Finder: First Ordinance, Book One (22 page)

"At midday. I'll go during the regular mealtime and get something."

"Would they have taken all my feathers?" I mumbled, lifting a lid to find a bowl of brown beans, still warm from the pot.

"That's what happened before, when," Dena shrugged.

"I know about Treven," I replied, sliding off the bed. "Let's take this to the terrace. We can talk there, if you want."

"Nothing is written about him—not that most of us can get to, anyway," Dena said, following me as I carried the tray of food toward the terrace doors. "How did you find out?"

"By accident," I said. In a way that was true—I'd gone looking into Halthea's parentage, never expecting to find Jurris' father there. Even Halthea was unaware of who her real father was. Only Halthea's mother and Treven had known, until Halthea's foster-father learned of it during an argument with his wife.

"What do you think will happen in the Council meeting?" Dena asked when I settled on a bench on the terrace. The day was quite fine, still, in direct contrast with the darkness of my turbulent thoughts.

"They will argue," I shrugged and lifted the bowl of beans. "What they cannot refute is the fact that Gurnil was attacked and could have died. Ardis may receive a worse sentence than the others."

"What about Halthea?" Dena's question was whispered, as if she were afraid of being overheard.

"This is what I think," I said. "Jurris will argue that she has already been punished enough. I imagine that she will remain inside his suite, where she was taken last night. The others will be punished in truth, with Ardis' being the worst for striking Master Gurnil."

"That's not fair. She probably ordered Ardis to help her. The others, too." Dena's wings rustled in the late afternoon air, emphasizing her outrage against the Princess. "She can't retain her title—she doesn't have red wings, now. The Orb saw to that."

"Jurris will have the final say," I mumbled around a mouthful of beans.

"There are no more Red-Winged females," Dena observed. "What will happen to us?"

"I don't know," I said and pulled my wings tight against my back.

* * *

"It's as if everyone in the castle is afraid to make any noise," Amlis said. "How is Deeds doing in the kitchen?"

"I hear he and Wolter are getting along very well," Rodrik replied.

"Good. I wonder, still, how Wolter knew to come to our aid," Amlis mused.

"Perhaps someone saw or heard something and reported it. You know how gossip goes."

"Yes, but gossip has diminished to an occasional trickle, rather than the raging flood it used to be."

"The times are ultimately more dangerous, my Prince."

"That is true," Amlis agreed. "Shall we take ourselves for a walk near the kitchens? I hear there might be bread and honey available if we ask."

"I'll get my blade," Rodrik replied.

* * *

The small opening in the rocks was barely wide enough to fit his body inside. Regardless, Fen hid there, hoping the armed men who searched for him would walk past.

Afraid to breathe, he huddled there, hoping to blend into the surrounding stones well enough that none might see. He'd carried Amlis' message for a day's ride before burying the thing. He knew well enough what it said, and it could cost him his life if the enemy found it on him.

If he made it to Vhrist, he could recite what was written well enough. He hoped Omina would accept his word, instead of handwritten proof. Boots crunched nearby, causing Fen to shrink farther into his makeshift cave.

* * *

"This was Finder's sleeping quarters?" Amlis looked about him while Wolter and Deeds poured wine. They'd settled inside Finder's old storeroom, packed as it was with dusty crates, books, broken furniture and things none had thought to call for in turns.

"On a mattress so thin it may as well have been the floor," Deeds passed out cups of wine.

"My fault," Wolter muttered. "I never thought to look into it. Always assumed she took care of things herself."

"Doesn't matter now," Rodrik gulped his wine. "The dead have no cares."

"That doesn't mean we can't care for the dead," Wolter muttered. "Because we do."

"Wolter, I have a question," Amlis said.

"I already know what it is, and I can't explain it any better than you."

* * *

"Quin? Quin?" Dena's voice betrayed her panic. I'd been lost for a few moments, misdirecting those who thought to attack Chen's brother.

No, I'd never met him, but knew he was in danger, nonetheless. The seven who thought to kill him had begun to search elsewhere by the time I was done with them. Breathing a sigh, I turned to Dena, who was frightened out of her wits.

"I'm all right. I was lost in thought and memory for a moment," I said, placing an unsteady hand on her arm. "I'll finish my meal here. Why don't you go to dinner? Surely it's time and you must be hungry."

"I am," she said.

"Then go. I'll be fine, here."

