A Secret Place

  . . . These electrical currents studied by lightning mage scholars have produced some . . . well, puns aside, their findings are remarkable but hardly more useful than what other magics have already achieved. Once again, we have old writings that talk of many uses, particularly man-made technology powered by its own electrical current. . . . Such marvels must have taken centuries of learning to produce. Really, though, it seems impractical in the first place, considering that most of this technology sounds like something that mid-level Coaction can easily beat out: any scholar wishing to produce heat could just hire a fire mage, and so on, not to mention the volatile Energy Field in the sky which can be channeled so easily without the help of a device. And of course, most metals found on Mani conduct only a fraction of the energy put into them, even silver and gold.

  — From Secrets of Mani, by Sor the Lark

  (Dri’Shal 20, 997—Night Season)

  Back in Mydia’s tower, I found the princess at her own desk, studying much like Rhidea, which was something I rarely saw her do at all. One would think that a princess would have all sorts of teachers around, tutoring her, but even her Coaction tutor was someone whom she only saw once a week.

  “Mydia?” I asked. Julia had already left the room, and Chara had also departed after the lunch, so no one should overhear us.

  She looked up quickly. “Oh. You’re back. You’ve been a while. Where did you go, the gardens?”

  Why on Mani would I wander off to the gardens? Me, a maid? “No, Lady Rhidea had asked me to come see her.”

  “Oh, really? What for?”

  “Well . . .” I wanted to tell her everything right now, but she looked busy studying her book, which was something I did not want to discourage at all. Rhidea seemed to think it important that she study that book of hers. Instead, I changed the subject. “Just a chat. How is the book? What’s it about?”

  “Oh. Well, it’s a history of magic. A very . . . interesting one.”

  I came over and put a hand on her shoulder, looking at the parchment pages with the eyes of an illiterate commoner. “Why do you think your mother wanted you to have it?”

  “I don’t know.” Mydia sighed, and went back to reading the book. “I wish I did. It is rather intriguing, at least.”

  “I’m sure it’s very educational,” I joked. She didn’t even seem to hear me. I left her to her studying and went to find something to do. On my way out, I passed Julia, who was acting as royal snack courier at the order of the princess, and convinced the girl to let me have a couple of fresh koiberry fritters. Then I went on my way, stuffing them in my mouth, to see if I could find my friend ‘Roger’.

  The Palace was busy this time of day, especially after the grand luncheon that had just ended, but so great was the bustle of activity that I was totally concealed. No one minded me, nor stopped me to ask where I was headed. Errands, they would assume. In reality, no one cared about the servants anyway.

  I headed to the back of the Palace, where the barracks of the Armed Guard branched out from side to side. I asked around for Roger, the new recruit, and was told the number of the room in which he could be found. Upon reaching it, I poked my head in and saw Kaen and four others lounging around, eating the last of their noonday meal. And like total slobs, no less. They let them bring food outside the mess hall and eat it in their rooms? Mydia would never do a thing like that.

  Finally, I signaled his attention with a glance, and he quickly shoved the last of his food down and told his companions that he would be right back. Stepping outside, he demanded, “Lyn, what are you doing here?”

  “Shhh! It’s Podda.”

  “Oh, very funny. No, seriously. You haven’t ever been assigned to clean my room before. Why now? Did something change?” He looked more closely at my servant’s garb. “Oh, did you move up like you said? Where to?”

  “I thought you wouldn’t notice. I’m the princess’s handmaiden now.”

  Kaen crossed his arms. “You’ll have to do better than that, Podda.”

  “I’m being serious. And that’s only half of it. But that’s beside the point. Look, we have to talk sometime. We really have to talk.” I lowered my voice. “Kaen, do you know the Palace Gardens?”

  “Of course.”

  “Meet me there tonight, after the clouds roll in. I’ll bring someone.”

  Kaen looked skeptical. “That’s easier said than done. Lights out is—"

  “It’s about Mandrie and Phoebe. I’ve got a few leads. Surely, if anyone can, you can find a way to sneak out and meet me in the Palace Gardens tonight.”

  “Well, yes . . . I suppose. But this had better be good. Who is it you want me to see?”

  “Just be there, all right?”

  He nodded, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “I said I would. But I have to get back now. See you later.”

  “See you.” I retraced my steps back to the Palace before anyone could intercept me and start asking questions. I hurried back to Mydia’s rooms, careful to avoid getting in anyone’s way. Even the princess’s handmaiden wasn’t out of danger of a cuff on the ear for bumping into a soldier or mage.

