《Guild Mage: Apprentice》


 Glossary

    Glossary


    A


    Alban Cooper, Mayor of Whitehill - Father of Mirabel, and a real piece of work. Elected by the town, not appointed, which is why Baron Henry puts up with him.


    Aldo Cushing - Castle Chirurgeon of Whitehill, and Master Chirurgeon of the Order of Chirurgeons. His position at Baron Henry¡¯s Court is afortable one; he has tended the health of the Summersets for decades, and delivered Henry himself.


    Airis Ka Reimis - A merchant from the Elden trading city of Al¡¯Fenthia,e to Whitehill to purchase a particrly mana-rich harvest after the eruption. A member of House Keria.


    Al¡¯Fenthia - ¡¯High Pass,¡¯ a trading city situated between Menis Aelvic and Menis Kesic, under the control of House Keria.


    Aluthet¡¯Staia - Manastone. While it appears to be gray or brown on the outside, like a sort of thin shell, a radiant cerulean light shines from within, peeking out from the exterioryer. The more mana is infused into the stone, the brighter the line shines; when the mana is used up, the stone dulls until it appears dead, but the stone remains capable of epting more mana. Manastones are used as batteries, and often integrated into sigils to power an enchantment, or worn set into jewelry by Mages. The Bald Peak Quarry Rift is one of the few productive sources of Manastone within the Kingdom of Lucania, and provides the Barony of Whitehill¡¯s most valuable export.


    Annora, Magia, Professor of Healing - Professor who taught both Rhea and Julianne at Coral Bay.


    Archibald - First Footman at Castle Whitehill; a middle-aged man who essentially runs the servants¡¯ quarters and the staff.


    B


    Bald Peak - A lonely, rocky bald prominence visible from miles away, the guardian of the grassy valley below. A shaft descends into the heart of the mountain from an entrance above the treeline, leading down into the quarries and mines where the workers toil. The most valuable prizes are veins of Manastone, but traces of silver can also be found asionally. The entire operation is made more dangerous by the presence of a Rift beneath the mountain, which regrly spawns a variety of subterranean Mana Beasts, and requires regr culling by the local barons, the Summersets.


    ckwood, Master - Author of ckwood¡¯s Bestiary, and a professor at the College of V?dic Grammar.


    C


    Calder¡¯s Landing - Calder¡¯s Landing was founded by the second expedition Captain Calder led to the western continent of Varuna; the first attempt at re-establishing a settlement on Varuna was the ill-fated Mango Ind camp, which was found devastated and lifeless when ships came to re-supply the adventurers who remained behind. Calder chose a more defensible location for Calder¡¯s Landing: a high ridge descending to a wide natural harbor, with a view both of the ocean, and the surroundingnd for miles.


    Caspian Loredan, Archmagus - Author of An Introduction to the Principles of Grammar.


    Cold Harbor - A fishing vige near Mountain Home.


    Coral Bay - The location of the College of V?dic Grammar in the kingdom of Lucania. The college is run by the mages¡¯ guild, though it epts all students who can meet its criteria. The greatest repository of magical research and expertise in the kingdom.


    D


    Dancing Lady, The - The only Inn at Calder¡¯s Landing, owned and operated by Taika, an Elden woman.


    E


    Emma Forester - A young girl who lives in The Lower Banks, daughter of Kale.


    G


    Gretta - Former head cook at Castle Whitehill, now semi-retired to the position of a kitchen maid.


    Griselda Mason - The daughter of the head of the Hall of Bricyers and Masons in Whitehill Upon Aspen, and a student of Master Mage Grenfell.


    H


    Henry Summerset, Baron Whitehill - A fit man, still young and vital, and in his prime as a warrior. Henry has left thenkiness of youth behind, and keeps a well-trimmed, sandy beard with just a hint for red in it than his hair. Only a few years ago, Henry traded a V?dic goblet to King Rnd as part of the agreement to wed Lady Julianne, a royal bastard.


    I


    Ilmari ka V?inis k?n B?lris - Head of the council of elders at Mountain Home; father of Keri, uncle of Sohvis, brother of V?ina.