"If you're sure."

"I am." I wasn't, and might never be again after the events of the previous night, but I didn't want Dena to worry about me. I had enough worry for the both of us. Fyris was disintegrating, and High President Charkisul's safety looked to become a problem very soon. His opponents were plotting; I couldn't say how I knew that, I just did.

Dena flew away from the terrace, and I watched her bank with the winds rising about the castle, wishing I could do the same. What surprised me was that Ordin, Gurnil and Justis arrived shortly after Dena left. Ordin folded his wings and sat beside me on the bench while the other two stood nearby.

"We have some good news," Gurnil began. "Other news as well, some of it not nearly as good."

"What is that, Master Gurnil?" I asked, setting down my cup. It was nearly empty anyway, and my thirst was gone.

"Ardis will walk through the gate for his attack on Master Gurnil. The others will serve in the glassmaker's furnaces for six turns—two turns for each feather they pulled."

"Halthea will stay inside Jurris' quarters and wait on him as a Yellow Wing," Justis grumbled. He felt, just as I did, that her sentence was far too light. She'd cost Ardis his life.

"Then I wish to petition for Ardis' life," I said, standing.

"Quin, you have no standing here," Ordin said. "I wish it were otherwise, but that's the way things are. We are fortunate that the others were sentenced as they were for their misdeeds."

"Halthea should be the one walking through that gate," I snapped. "Or shoved through, just as her father was." Yes, it was a moment of misjudgment, but I couldn't recall the words, once I'd said them.

"What do you mean, just as her father was? He and her mother went through together."

"Treven was her father," I said. "Her foster father learned from her mother that he was not Halthea's father. He pushed her through first, then followed after. Treven was already dead, as you know."

"How in the name of Liron do you know that?" Justis exploded.

"I can't explain it. I just know it's true," I muttered, sitting down again and crossing arms over my chest defensively.

"That would explain much," Ordin muttered dryly.

"There's a way to find out," Gurnil offered. "I have feathers from both—Halthea and Treven."

"Are you suggesting?" Justis turned to Gurnil. "Never mind, I see that you are. Do it. I wish to know the results. Quin," he turned to me. "I have been ordered by my brother to watch over you carefully. Therefore, you will report to my quarters tomorrow, and take over the cleaning duties performed by the Yellow Wings every day. You may attend your studies after four hours of work, and run errands for me when I ask."

"Yes, Commander Justis." I inclined my head respectfully to him. My life was about to change. Again.

* * *

Fen didn't come out of his hiding place until after sundown. From then on, he would travel by night and hide by day until he reached Vhrist and the Queen. Things were more complicated than he ever imagined possible.

* * *

"There are books in my mother's library that describe such a thing, but it was never used to warn. Mother says Tandelis received the mind-messages from Elabeth whenever a visit was planned. He couldn't return a message, except by the usual means." Amlis shuffled books inside a leather bag he'd brought from Vhrist.

The bag was usually hidden in a special slot behind his heavy bed, and he and Rodrik had to work together to shove the huge frame aside in order to retrieve it.

"Why would a message come to Wolter instead of you?" Rodrik asked.

"I don't know. Damn. I don't have anything here that might explain it." Amlis shoved thin books and papers inside the bag with an agitated sigh. "It doesn't matter—Wolter arrived in time before Hirill could kill me. He says the voice warned him that he and I were in danger, and sent him to the stables to help."

"While you and the cook weren't connected before, you are now," Rodrik's voice and expression were wry.

"That's not true. Wolter handed Finder to me on the day I went looking for her. I can't believe how covered in soot and filth she was."

"Finder is dead, need I remind you? That is the only connection you and Wolter had, until now."

"I'm glad Deeds offered to show Wolter how to handle a sword. We need as many allies as we can muster."

* * *

"It is time to make our way to Vhrist, my King." Yevil's smile was as false as his heart when he dipped his head in Tamblin's presence. "It will be wise to get our troops prepared for the voyage by making sorties on the warships already built."

"Worried that they won't have their sea legs?" Tamblin quirked an eyebrow at Yevil. "No matter." He waved a hand, dismissing any reply Yevil might make. "You're right—we can't just load them onto a ship and expect everything to go well immediately. Alert the commanders. I'll give the message to the Crown Prince myself."

"As you say," Yevil bowed and left the King's chambers.

* * *

"Do you have any questions?"