  By the time I reached Mydia, my fatigue was starting to get to me. Chara was there, complaining and chastening her for something in her cheery and humble way, but I didn’t care. “My lady, if it is not a bother to you, I’m very tired today and could use a short nap.”

  Mydia glanced at me. “That’s fine, Podda; go ahead.” She focused back on the grey-headed handmaiden. “Now, what were you saying about the sweets, Chara?”

  Chara flung a grouchy glare my way and opened her mouth to utter an objection, but she promptly closed it and went back to instructing Mydia on how to maintain her royal figure. She had no power to tell me no when Mydia had already allowed it.

  Ignoring them both, I went and laid myself down to rest. I got a solid two hours of sleep before waking at the sound of someone walking past. It was just Julia, but I should have been up already. I went back in to see Mydia, and found her reading her book once more. She had gotten a good way through and had placed markers in the pages at certain points. A sheet of parchment sat beside her, which she scribbled on infrequently. I wished for all the world that I could read, but I would be doing well just to scratch out my own name. Lentha had shown me a little bit more, but without the need to ever use it, the knowledge had simply faded away—which was rather strange, given how accurate my memory was about a lot of things.

  “Mydia,” I said, getting her attention. Chara was gone now, and so with Julia off on errands, it was just the two of us.

  “Oh, you’re up.” Mydia looked up from her reading and yawned widely, rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms. “Oh my, I think I’ve been here for hours. I didn’t know books on magic were this interesting.”

  “I thought you said it was just a history.”

  “Of magic.” Mydia looked surprisingly excited, despite an amazing three hours spent studying a dusty old book. “It’s fun, and I’ve been learning a lot. It’s a difficult read, full of big words and penned in an old script . . . but my, this scholar knew what he was talking about. I don’t know who he is, though—or . . . was. I suppose I’ll have to ask Rhidea.”

  “Oh? It doesn’t say his name anywhere in it?” I asked in surprise.

  “Well, it does: Sor the Lark. But I have never heard the name before, and I’m assuming that’s a pseudonym. Whoever this Sor was, he was obviously well read in just about every subject: history, Coaction, Authority, politics, cultures, lore . . . everything. Right now, I’m learning about the different classifications of Coaction, but it jumps around here and there . . . I’ll have to read the whole thing before I have him all figured out.”

  “Tonight?” That would be quite the feat for the princess I knew.

  “Auroras above, no!” she said with a laugh, placing a page holder in the book. Closing it up carefully, she rubbed her temples. “No, I need a break.” She got up from her seat and stretched. “How about Coaction? Have you practiced at all since yesterday? I can’t wait to see.”

  “Not . . . really,” I said, although that wasn’t technically true.

  “Well, let’s do it. Come on.” Mydia closed the wooden door and locked it from the inside. “There. Nobody can bother us now.”

  “Chara has the key,” I pointed out.

  Mydia made a face. “Well, at least we’ll have more warning. Come on, try it again—see if you can make another flame like yesterday.”

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  I sighed and tried it. I visualized the flame springing to life in my hand, and it came after a short delay: a flickering flame the size of a large candle’s. I tried to keep it safely in check, as Rhidea had warned me.

  “Ooh, so pretty.” The way Mydia stared at the flame, I almost thought she was going to reach out and touch it. “And we have no idea how powerful you are. I need to talk to Rhidea about you.”

  “Rhidea . . . already knows,” I told her.

  “What? How? Is she going to teach you herself or something?” Mydia seemed to like the thought of that.

  I shook my head. “We talked about a few other things as well.”

  “Like what?” Mydia asked, eyes flicking downward to the flame still in my hand.

  As I watched, the flame flickered out. Pesky little thing. Apparently, I couldn’t just make it do what I wanted once I had it. Oh, well. “Mydia,” I said slowly. “Could you come with me to the Palace Gardens tonight?”

  She snorted. “Me, come with you?”

  “My friend is going to meet me there,” I said, trying to get her attention.

  “Friend? I didn’t know you had a friend.”

  “I know. I . . . I’m going to tell you everything. But later. Tonight, when he can be there.”

  “Wait, it’s a he? Don’t tell me . . . come on! Tell me, tell me! Who is it?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mydia, it’s not like that. I’m trying to be serious here.” I could never tell if she was going to act mature or childish.

  “All right. Well, I trust you, so I suppose I can wait. How about the flame, can you make it again? It went out on you already.”