    Inkeris ka Ilmari k?n B?lris - A young warrior of the Vakansa, born to the Unconquered House of B?lris and promised to his second cousin, Riika.


    J


    Jo - A street girl in Whitehill; filthy and too skinny.


    Julianne, Baroness Whitehill - Julianne¡¯s position as a bastard daughter of the king at once made her presence an ufortable one at court, but also ensured she upied a position of incredible privilege from a very young age. She has been raised to be a well-breddy, and looks the part, with pale skin and graceful movements.


    Jurian of Carinthia, Guildmage - A young recruiter for the College of V?dic Grammar.


    K


    Kale Forester - A hunter and single father who lives in Whitehill; he is regrly chosen for Culling the local rift due to his skill at killing and butchering mana-beasts. He has a daughter, Emma, but lost his wife two winters past to illness.


    Kazimir Grenfell - Court Mage to Baron Henry, Magis Genfell is responsible for providing a basic education in V?dic Grammar to local children with sufficient talent, as well as monitoring the Bald Peak Quarry Rift for signs that it is in need of culling.


    Keremor - A rift near Menis Breim, centered on a boiling, toxic spring.


    L


    Lendh ka Dakruim - A kingdom to the south and east of Lucania, known for its spices.


    Liv Brodbeck - A scullery maid at Castle Whitehill, the bastard daughter of the head cook, Maggie Brodbeck, and an unknown father. She is twelve years old, but in size and development looks closer to six. Her bones are brittle, and easily broken while ying with other children. She works from morning until night in the kitchens with her mother, with little respite other than an hour of leisure here or there, and learning to sing with her mother. Her hair is white, but often looks gray or yellowed because it is filthy, and her eyes are the bright blue of a winter sky.


    M


    Margaret Brodbeck - The head cook at Castle Whitehill, and the unwed mother of Liv Brodbeck. 36 years old, and became pregnant after the visit of a delegation from north of the Mountains, when she was only 23 years old. She retains a beautiful singing voice, and leads the kitchen work-songs.


    Millicent - Queen of Lucania, formerly of House Sherard.


    Mirabel Cooper - Daughter of Whitehill¡¯s Mayor, Alban Cooper, Mirabel is part of the rising merchant ss in Lucania.


    Mountain Home: The stronghold of House B?lris, build along the slopes of Menis Breim.


    N


    Nighthawk Wind Dancer - Chief of the Red Shield Tribe, father of Wren.


    R


    Red Shield Tribe - A tribe native to Veruna, camping to the north of Calder¡¯s Landing; led by Nighthawk Wind Dancer.


    Rhea of Fairford Vige (Auntie Rhea) - A no-nonsense woman of 54 years, Rhea has delivered just about every baby in the valley. She has a reputation as a skilled midwife and herbalist, and has picked up quite a few charms over the years.


    Riika t?r Calevis k?n B?lris - A graceful and talented dancer of the Unconquered House of B?lris, promised to her second cousin, Inkeris ka Ilmari.


    Rnd III - King of Lucania. Baroness Julianne is his daughter from an affair prior to his marriage to the queen.


    S


    Severa - A whaler¡¯s wife at Cold Harbor.


    Sohvis ka Auris k?n B?lris - Cousin to Keri and Rika; the three grew up together as close friends. Son of V?ina.


    Sophie - A maid at Castle Whitehill.


    Stonebat - A mana beastmonly produced by the Bald Peak Rift, capable of tracking sources of mana, even from a great distance.


    T


    Taika - Owner and operator of The Dancing Lady, and possibly the best chef in Calder¡¯s Landing.


    Tom - Third Footman at Castle Whitehill.


    V


    V?dic Lords (or Ladies) - The dead gods of both the Eld and humanity, who walked alone in the first age of the world. ording to some sources, the V?dim did not originate here, but either traveled to this world, or built it themselves from nothing. It is said they could use their magic to create bridges between worlds, and they certainlyid the portal stones that are still used to teleport today. By the time of the V?dic War, many of these elder gods had already passed beyond the world of mortals; of those that remained, three,ter known as the Holy Trinity, took the side of the younger races, while the others were cast down. While many names have been lost to time, a partial list of V?dim includes:


    Antris - Lord of Machines


    Asuris, Lord of Night


    Arvatis - Lord of Purity.