It was obvious that being Commander of the Avii troops, as well as the King's brother, afforded some luxury. Justis had a wide window in his bedroom, in addition to a private terrace, a receiving area and a personal library outside his sitting room.

"Not about cleaning or straightening," I said.

"What do you have questions about?" One of Justis' black eyebrows rose, but there was a faint twinkle in his eyes, telling me it was all right to ask about other things.

"What keeps Fyris hidden?" I asked.

"Of all the questions waiting to be asked, you offer me that one?" Justis turned away to stare through the window. The sill was low, offering an uninterrupted view of the sea beyond the castle. Somewhere across those waters and past the curve of Siriaa, lay Fyris.

I held my breath, hoping he wasn't angry. Instead, his wings drooped as his shoulders sagged. "You may as well know," he said. "It's a spell. Elabeth told me once that a powerful wizard was responsible. I can't imagine anyone holding that much power, but Fyris remains hidden. Elabeth wasn't tolerant of lies, so perhaps it is the truth."

"The spell was placed on the land itself?"

"No." Justis turned back to me, then. "It is said that the Prince of Fyris' ring holds that power within it. Another thing I find difficult to accept—how could a spell such as that be held in something so small? Elabeth said as long as the ring stayed within Fyris' boundaries, the spell would work. If the ring is taken away, Fyris will be revealed."

Justis' answer chilled me and I shivered.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you familiar with the old tales from Fyris?" I asked. "The ones that say to be wise in making wishes?"

"Because they might come to pass and make you regret the wishing?" Justis nodded.

"Yes. Exactly." At that moment, I wanted to walk to Justis' terrace, sit on the grass that covered it and consider what Yevil truly intended to do.

Chapter 15
 

Halthea examined her wings in Jurris' wide mirror before hurling her hairbrush at the offending glass and shattering it. Shards of glass fell and crashed upon the wood floor of Jurris' dressing room. What did it matter that it was broken—the glassmakers would have another to replace it the moment Jurris asked.

He'd sent her maids away, too, and that infuriated her. She'd had red wings and was entitled to her maids. That filthy Orb and that aberration of a girl had robbed her of her birthright.

Nobody would call her Queen, now. Not with yellow wings.

"What in Liron's name is going on?" Jurris arrived and surveyed the mess Halthea made. "Clean that up. Immediately," he snapped.

"I'm not your servant," Halthea shouted.

"You have yellow wings. You're everyone's servant, now," Jurris hissed. "I've done everything I could to keep you from the gate. Clean that up and stay quiet. I have a meeting with the Guild Masters to attend."

"Pig!" Halthea shouted at Jurris' retreating back.

* * *

Many of the books on Justis' shelves hadn't been touched in a while, and the Yellow Wings who'd cleaned before my arrival hadn't touched them, either. I was dusting them when Justis walked in later to change clothes. He had a Guild Masters' meeting to attend with the King.

"Nasty work?" he queried as he walked past on the way to his closet.

"No. I don't consider dusting books nasty work. It allows me to consider what I'd like to read later."

"I can't believe you'd want to read any of it."

"I can't believe anyone wouldn't."

"You're a strange girl."

"That is nothing new," I replied, pulling down a thick book and wiping dust off the top before tending to the front and back cover. "People in Fyris thought I was mute because I never spoke."

"Why wouldn't you speak?"

"I don't think I could, until I was nine. After that, it was better if I didn't speak. Everybody thought I was mute and stupid. They said things around me that they wouldn't say, otherwise."

"And talking suddenly might get you killed."

"Exactly."

"How bad is it there?" he asked.

"As bad as you can imagine it is, it's worse. Timblor is dead, at the hands of his page. Tamblin is little more than Yevil's puppet. Yevil has attempted to kill Amlis at least three times; Hirill was spying for both sides and is now dead. Is there anything else you'd like to know?" I replaced the book and lifted down another.

Justis blinked dark eyes at me for a moment before muttering a soft curse. "Why should we worry about their deaths?" he added. "They're doing a fine job of killing themselves."

"That doesn't include the people and animals dying of the poison," I said. "Babies are dying. Animals are dying. People are sick from the wasting disease," I shrugged and rustled my feathers. "Kondar wonders where the poison is coming from. Fyris' shield keeps them from learning the answer."