  I grimaced. “It wasn’t behaving very well. Look, I’m kind of tired . . .” But she pushed me, so I tried it again, focusing my mind to visualize a flame in my hand. The flame finally popped up, and then another appeared unbidden in my left hand. Mydia actually took a step back.

  “Wow . . .” she said breathlessly. “Just like Kallyn. Can you make them different colors, or make them spin in the air? Or . . . or . . .”

  I tried some different experiments, per my liege lady’s request, including changing the flames’ color, size and shape, and spinning them . . . Every single trick ended in complete failure, except the last couple, which ended in failure and almost burnt down the entire room. Chara would have a fit if she saw. Forget her, Rhidea would’ve killed me.

  However, it was at this time that Mydia revealed her true gifting to be in the water branch of magic—which was apparently both broad and useful, particularly when it came to quickly dousing stray flames. Her control of the substance was astonishing; she pulled moisture right out of the air and quenched the infant flames with precision.

  As though nothing had happened, the princess began to test me to see if I had any other coactive talents, but nothing worked except the flame. She showed me how she created illusions of age difference and other such things using her secondary branch, Perception, but I was no good at it. I did get her to give me a magical hair-dying as Rhidea had asked. Mydia gasped as she saw the pale grey underneath, having never known that my hair was such a strange color. She tried to get it as close to the natural brown dye as she could.

  We were just finishing up with the hair illusion when Chara arrived, banging on the door and demanding to know why it was locked, “Milady.” Rattling the key in the door, she opened it and Mydia jumped out at her, as though she had simply set up for a small practical joke. “Boo!”

  “Oh! My goodness, milady! Don’t scare me like that.”

  Mydia grinned. “What? It’s fun.”

  “Not everything that’s fun is beneficial, Your Ladyship” Chara admonished, recovering from her shock. I was trying to keep from laughing, but I think a small snort came out, because Chara glanced suspiciously my way with an ugly glare.

  “Well, I brought your clean laundry, My Lady. Here you are.” Chara brought some freshly laundered dresses over and hung them in the adjoining wardrobe room. On her way back, she saw the burnt patch on the carpet and gasped. “Milady! What happened? You dropped another candle? Just look at this. . . .”

  The old maid insisted on sticking around to do some cleaning and then needlework, perhaps just to bug us or, more likely, to keep an eye on us and make sure we didn’t start any more fires. Chara knew I was a favorite of Mydia’s, even if she couldn’t figure out why. Mydia took me over to her sunroom and shut that door instead. Here, we could overlook the nearby River Ardencaul while at the same time practicing magic. The view of vine-encrusted castle walls and the starlit sky above was both gorgeous and peaceful.

  “You can’t just make us invisible when she’s around?” I asked her off-handedly.

  Mydia shook her head. “That’s not how Perception works. Not without powerful Authority, anyway. I can’t make something look like nothing. If you held very still, I could make you look like the window behind you, but the effect would be ruined as soon as someone looked at you from a different angle.”

  I nodded. That made sense. Such a pity Coaction couldn’t just work like the magic in the stories.

  Mydia worked with me for almost an hour, attempting to coax out new Coactive abilities from inside of me (with a zero-percent success rate). She claimed to still be recharging from studying her book earlier, and had nothing better to do with her time.

  Finally, we called an end to the experimentation in order to start getting Mydia ready for dinner before Chara came and made us. The evening dinner was to be even more splendid than earlier, or so I had heard. I hoped for the maids’ and servants’ sake that every night of Rhidea’s stay would not be this big of a production. It was supposed to be a sort of ‘welcome home’ feast, and would last for hours. What would Julia and I do?

  Returning to the wardrobe room, we found Julia, and she and I got Mydia all dressed and primped to look lovely before shipping her off to the dinner party.

  Guests were already swarming the spacious dining hall when we arrived. Mydia, of course, was to sup with the other high nobility and Rhidea at the honored table in the front of the great hall. The High Mage gave me a small wink when she saw me, but that was all. Julia and I accompanied Mydia to her seat next to her father, and I held my breath as usual around Lord Kalceron. I don’t think Julia liked being near him any more than I.

  We withdrew quietly to the kitchens. Some of the cooks and maids gave the dark-haired girl a scowl, warning against snitching food as was her wont. But we just rolled up our sleeves and washed our hands to help out where we could. Julia wanted to bake things, but the cooks set her to readying plates and dishes to be laden with food and carried out to serve to the guests.

  After a half hour, when things were winding down a little bit, we took our leave, snatching some goodies as we went. “Let’s go to my favorite spot,” Julia suggested.