    B?lris - Lord of Light.


    Celris - Lord of Cold and Winter.


    Ceria - Lady of Thorns


    Iravata - Lady of Wyrms


    Ractia - Lady of Blood


    Sitia - Lady of Changes


    Sivis - Lord of Storms


    Tamiris - Lord of Potential


    V?ina T?r V?inis k?n B?lris - Sister of Ilmari, mother of Sohvis, aunt of Keri. A member of the council of elders at Mountain Home.


    Valtteri Ka Auris k?n Syv? - An ambassador sent by the Vakansa thirteen years ago, who stayed briefly at Castle Whitehill on his way to the capital.


    Varuna - The western continent, abandoned by most Eld and humans after the defeat of the old gods. Only in the past few years has a settlement been established at Calder¡¯s Landing.


    W


    Whit Cotter, ¡¯Big Whit¡¯ - Champion of every bare-knuckle match at each fair in Whitehill for the past twenty years, this massive farmer has put on a bit of extra weight, without losing any strength.


    Whitehill Upon Aspen - A walled castle town which is the heart of the Barony of Whitehill, located on the banks of the River Aspen, downstream from Bald Peak. The castle itself is built on a low, rocky hill overlooking a stretch of the Aspen River. The hot sulfur spring on the hill feeds down into the Aspen, increasing the size of the river past this point. The lower river ranges from thirty to fifty feet wide, with a rocky bed and shallow waters that give rise to the asional rapids or white water. Mountains surround the valley on every side, and the town itself is located at a deceptively high elevation; visitors often remark they need time to adjust to the thin mountain air. Whitehill is divided into two districts: The Lower Banks, where many of the less desirable businesses and people have been shunted, and The Hill, which includes the manors and town-houses of the knights in Baron Henry¡¯s service, as well as the Temple of the Trinity.


    William - Second Footman at Castle Whitehill.


    Words of Power - The basic element of High Magic, these are core concepts expressed in the V?dguage that serve as the activeponent in spells. Words of power must be imprinted by a mage, a process that involves meditation on the root concept of the word to bring one¡¯s mind into alignment with that aspect of reality. Once learned, a word of power may be in conjunction with other elements of the V?dguage to construct a spell. Words of power that have appeared to this point include:


    - ?ter: A word that causes burning, ignition, or me


    - Aluth: This word embodies pure magical force and essence, and allows the maniption of raw mana


    - Cel: The word of frost and ice


    - Savel: A word associated with sunlight


    - Ters: The word of dehydration, drying, and thirst


    Wren Wind Dancer - A huntress at the Frost Fair to sell furs, and a stranger to Whitehill. A member of the Red Shield Tribe, and daughter of Nighthawk.

 1. The Room of Curiosities

    When Liv Brodbeck was twelve years old, she saved a girl from drowning in the river, during the frost fair at Whitehill Upon Aspen.


    The morning of the fair, she woke warm and safe, wrapped in her mother¡¯s arms on the cot they shared in the servant¡¯s quarters of Castle Whitehill. They¡¯d wrapped up in wool nkets the night before, to ward off the winter chill. Even better were the soft furs they had bought on a market day two years ago, from Master Forester, the Baron¡¯s woodsman. Liv had asked her mother once - wasn¡¯t it funny that the best hunter in the town was named for the woods? - and been shushed in return.


    "That¡¯s how it is for most people," Maggie Brodbeck had told her. "Someone¡¯s grandfather¡¯s grandfather got their name by doing something well, and taught their son how to do the job. They¡¯ve all been Millers or Tanners ever since."


    "What did my father do?" Liv had asked, and that had been the end of the conversation, earning her a rap on the knuckles with a wooden spoon.


    This morning, she hugged Rosie, her rag doll, to her chest, screwed her eyes up tight, and pretended not to hear the horologe in the kitchen chiming the sixth bell.


