interior rooms, thanks to Coll, and thanks to La Naa.

  “Well, that means you can stop now, can't you?” Zaii had pulled the strange man aside after his announcement. In his typically cryptic fashion, he'd stood from his chair, said, “Weather's fixed,” and sat back down. It took several rounds of questions from Rhuun and Zaii to figure out exactly what that meant.

  Coll shrugged. “I suppose. There are other things I could look in to. His blood's a treasure house, though. A shame to let it go to waste just because one project is done.”

  “Need I remind you he is not an experiment or a bucket? If you damage him . . .”

  Coll pursed his lips. “Yes, there won't be enough left of me to sweep up. You've mentioned that. Well, he's fine. Sleeps quite a bit after, then he's good as new. Or as good as he ever was, I suppose. Drinking less, you know.”

  Zaii frowned. “I did not. Why is that?”

  “I told him sarave makes the blood unstable.”

  Zaii had never heard such a thing. “Is that true?”

  Coll looked at something in the distance. “It's not not true. Will you tell him he might have been misinformed?”

  Of cou
rse, he did not. Zaii thought that, in his own way, Coll cared for the prince as much as Iither. As much as he, himself.

  “So, my dear,” he told the girl, “When the day comes, we'll have to get you something nice to wear.”

  “The humans,” she breathed. Then she looked at Zaii. “Will the Glass Girl come back?”

  “I…I don't know.” Zaii hadn't thought of that, although he suspected Rhuun thought of little else.

  “I heard he was done and moved on,” said Liim. “I don't think he would care to see her even if she did show up.” Liim was protective of the prince and held a grudge against the human woman who brought him so much grief. Stories out of the palace had the prince taking up with this server or that courtier. But Zaii knew that, to the frustration of numerous ladies at court, Rhuun spent his evenings alone.

  “I think he would care very much,” Zaii said. “I wonder…”

  “What?” asked Liim. “She's been gone for months.”

  “It was the unexpected way she left. I saw them, you know,” Zaii said. Iither, saucer-eyed, had forgotten to breathe. “It was after Yuenne's, um, abrupt departure.”

  “Rest him now,” they all murmured.

  “It was when the prince first took the High Seat, before I was in his service. I saw them together. I did not anticipate her leaving.”

  Liim shrugged. “Perhaps she missed her home.”

  Zaii smiled across the table at Liim. “I would consider a rock in the Vastness my home, if you were there.”

  Liim smiled back. “Is it a nice rock?”

  “You think other hands were busy,” Iither said, “to make her want to leave.”

  Zaii did not reply. He hadn't intended to share his thoughts with the girl; it seemed impolitic. But she was correct. Who would want the Glass Girl removed, and the prince weakened? The list was considerable and began close to the Seat itself. Finally, he said, “If she does come back, I would endeavor to share a few quiet words with her.” He thought again of the way the pair had looked at each other, neither able to hide their human hearts. “No,” he said. “Something in the sand doesn't sift. I think I might try and shake the screen and see what falls out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mistra

  It hadn’t taken Yuenne long to discover the right places in Auri’s house to go unobserved, to hear and see and absorb the way this young human behaved. In the nearly five months he’d been in Mistra, these places had come to serve him well. Despite the flame Auri had produced, despite Sally’s naming him as kin, Yu couldn’t quite bring himself to call the man a cousin. No proper Eriisai would show their ambitions on their faces so baldly. The boy was all too ready to believe he was destined for great things, if only someone were there to mentor him. Lucky boy, there was.

  This morning he had positioned himself on the fourth step on the back kitchen stairs, which gave him a perfect view of the foyer and front door, through the decorative metal transom atop the kitchen door. He knew Auri had plans to finally secure the va’Everly sister the evening before, and he wanted to see how he had fared.

  There they were. He spotted the woman’s white hair. It was longer now, but just as unnatural. Yu thought she looked tired, distracted. They were making plans, Auri kissed her on the cheek. So, he’d done well.

  How did you do it, human girl? How did you fool me? And the Zaal—he even tasted your blood and let you go. How did you change your face and walk through The Door and steal my property? The biggest question of all, though: why was she here at all? It was Auri’s job to get the story out of her, and then he could decide how to proceed—one way or another, he’d have to lure the prince to Mistra and end him. Without access to the power in Rhuun’s blood, The Zaal would be reduced to just another demon with a few old books. The Seat would be his—or Aelle’s, or perhaps one day Sally’s, if she grew to desire it. Hellne and her ridiculous family would be an ‘honored’ memory. It would be the time of Yuenne the Counselor.

  He heard Sally’s voice and slipped out of sight as she came banging through the kitchen door. As usual, her cat leapt on the counter, curled into a crescent, and began licking its paw.

  Auri followed her in. “Sally, what do we say about pets on the table?”

  “She didn't mean it, Uncle Auri. See? She's sorry.” Yu thought the cat did not look particularly sorry.