  “Where’s that?”

  “I’ll show you.” She led me toward the back of the Palace and out a small door. The city wall, which connected with many of the Palace’s outreaching spires, loomed in front of us, closing us off in a box the size of a large room. Moss grew up this side of the wall as well as the stone faces of the Palace’s interior walls around us. A stone trough was dug in the ground before the wall, running underneath to the sides and filled with flowing water, crystal clear as it reflected the stars of the night sky above.

  “Julia . . . what is this place?” I had certainly never been here before, and was lost as to its function.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. My guess is that no one else really knows about it. Nobody seems to, anyway. No idea what it was made for. You’d think they would have just conserved space in the Palace and not put it in here. Look.” She turned around, and I followed her finger as she pointed up towards the inner walls of the Palace. “Up there is the princess’s sunroom, way up there above the wall. But, because of the lip under all the windows, you can’t even see this place from any of the rooms that look out at the wall.”

  I stared up, taking in the architecture and the starlit sky above. I made a mental note of the layout of the walls. “So you come here to relax?”

  She nodded. “It’s quiet. I’ve always come here when Mydia doesn’t need me. Maybe grab an apple tart if they have extras, then come out here to just . . . sit. And think.”

  “What do you think about?” It sounded like a dumb question as it came out of my mouth, but I was curious.

  “Well . . . my family, mostly. About the days when I didn’t have to work at the Palace. I dream of the day when I can be free.”

  “Wait, have to? What do you mean? You didn’t come here of your own free will?”

  Julia laughed bitterly. “Who would? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like the princess enough; she’s not like they all say. If they pick you for her handmaiden or something, and you live as long and as usefully as Chara—and you manage to stay below the nobility’s noses—you’ll be all right, but . . . most of them come because they need money. Others have debts to House Kalceron, or their families did, and came to work it off. I . . .”

  “That was you?” I asked, knowing the answer already.

  She nodded. “Yes. My brother died when I was really young, and he was all that my father had. And . . . well, we had debts. Father sent me here to work them off. I had three more years, as of a year ago. It would be two years now, but . . .”

  “Oh. What happened?”

  Julia began to shake her head slowly, and then faster and harder, as though wishing she had not brought up bad memories. “Father was always on the sick side. Apparently, he took ill and died . . . right on my birthday. Three more years . . . that would have been all.” Julia sat down on the stone step by the door, and I did likewise.

  “What about your mother?” I had a bad feeling about this story.

  “They killed her.”

  I nodded, speechless. It was not an uncommon story: The father was unable to pay his dues. The family was poor, and so the children were sold into bondage to work off the family’s debt. The father took sick or was imprisoned, or anything like that. The mother was left to die, or was murdered in secret by Lord Kalceron’s underlings. No one said any more. Such was the way of his cruelty. He needed no more widows. What did they do for his economy?

  “That’s horrible, Julia,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You probably don’t know what it’s like. I’m not the only one, but . . . now I’m left as a permanent slave to Mydia. She doesn’t even know—she thinks I’m just here to make money for my family, and why would I tell her?”

  I was silent for a moment. “I actually . . . almost know what it’s like. I was raised an orphan. I don’t know where or to whom I was born, but my mother took pity on me. Instead of just smothering me as a baby, she spirited me away to a legal orphanage instead. A small one, run by a kind old woman. She raised me from a little child, like the mother I never had. And one day, bandits killed her. They killed everyone and burnt the orphanage down to the ground. Nearly all of my friends . . . everyone I’d ever known . . . gone.”

  “Wow,” Julia said hoarsely. “That’s rough. How can you stand it?”

  “I don’t know. Same as you, I guess.” There was more to my story than just that, but I was not about to share it all.

  “I wish . . .” Julia shook her head. “I wish I could get out of here and be rid of this place. I know they’d kill me if I tried to escape, though. This little spot is the farthest I’ve ever gotten.” She barked a laugh. “I wish I could climb the ivy here and disappear over the wall.”

  I looked absently at the dense growth of green vines on the Palace wall. “Julia, I don’t exactly have any more of a place to go back to than you, but . . . I’m going to get out. When I do . . . I’ll take you with me.”

  A tear glimmered in her eye, breaking and falling down her cheek, despite her confused frown. “Really? But how?” Somehow, somewhere deep down, she almost seemed to believe I could do it. If she trusted me on some level, then I would do anything to make sure that trust was not misplaced.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I admitted.