    "Up and out of bed, my dove," her mother murmured, and pressed a kiss onto Liv¡¯s cheek before pulling the nkets off. Mama always smelled of spices: clove, nutmeg, cardamom and mace.


    "I don¡¯t wanna," Livined, scrunching up her shoulders against the winter cold. A linen shift and stockings were hardly enough to stay warm.


    "You want to sleep through a market day, is that it? Sit up and let me at your hair."


    Market day promised sweet treats - and this was no ordinary market day, but a frost fair. Liv couldn¡¯t remember thest one; they were only held when the river froze thick enough to support the weight of everyone in town. She sat up, but kept her eyes closed while her mother pulled off her night cap and went to work with a fine toothedb of polished Aspen wood. It didn¡¯t take long; her hair was very fine, hardly ever tangled, and wasn¡¯t good for anything but hanging straight down or being pulled back.


    "There," Mama said after onest sweep of theb. With quick, practiced movements she tied Liv¡¯s hair up in a tight bun. "Get yourself dressed, now, and off with you. The hearth won¡¯t light itself."


    Shivering, Liv stripped off the shift and hose she¡¯d slept in, kicking them across the stone floor in a tangle, then hurried into the clean clothes set out before they¡¯d gone to bed. It wouldn¡¯t warm her up, exactly, but being dressed was better than being bare. Her hose were thick wool, at least: a luxury only possible since she¡¯d begun earning coin as a scullery maid this year. She tied them up tight with garters at the knee, then settled her skirt at her waist and pulled on a sleeved bodice stiffened with buckram, both pieces in the green of Baron Summerset¡¯s arms. Mama helped with that, and then Liv tucked in a white apron and settled a cap over her bun. Once she¡¯d tied on her shoes, she was off.


    As the older servants were still dressing in their rooms, Liv tromped down the stairs and into the kitchen. The room was massive, and the hearth at the end was big enough for Liv to stand in - which wasn¡¯t saying much. She guessed that it could fit a grown man, like Archibald, the first footman, or even Baron Henry in his jousting armor.


    A fire was alreadyid from the night before, and a stack of split logs neatly arranged to the left of the hearth. All Liv had to do was get it lit for the morning tea, imported all the way from Lendh ka Dakruim, and this was her favorite part of the morning chores, because it meant that she could use magic.


    For the first month that Liv had worked as a scullion, she¡¯d had to use flint and steel, striking them against each other until she got a spark. Sometimes, the kindling caught, but sometimes it didn¡¯t, and she couldn¡¯t give up, no matter how frustrated she got or howte it made her.


    "It¡¯s your job, and no one else¡¯s," Archibald had told her sternly the one time she¡¯d been silly enough to ask for help. Baron Henry ran the castle, but Archibald ran the servants.


    "But you know the spark charm," Liv had argued. "And so does Mama, and Gretta, and you could all have it done so much faster." There didn¡¯t seem to be a point to making her do something she found so difficult, when everyone else in the servant¡¯s quarters could have gotten the fire lit with a few words.


    "I do," First Footman Archibald had said, his eyes as cold as the snow on the peaks of the mountains that Mama said never melted, even in summer. "If you don¡¯t want to use flint and steel, you¡¯d better learn it, too. Now, back to work."


    Mean Archie, as Liv called him in her head, made it sound so easy, but it truly wasn¡¯t. You had to get the sounds just right, but they didn¡¯t make any sense - they weren¡¯t normal words at all. The spark charm sounded kind of like jelly-leg-aim, except not.


    "It¡¯s in the old tongue," Gretta had exined one evening after all their work was done, while the fire was beingid. "The tongue of the gods, from long ago when every word was magic, and just speaking a thing made it so." Gretta had been head cook before Mama, but now she said that she was too old for it, so she was only a kitchen maid and she also told a lot of stories. Some of them were wonderful, like the ones about Miriam when she was a little girl growing up in the house of Tamiris, and some were terrible, such as the battle against Ghveris, the Beast of Iuronnath, but Liv never stopped wanting to hear them.


