Finder: First Ordinance, Book One (15 page)

"That will be arranged the moment dinner is finished," the High President agreed.

* * *

My shoes were off as I stood upon grass that had been treated with its own type of poison—such that weeds would not grow. Still, I felt the beginnings of the wrongness. The High President and Melis Norwal were right to be concerned. Fyris' infection would consume everything if it were not stopped.

"Do you wish to see the gardens?" the High President asked.

"No, thank you," I said. "The grass is enough."

We stood in a courtyard outside the President's palace. His home was a square building, constructed of glass and metal. During the day, sunlight would reflect off every surface. At night, Siriaa's moons and clouds were mirrored in its surface. I watched as clouds moved across the back of it, fascinated that an entire building might be used as a mirror.

"We taught them how to make glass," Gurnil's hand dropped to my shoulder as I blinked at the construction the High President called home. "Long ago."

"Your glass art is still the best—we cannot come close to it," the High President said, coming to stand on my other side. He had no idea that far to the south, Fyrisians had no idea how to make proper glass. What they had was from Aviia, and that door was now closed.

I had questions I dared not ask. First among them was how much had the Avii taught the Kondari before the Kondari surpassed their teachers. "We found the Avii by accident, long ago," the High President chuckled. "We'd gotten adept at sailing, and decided to see how far we might go. On our third attempt, we found Avii castle. We'd never seen anything such as that, and our history books tell us the captain of the vessel stared in wonder as people such as he, equipped with wings, flew to the deck of his ship."

"They discovered Yokaru not long after. That is the continent far to Aviia's west," Gurnil informed me. "While Yokaru is not as advanced as Kondar, there is trade between the two lands."

"Yokaru and Kondar were once a single continent," Melis explained. "They broke apart when the planet was in its infancy. Tests prove that the people there are connected through their ancestry to ours. While many of their customs are strange, we come from the same people. They know this, too, and consider us their family."

How wondrous was that—to find family missing for turns uncounted? I sighed. "How fortunate you are," I mumbled.

"Fortunate, indeed. It improved trade relations immediately, once that fact was recognized," the High President agreed. "They often supply raw materials for our manufacturing concerns, and they in turn purchase finished goods or trade for technology."

"We must leave soon," Justis reminded us.

"Yes. Of course," the High President acknowledged.

* * *

"Take tomorrow off and visit Master Ordin in the afternoon," Gurnil said, once we reached the Library. The return trip to Aviia was much like the one that had taken us to Kondar, but it was late and I wanted to sleep. "He says he wishes to examine your pin feathers and decide whether they are ready to roll off."

I nodded, covering a yawn.

"Quin, you did a wondrous thing, and I realize you'll receive little thanks here for it. Never forget that Ordin and I understand the magnitude of it, and we will record it in our personal histories."

"Might I have parchment and pens?" I asked hesitantly. I'd never considered making a personal history, but Gurnil had just sown the seeds of it.

"I will supply them tomorrow. Go to bed, you're exhausted."

"Thank you, Master Gurnil." I turned and headed toward my bedroom.

* * *

Dena had come to Master Ordin for a burn to her fingers. I found her inside his workroom when I arrived for my appointment the following afternoon.

"Quin," she smiled, pleased to see me for some odd reason.

"May I?" I held out my hand.

Surprised, she placed her burned fingers in my outstretched hand. It was a simple fix and there was no scar left behind when I released her hand.

"That's—thank you," she breathed. "Burns are always the worst."

"I still say take the rest of the day off and report to Master Barth tomorrow," Ordin nodded at Dena. "Your shift was almost over, anyway."

"You're welcome," I said, giving Dena a nod as well. She almost skipped out of Master Ordin's workroom—the burn had blistered and looked painful to me. No trace of it, or the pain accompanying it, had remained.

"Quin, remove your cape and I'll look at your pin feathers," Ordin made a circle with his fingers, indicating that I should turn around. I removed the cape first, then turned so he could examine my wing nubs.

"Definitely getting longer," he acknowledged. "They're down past your knees, now."

They were—I'd checked in the mirror after my shower. I'd begun washing them, too, although they were tender to the touch.

"Yes," Ordin grunted, touching my left nub with practiced fingers. "This won't be comfortable, but it must be done," he said and rolled off the first pinfeather. I gasped at the pain of it.

Ordin gave me the bitter brew for pain after a while and continued working. Tears came to my eyes several times, and I'm not sure I would have made it through the ordeal had Daragar not arrived.

I blinked at the tall Larentii through a pain-filled haze. "I will remedy this," he said before Ordin could stop him. Touching a long, blue finger to my forehead, I was rendered unconscious while Ordin continued his work.

* * *

"I can only see the barest hint, but there is no precedent for it," Ordin accepted a cup of wine from Gurnil.

"What do you mean? What color are they?"

"I saw white. With silver, gold and copper, like the threads in her hair. I don't know what to make of it." Ordin gulped half his wine before shaking his head in confusion. "Daragar transported her to her bed afterward."

"I find it astounding that the Larentii has taken such an interest in her, although you and I find her just as fascinating."

"Certainly something we've never seen. No half-blood has ever had talent."

"We can't say that with absolute conviction—Fyris kills them as soon as they learn what they are, or sends them here, where Jurris does the same."

"Except for Quin," Ordin pointed out. "I wonder that she was allowed to live, even with the physician there calling her nubs bone spurs and cutting them away every turn. How she suffered that abuse in silence, I can never guess."

"The physician saved her life, but at great cost," Gurnil poured more wine for Ordin, who held out his empty cup. "Her wings should have grown eight turns earlier, in my estimation."