"Kondar knows of the poison?" Justis' eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes. It is spreading far beyond Fyris' shores. When I stood upon the grass while we were in Kondar, I could feel it. The ground groaned at the sickness of it."

"I curse the day that fool killed Elabeth," Justis snapped and strode out of his suite.

"He's no fool," I whispered after Justis. "He's an intelligent evil."

* * *

"Kondar knows of the poison?" Gurnil frowned at Justis. "I thought the shield held it back."

"Somehow, it is escaping Fyris and bleeding into Kondar. Likely through seawater," Justis grumbled. "Elabeth would have held it at bay, just as she always did, had that fool not murdered her and the others."

"The First Ordinance forbids us from revealing Fyris," Ordin tossed up his hand in a helpless gesture.

"It also commands us to hold the poison at bay, but only one Red Wing held that ability. It was always the Queen, who passed it to her heir. Elabeth only had Halthea as an option for the longest time, and for obvious reasons, refused to confer the talent."

"She never thought to die as she did—in her prime," Gurnil huffed. "She waited to see Lirin's red wings I'm sure, before designating her as the heir."

"They couldn't be any other color; Camryn was the Queen's only mate," Justis observed. "Red Wings beget Red Wings."

"There was no question about Lirin's heritage or impending wing color," Gurnil sighed. "Until now."

* * *

"The data was collected by fishing vessels equipped to gather information," Edden Charkisul's Chief of Sciences reported. "You recall that we authorized the equipment and the expense months ago. We finally have results from all the vessels. It's frightening, as well as inexplicable."

"What do you mean, inexplicable?" Edden frowned.

"While the equipment indicates that the poison is seeping from the ocean floor in these areas," the scientist tapped several points along a three-dimensional map, "the drones we've sent down find nothing. The poison is carried in the seawater itself, and is more concentrated along these lines," he drew a track along the map, halfway between Kondar and the southern ice cap.

"How can that be? If it isn't coming from the seabed, then where is it originating?"

"You know there's only volcanic rock from a long-dead volcano field here," the scientist drew a circle on the hovering map. "We've sent drones burrowing through the sand to take samples of the volcanic rock, but there's nothing there, either, except the residue that's infecting other sites just the same. We don't send ships there, because the jagged outcroppings beneath the waters can damage the hulls."

"I'm well aware of the topography of our planet," Edden rubbed his forehead. "This is untenable, and only lends credence to those claiming it's a blight from the gods. We have to find the source, then see if we can contain it."

"We'll get back to work, but I and my staff are at a loss as to where to begin."

"I appreciate your efforts. Keep me informed," Edden mumbled.

"I will."

* * *

"Quin?" The voice woke me after I'd fallen asleep. In my hazy mind, it sounded like Berel Charkisul's voice.

"What?" I mumbled, attempting to wake. I seldom slept so heavily, but I'd been more than weary when I'd gone to bed.

"It's me. Berel."

When my eyes opened enough to see, I found the tab-vid he'd given me glowing beneath my pillow. Until that moment, I had no idea it could be used as a communication device. I was also puzzled that it worked inside Avii castle, but shoved that thought aside.

"Berel?" I tapped the screen of the tab-vid after pulling the device into my hands.

"Good. I was worried I wouldn't reach you," Berel sighed. "I have a question."

"What's that?"

"Do you know anything about the poison?"

Berel's directness numbed my brain for a moment. "I don't know very much," I replied when I could get my mind—and my mouth—to work again. "I know it exists, but I have no idea what it is or how it got here."

"That's pretty much what we know, too," he grumbled. I could see his troubled frown in the tab-vid's screen. "It seems to be increasing, but nobody can find the source of it. It's making people sick. I know how that feels—to be so sick."

"I know," I said, shaking my head at him and praying he wouldn't ask if I knew the source of the poison.

"Are any Avii sick, yet? Father says there is evidence that many fishermen have fallen ill because the poison is in the fish they net in the ocean."

"I haven't noticed any Avii who are ill, and I think they'd be brought to me if they were," I said.

"Do you think it's safer where you are?" he asked.

"I don't know. It may be that the Avii aren't as susceptible to the poison, but eventually, even they might fall ill."

"Why is it showing up now?" Berel mumbled distractedly. I didn't answer, hoping he hadn't meant it as a direct question to me. As it was, I didn't hold all the facts, and only knew the former Avii Queen had somehow held the poison at bay in the past.