    "Maybe I can¡¯t do it," Liv hadined with a scowl. "It isn¡¯t fair."


    "You can do it," Gretta had assured her, and groaned as she bent down by the fire to demonstrate all over again. The old woman never stoppedining about her knees and her back and her hands, especially before it rained during Flood Season. "Tamiris gave us all The Gift, and he didn¡¯t do something so grand only to leave one little girl out. Say what I say, and mind where it gets loud or soft."


    But Liv hadn¡¯t gotten the charm to work that night, nor the one after either. She¡¯d taken to murmuring the sounds under her breath all throughout the day, so that she couldn¡¯t forget it. When she finally got the charm right, she¡¯d been scrubbing a greasy pan that had immediately caught fire. She¡¯d nearly burned her eyebrows off, but ever since the magic hade every morning, without fail.


    "Ghelet leg?m," Liv whispered the morning of the frost fair, and a spark appeared at the touch of her finger, down among the dry kindling. She opened the flue so that the hearth would get enough air, and the dry wood caught as quick as a stooping hawk. Though the charm had never failed to work, not since the first time she¡¯d done it right, Liv couldn¡¯t help grinning all the same. She could do magic.


    The grinsted about as long as it took her to get back up the stairs to the servants¡¯ rooms, passing her mother and Gretta on their way down to the kitchen. Starting with Gretta¡¯s room, Liv took the chamber pots out from under the beds, one after the other, to the servants¡¯ privy, where she tried not to breath while she dumped them. Liv was partial to the younger footmen, Bill and Tom, who almost always slept through the night without using their pots. Gretta and her mother she forgave, but the worst was dealing with Archibald¡¯s chamber pot, which sometimes had blood in it.


    Once she had a stack of dirty but emptied pots, Liv had to scrub them out with a rag soaked in vinegar, which was just about the most foul task she could imagine. When she¡¯d first started her duties, she¡¯d had to choke down her own vomit every morning. Once the chamber pots were scrubbed, dried, and back under the beds, it was time to sweep the servants¡¯ quarters, halls, scullery, and pantries while her mother and Gretta cooked.


    Liv always tried to finish the sweeping as quickly as she could, because if she got it all done before the horologe rang the eighth bell, that meant she could help with breakfast. In the winter, the kitchen was the best ce to be: the roaring fire in the hearth warmed the entire room, the scent of cooking food and spices cleared her nose of the stench of the chamber pots, and there were always scraps to be eaten as treats.


    This morning, Liv found a great iron skillet of chopped potatoes resting on the grate in the hearth. Gretta tossed the potato chunks regrly to keep them from burning, and Liv¡¯s mouth got as wet as the ground in flood season at the scent of garlic, onions, and frying butter wafting up from the pan. There were two kettles of water hung on iron hooks that swung over the fire: one for tea, and the other for making oats. Mama had two skillets on her end, one frying bacon and the other fresh eggs. Together, the two women sang a cooking song, one Liv had heard every morning for as long as she could remember.


    Say, she brought my breakfast, she didn¡¯t know my name


    Say, she cooked my breakfast on that hot open me.


    I like fresh eggs, with hot ground peppers


    I like bread hot from the oven


    Say, she brought my breakfast


    Cesemus co fa, cesemus co fa.


    Liv lifted her voice to sing along, then grabbed a stack of pewter trenchers and set them around the table. She¡¯d just turned to get the forks and knives when her mother interrupted her.


    "Livy, dove," Maggie Brodbeck called, breaking off the cooking song. "I need you to take a te up for Master Grenfell. Sophie¡¯s sick in bed."


    "Aye," Liv said, feeling suddenly as if she might be sick herself. "He isn¡¯t eating in the great hall? In his rooms, then?" Who knew what Baron Henry¡¯s Court Mage might keep in his rooms. Crystals and sses for looking at the stars and the rings? Books of spells? Magic rings and wands?