"Fyris had no idea what they had, or they'd never have sent her here," Ordin said. "If they had, they'd have asked to ransom her."

"Jurris never sent a reply to the letter they sent."

"They should know better than to expect a reply. They severed ties with Elabeth and Camryn's deaths. No, I'm not saying they're all responsible, or that they should all suffer for it. Tamblin will never be brought to justice, because of the First Ordinance."

"Yet half-bloods don't fall under the First Ordinance. Unfortunate, wouldn't you say?" Gurnil shook his head. "We can kill them as readily as Fyris can."

"Fyris kills whenever it wants," Ordin responded. "Tamblin has proven that repeatedly."

* * *

I overheard much of their conversation. Again, the First Ordinance had been mentioned. Ordin and Gurnil were familiar with it, but in all my searching in the Library, I hadn't come across a single book containing that phrase.

No books on Fyris were shelved there, either, which troubled me. The information I held was from the book in my old storeroom inside Tamblin's castle, and many pages had been ripped away from it.

Fyris was a turnip-shaped land south of Kondar, and as there were no other continents listed in the book farther south, I had no idea if any ships, sailing or flying, had ever gone past Fyris' shores and not known of it.

I was reading an accounting written by a glassmaker when Gurnil came looking for me later. I'd propped myself against the headboard of my narrow bed, taking care that my sore wings didn't press against the wood.

"Have you tried to move them? Without your hands?" Gurnil offered a sympathetic smile.

"No, Master Gurnil."

"Perhaps we should work on that. Ordin sent a message to Barth, saying you wouldn't be back to work in the kitchen for two more days. Pinfeather days are sore days. Would you like your evening meal served here, or would you prefer to come with me to the dining hall?"

"Do you have geography books? For Fyris?" I asked.

"There are some in my personal library. Come in the morning, and I'll let you borrow one or two of them."

"Thank you," my words tumbled out in a breathless rush. I'd been terrified that they'd be withheld—if they existed at all. "All the geography books in Fyris have pages torn out."

"Working to rip our existence from their lives?" Gurnil snorted after his question. He already knew the answer, so I didn't reply. I did slide off the bed, however, and followed him to the Guild Masters' dining hall.

* * *

I had breakfast with Master Ordin the following morning—he'd joined us for dinner the night before and asked that I come to his study for my morning meal, as he had books on anatomy that he wanted me to read.

Eager to get my hands on anything of that nature, I'd quickly agreed to share a meal with him. Gurnil promised the geography books and writing supplies when I returned from breakfast with Ordin, and my day was happily planned out. Medicine and geography; such diverse and fascinating subjects.

"Follow me," Gurnil said after I'd laid the medical books on my bed and went in search of geography. "I don't allow many inside my personal library," he added.

I trailed him as he walked into his private study, then gasped as he pressed a bar on the wall—another door opened, when I had no idea a door was there. A smaller library waited, and my breath caught as we walked past shelves meant for browsing. These were shorter than those in the main Library, and I could reach the top shelf if I stretched.

We came to the end of the first set of shelves and made a turn. I gasped a second time—a painting hung on a back wall, in full view of anyone who walked this deeply into Gurnil's private library.

A woman with golden hair was portrayed in the painting, her hand outstretched while the Orb pulsed nearby. Her body was what drew my attention, however. It appeared to be encased in the trunk of a tree, the roots serving as long skirts. I had no idea whether she was emerging from the tree or becoming the tree. Either way, the work was breathtaking, and I couldn't stop staring at it.

"Elabeth," Gurnil sighed. "In the Saving."

"I thought she had wings," I mumbled absently as I continued to stare.

"She did, but this was always done during the molting. You can't see the molting wings behind her—the artist chose not to depict them."

"What is the Saving?" I breathed.

"Young one, I cannot explain that. Jurris forbids it. The books you want are this way."

I was led away from the painting, and wondered why it hung here, instead of some other, more important portion of Avii Castle.

* * *

Dena brought our lunch. "You should go outside—it's a fine, spring day," she said when she found me sitting on my bed, reading one of the geography books Gurnil lent me. "Gurnil has benches on his terrace."

I blinked at her, feeling stupid—I hadn't been forbidden from going outside to read, and imagined it might be wonderful to do so. Marking my place with a scrap of parchment, I followed Dena as she made her way toward Gurnil's terrace.

* * *

"Ordin reports that the feather tips are white, with traces of gold, silver and copper," Justis reported. He didn't tell his brother that Ordin didn't want to reveal that information, but Jurris demanded, therefore it was required.

"That's preposterous," Jurris huffed. "None have wing colors like that. White possibly, as she is an aberration, but the colors of precious metals? Impossible." Jurris rustled red wings in agitation at his brother's description. "Ordin is merely attempting to make her appear better than she is."

"As you say, brother," Justis nodded. "I worry that she will be attacked again in the kitchen, should she go back there. Need I remind you that payment for her services was well-received?"

It had been—Halthea giggled when Justis handed the money chip to her, and immediately made plans to spend it.

"With that sort of income, I'd think you'd look to protect the asset," Justis continued.

"Then where?" Jurris began, before flinging up a hand. "Never mind. Send her to Ordin to fetch and carry for him and the other healers, and let her sleep in Gurnil's quarters if he still wishes to house her."

"I will ask," Justis bowed respectfully to Jurris and turned to leave.

* * *

"Will you accept this now?" Justis handed a bottle of wine to Ordin, after landing on Ordin's terrace shortly after twilight.

"Why?" Ordin held out a hand and accepted the offering.