* * *

"This is impossible." Amlis surveyed the troops assembled outside the castle. "Half of them have no uniforms, and even less training. They can't even stand in a straight line for inspection." He and Rodrik, both mounted, watched as Tamblin's officers shouted at the newly recruited soldiers. Uneven lines stretched across the courtyard, and few knew how to stand properly.

"While your father's goals were ambitious, there were not enough experienced soldiers to train what he recruited."

"Recruited is the wrong word," Amlis snorted. "He drafted. All the principalities knew they'd be taxed heavier and the royal arm would be held against their necks if they failed to cooperate. Warrel wouldn't have cooperated if they'd had a choice."

"At least your two new men-at-arms are already trained well enough."

"Is there any way to bring Deeds and Wolter with us?"

"Deeds, yes. Wolter might be a bit of a problem," Rodrik shrugged. "Does your father intend to consume camp rations on the road, or trust the inns to serve proper food?"

"A good question. Let's find out," Amlis' smile was grim.

* * *

"How is this possible?" Firth Quel, Edden Charkisul's Chief of Sciences, asked.

"If we hadn't gone back to reexamine these samples, we wouldn't have found it," Firth's assistant sighed. "While it appeared to be nuclear waste at first, we dug deeper and found the organism."

"And you're saying the organism produces waste more toxic than nuclear waste? That's impossible," Firth shook his head in disbelief. "Kondar only flirted with nuclear power until it was deemed unsafe and all the experiments were shut down. We knew we didn't produce enough waste to cause this contamination, and now we find this."

"It's only a single organism," the assistant cautioned. "We'll have to search for more. This could be an aberration, as we don't have more samples to verify our findings."

"You say this one is dead? Is there any way to discover how much of the waste it might produce and how quickly?"

"It died shortly after we collected it, so I can't say for sure. I fear it may reproduce much like a virus, and who knows what it feeds upon?" Firth's assistant said. "Our only sample is dead and we have little else to go on."

* * *

"We leave for Vhrist tomorrow. Is that enough time to prepare?" Amlis asked. He, Rodrik, Wolter and Deeds had gathered in their chosen meeting place—in Finder's old sleeping quarters, which Deeds has claimed for his own. "I hope you don't mind that I've chosen you as my personal servant. It's what Father would allow."

"I feel safer with you," Wolter sighed. "I don't trust many, here. At least I can prepare meals for you and your personal guard."

"That will be much appreciated," Amlis replied. "How are the blade lessons coming along?"

"He's doing well—for a cook," Deeds grinned.

* * *

Berel studied the time-lapse vids carefully, noting every movement outside Avii castle. He'd studied the inside bowl initially, but no activity could be seen there, other than Avii flying back and forth while animals grazed and groves and fields were tended.

He'd turned to the perimeter of the castle, then, watching the thin strips of sand surrounding it. There'd been no word or records of Quin until recent months, but there had been two instances when the Avii had requested assistance from Kondari physicians.

If Quin could heal his sickness, she could heal anything. He'd also learned, from listening in on Melis Norwal and his father's conversations, that Quin had no DNA connection to the Avii. That meant she'd come from somewhere else, and it wasn't difficult to see that she hadn't flown there—her wings were barely forming when she arrived in Kondar's capital the first time.

He'd set his comp to the designated time periods, when he imagined Quin had arrived at Avii castle, then asked it to account for any anomalies in activity there.

Berel had chosen a late hour, when his father and servants thought him asleep, to test his theories. He was ready to give up, however—two hours had passed with nothing of note occurring. Then his small comp beeped; it had found something. Berel stared at the images, his mouth open in surprise.

* * *

Halthea sneered at the two Yellow Wings who'd been her servants. They desired to treat her as less then they? She'd show them. She'd show that foolish half-blood, too, but it required careful planning. Perhaps she'd fly to Kondar afterward, and convince them to take her in. They were fascinated by the Avii, and would leap at the chance to accept her.

For now, she'd pull sheets from beds and make them up if she were forced. If Jurris thought to give her clothes and jewelry away to Wimla and Vorina, she'd show them, too.

* * *

I didn't mind cleaning Justis' quarters, and he seldom asked me to run errands for him. In the afternoons, I studied with Master Ordin, had dinner with Dena and talked, or, if Gurnil sat with us, we'd discuss books. Dena turned to reading at night, just to keep up with us.