    "No," Mama exined, shaking her head. "He¡¯s working in the Old Baron¡¯s Room of Curiosities. Here," she said, bringing over a silver tray. Unlike the pewter used for the servants¡¯ meals, every dish on the tray was finely made, and each one heaped with steaming food. "Mind you don¡¯t touch anything in there," Liv¡¯s mother warned her, and then turned back to her skillets. "You can eat when you get back down. Gretta and I will set the table."


    Holding the silver tray carefully, Liv made her way up the servants¡¯ stairs as quick as she could, making for the second floor of Castle Whitehill, where the Room of Curiosities was located. It was a disappointment not to see the court mage¡¯s private chambers, and all of their treasures within, but the sting was alleviated by the promise of a rare glimpse into the Old Baron¡¯s collection.


    Liv had been in the Room of Curiosities only twice before; it was not often used, since Baron Henry¡¯s father had died, and so when someone actually did need the chamber, it was a disruption to the routine of the castle. That was perfect, because the only time Liv was sent out of the servants¡¯ wing, up to where the Baron himself lived, was when something unexpected left no one else avable.


    Someone - probably Head Footman Archibald - had alreadye by to unlock the chamber door, so Liv had no trouble getting in. A fire burned in the hearth as well, whichbined with morning light from the open windows to chase away nearly all the shadows. As Liv made her way over to a desk next to the bookcase, many grotesque and bizarre objects seemed to leer at her, some of them even to follow her movements with their eyes.


    There was a massive, fanged skull said to be that of a wyrm, and so big that it couldn¡¯t be mounted, but had to be left on the floor; a two headed calf, which Gretta had told Liv was born ten years ago on a local farm; an entire wooden case along one wall stuffed with papers, scrolls and bound books; a statue of white stone that her eyes brushed over, depicting a nude woman who certainly did not seem to miss her clothing; and a second, lower shelf filled with wood that was hard as stone, strange sea-shells dug out of the quarries at Bald Peak, and rocks with the impression of scorpions and odd tentacled creatures in them.


    Most impressive of all, mounted on one wall, was the preserved and stuffed body of a bat of incredible size, eyes reced by ss orbs and mouth open wide in a fearsome lunge, as if it was about to fly off the wall and rip out her throat. The creature¡¯s leathery wings stretched out to cover near half the wall, and Liv guessed that if you measured a grown man against those wings, the man woulde up short. Knobby, dull gray stones stuck out of the skin in odd ces, most strangely on the bat¡¯s head, where a v-shaped ridge of stone thick as a grown man¡¯s thumb trailed back along the skull toward the ears.


    Liv set the breakfast tray down on the desk. She should leave; breakfast was waiting, and kitchen servants weren¡¯t supposed to stay in the public parts of the castle once their duties were done. The bat, however, fascinated her. Liv crept toward it, and raised a hand. Did those ridges on the head feel like normal stones - the kind you could find in the gardens?


    Something dark slinked out of the shadows and brushed against her skirt, and Liv cried out in fright, jumping a step back. She thought her heart would fall out of her chest until she recognized the arched back of a ck cat, one of the castle mousers, brushing up against her legs.


    "Charlie," she gasped. "You scared me." The cat purred, thrusting its head against her.


    "Close the windows before you go," a man¡¯s voice told her from the doorway. It was so quiet that Liv almost couldn¡¯t catch the words, and something about the tone shook, trembling nearly as badly as Liv¡¯s own hands were doing now.


    "Master Mage," Liv said, lowering her eyes and making a curtsy.


    Kazamir Grenfell, guild mage in service to Baron Henry, ignored her entirely. He walked across the room, pulled a volume off the bookshelf, and brought it over to the desk, where he sat down with it and took a sip of his tea. He looked to be a man of his middle years, edging on into old age but not quite arrived yet, and both his hair and his beard were more gray than ck. He wore a robe of heavy dark wool, with sigils embroidered all over in shining thread, and Liv was certain they were all magic. She rushed over to the windows; someone must have opened them to air the room out. When she closed the pane of expensive ss, Liv had another jump: a bat that had been hanging from the ceiling, just inside the room, fluttered off into the morning sky.