  “If she doesn't mind her manners she might find herself sleeping in a box out on the curb.” Well, that was enough of that! Even if the animal hadn’t made Sally’s transition to her new home a smoother one, it seemed out of proportion to the crime. He made sure Auri did not hear him enter the room from the staircase and was rewarded by the younger man’s jump.

  “Now, one mustn’t exaggerate. That seems like a cruel fate for such a little cat.”

  Sally bounced off her chair and leapt into his embrace. “Daddy! Guess who I just saw?” Without waiting, she continued. “The prettiest girl ever! Her name’s Letty! Her hair is really long and it's white and pretty. Can I have white hair, too?”

  “You can have anything you like, when you’re bigger,” Jan told the child.

  “She saved the prince,” added Sally.

  “She did? How interesting.” Auri leaned towards Sally and asked, “What else did she do?”

  “Can we go to the park?” It appeared the topic of princes and salvation had been left behind. But Auri remained curious.

  “Leave it,” said Yu. First it would be the prince, and then on to her mother, a topic he strenuously hoped to avoid.

  “What about the prince, Sally? What did Letty do?” Auri wasn’t ready to let it drop. It was almost as if he thought Yuenne was withholding information.

  She scrunched her small face at Auri. “She went flying like a bird and her feathers were blue and yellow and her hair was white and she went to live on the top of a tree. She took Dolly with her, and Dolly flew too, and I was there too and we all flew away to live in the sand.”

  And with that tale told, the child headed for the back door, and the garden beyond.

  Auri looked at Jan, ready for a translation. “Flying cats, they don’t have those on Eriis. What was she talking about?”

  Jan shrugged. “She may have gotten a few things right but—thanks to your remedies—it sounded like a storybook got mixed in with it. But remember the woman you’re dealing with. Your Letty did indeed save the prince.” He thought of Maaya, her hands bright with flame. The human in the parlor seemed a faint shadow. He wondered again how the guardian of the heir to the High Seat had ended up in this foolish man’s bed.

  Auri waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll have her brought to heel in no time. The girl’s a hopeless drunk.” Yu thought that sounded familiar. “Between her depraved sister and her mad brother, we’ll have her replace them both and become a Second soon enough. There’s precedence, if the older siblings are unfit. But we can’t have Sally going around yabbering about princes and flying cats. I’ll prepare another tincture.”

  So the remedy did impair Sally’s memory. Yu took a step forward, and Auri backed into the counter. “You’ll prepare nothing. You’ll do nothing.”

  “You can take her to the park without her screaming for her mother. Don’t act like I’ve done you two some great wrong. You’d still be hiding in the attic if it wasn’t for me.”

  Auri was correct. If he decided Yu wasn’t properly grateful, they might be shown the door. For now, he’d give the younger man the deference he so desired. He placed a smile on his face. “We shouldn’t be arguing. We want the same thing, don’t we? Just bring your Letty in line. She has so much to atone for. I can hardly wait for us to get started.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Eriis

  “Are you certain?” Rhuun rose from his desk and twitched opened the curtains. A dirty, low blanket of cloud, a smear of light which was the sun. Is the sky blue? He pushed away Lelet’s voice and looked back at Coll. “I don't see anything.”

  “Weather, it's more or less my specialt
y,” Coll reminded him. He looked past Rhuun out the tall window towards the mountains. “And be grateful you don't see anything. If you saw the storm, it would be far too late.” The Mage pulled a notebook from his robe and sat at what had become his own corner of the big wooden desk. He reached over and took a glass pen from a silver cup and tapped it against a page. “I believe we have less than two days to prepare.”

  Rhuun sat across from him. “You believe?” He handed Coll a fresh cup of water, they quickly passed it back and forth. “You believe or you know? I won't start a panic.”

  The Mage peered into his cup, as if looking for answers in the water. “I know. It's coming. One such as we haven't seen since before the Weapon.”

  “The Weapon. Are you certain it's not another attack?” He leaned forward. “Have you spoken to . . . anyone on the other side?”

  “Not yet. We're not quite there. But no, this is not from the human folk. It's because of us, I think.” He nodded at Rhuun's arms, his collection of new scars. “We have, for want of a better word, agitated the weather.”

  Rhuun put his hands below the desk. “We can't stop now. I mean, you spent quite a lot of time convincing me, now you're saying Eriis is angry?”

  “No, that's not what I meant. Not angry, just . . . it notices things. Eriis was bent, badly, out of shape. Now you and I, we are attempting to bend it back. And it responds. To Eriis, a storm of sand that could kill us all and bury our bodies is like a sneeze.”

  “So Eriis has caught a cold. And we have . . . what did you say? Three days to prepare?”

  “More like two. We must alert the folk at the Edge and let them dig in as best they can.”

  It had been the custom, in Fedeer’s day and all the days before, to let the sand blow as it might. Those inside the Arch counted on the shelter of the palace. Those less fortunate were left to survive and rebuild. “I'll alert them,” said Rhuun. “I'm calling them in. The Edge, the Quarter, everyone who wishes to shelter here will find the palace open to them. If this storm is coming—”