    Master Mage Grenfell looked up from his book and his tea, watching Liv catch her breath. "You are the cook¡¯s bastard girl, are you not?" he asked.


    "Yes, sir," Liv said. She hated that word. Bastard.


    "I could tell from the ears," the Guildmage said. "Come over here a moment."


    Liv crept closer, keeping her eyes down. Servants didn¡¯t make eye contact with their betters. She stopped just out of the mage¡¯s reach, but he stood and reached out, taking her left ear between his thumb and his fingers. "Interesting," he muttered. "How old are you, now?"


    "Twelve years old," Liv told him.


    "I would have guessed six," Grenfell said. "You look half-starved. Are those white eyebrows? I can see why the Baron keeps you downstairs. Impossible to hide the Elden blood. Run along now, girl. I have work to do."


    Liv fled the room, not feeling safe again until she¡¯d ducked through the door into the servants¡¯ stair and shut it behind her. There, she leaned back against the wood and closed her eyes until her heart had slowed and her hands stopped trembling. He¡¯d touched her ears. He hadn¡¯t even asked, first.


    If she hadn¡¯t had to wear her hair in a bun and under a cap, Liv could have hidden them; but as it was, they stuck out from the cap no matter what she did. Unlike the round ears of everyone else in the castle, everyone in the entire town of Whitehill Upon Aspen, they were pointed at the top. They were a constant reminder, to everyone who saw her, that her father was not human.


    Eventually, Liv crept back down the stairs. She¡¯d almost reached the servants¡¯ quarters when the door below her opened, and Tom and Bill, the footmen, came through, carrying trays from the great hall. Liv pressed herself to the wall and slid back up the stairs, out of their sight. Thest thing she wanted was anyone to ask her questions right now.


    "I feel bad for her, is all," Tom was saying. The conversation must have started outside the stairs. "Just think about it. She¡¯s gonna be an old woman by the time her daughter¡¯s grown. It¡¯s not natural."


    "It¡¯s her own fault," Bill answered back, as the two descended the stairs, their voices echoing. "All she had to do was not open her legs to some freak from over the mountains."


    It¡¯s me, Liv realized. They¡¯re talking about me.

 2. The Frost Fair

    Liv lingered in the stairwell until the two footmen¡¯s voices were cut off by a closing door. Down in the kitchens, her mother and Gretta and all the other servants would be gathering around the table for breakfast. There was an empty chair waiting for her, but right now Liv felt sick, and the scent of fried bacon wafting up from below nearly made her run back to the privy.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d overheard someone saying something so mean about her mother - or about her. That word, bastard, she¡¯d been hearing it for as long as she could remember. Often, Liv wondered if her mother would have been happier if she had never been born. Maybe she would have gotten married, and had children that everyone loved, that weren¡¯t a constant problem and embarrassment. Liv realized her eyes were wet, and used her apron to wipe them before dropping her hands back to her side and clenching her fists.


    She was sunk so deep into her own head that Liv didn¡¯t notice the door at the bottom of the stairs open until Mama poked her head through and called up some timeter. "Livy, dove,e and get your food."


    Liv swallowed, realized that her hands hurt, and looked down to find that she¡¯d squeezed her fists so tight that her nails were nearly cutting into her palms. "Coming, Mama," she said, and ran down the stairs.


    "Don¡¯t run," her mother chided her. "Remember when you fell and broke your finger?"


    "I won¡¯t fall," Liv promised, and scurried across the kitchen to the empty ce left for her at the table.


    "Eat up, dear," Gretta urged her, piling Liv¡¯s te with eggs, potatoes and bacon. "You¡¯re too thin. I can count your ribs."


    "Big day, Liv," Bill called across the table, his mouth half full. "Going to skate at the fair?"


    If she hadn¡¯t heard him in the stairwell, she would have thought the footman was being friendly, but now Liv knew that he was a two-faced liar, and cruel. "No," she said, biting back words that would only get her in trouble.


    "Leave off, William," Archibald warned. "You know Master Cushing won¡¯t allow the girl to do anything that risks a fall."


    "We¡¯re going to go shopping, though," Liv¡¯s mother broke in. "There¡¯s sure to be plenty of mulled cider and good things to eat. And I thought we might take a sleigh ride, my dove."


    Liv perked up at that; she loved going up into the mountains. She allowed the adults to talk past her while she chewed her food. Aldo Cushing, the baron¡¯s master chirurgeon, had warned her that if she wanted to grow more, she had to eat everything she could, and that it would help her bones, too. She hoped that if she grew enough, by next winter he might tell her mother that she was allowed to ice skate or ski.


    After breakfast was finished, all of the servants followed First Footman Archibald out of the kitchen and up the great hall, where everyone who lived in Castle Whitehill met for morning prayers. Liv stayed next to her mother¡¯s side when the servants lined up, and did her best to be still so as not to attract Baron Henry¡¯s notice. He¡¯d never liked her, and as his gaze skimmed down the line, she again wished that she could hide her ears.


    "This morning," Baron Henry began, his voice filling the hall easily, "We give thanks to Arvatis, for bringing the dawn. May he keep us all healthy, and free of disease." Now that the Baron was talking, Liv figured he wouldn¡¯t be paying attention to her, so she snuck her eyes up to get a nce at his small court.


    Henry himself looked every inch the lord of Whitehill. He was still young, with sandy hair and a well-trimmed beard - not at all like Liv¡¯s memories of his ailing father. His doublet was a fine brocade, and he stood straight and proud as he spoke.


    At the baron¡¯s side was his new wife, Lady Julianne. Liv thought that Julianne was just about the most beautiful woman that she had ever seen, with pale skin that looked as if she¡¯d never been touched by the sun. Whenever Liv saw the baron¡¯s wife, she wore dresses in colors that no servant would ever be permitted, even if they had the coin to afford it. In the months since the noblewoman hade to Castle Whitehill from the capital, her belly had swollen until it had the look of a melon fit to burst, and Liv knew from talk in the kitchen that a child was expected before the winter was out.


    With the lord anddy of the castle stood Court Mage Grenfell, roused from his work in the Room of Curiosities, and Master Chirurgeon Aldo Cushing. Liv was more familiar with the chirurgeon than anyone else who ate at the high table, on ount of having spent so much time being examined by him. She hated those visits, when the old man would measure and weigh her, and then make notes while he shook his head. Every time, the verdict was the same: she was not growing like she should.


    "...and we thank also Lord Tamiris," Baron Henry continued. Liv realized that she had missed the prayer to Sitia, and resolved to make her own plea to the goddess soon. If she needed anyone¡¯s help, it was the Lady of Changes. "We give thanks for our freedom, and for the Gift; and we will be forever grateful."


    Everyone in the hall bowed their heads, for a long moment, and then straightened when the baron spoke again. "It is a market day, as you all know," Henry said, returning his gaze to the row of castle servants. "And more than that, it is a Frost Fair, the first we have had in several years. Therefore, you are all relieved from your normal duties. The Baroness and I will find our meals at the fair today. We do expect that you will all have returned for the ninth hour of the evening, and that you will be prepared to resume your normal duties tomorrow morning. With that, you are dismissed." The baron smiled. "Enjoy the fair."


    It was all Liv could do not to dash out of the hall - an entire day at the Fair! As soon as they¡¯d left the hall, she let herself grin and bounce up and down, then grabbed her mother¡¯s hands. "Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!" Liv pleaded.


    "Not until you have your winter cloak on," Mama said, though she smiled. "And a second skirt, to keep you warm. I expect you¡¯ll want to leave your apron here, and take along your coin purse, as well. Now back to our room, dove." Liv skipped ahead, rushed down the servants¡¯ stairs, and was ready to go before her mother had even reached the room. She took a moment to count her coins while her mother fastened a heavy cloak around her own shoulders.


    Liv poured her purse out on the floor, set the single silver sun aside, and counted the copper pennies into stacks of ten. "How much do you have?" her mother asked.


    "One crown, seventy pennies," Liv answered, carefully scooping it all back into her purse, which she hung at her waist, before tucking it into the pocket of her overskirt. "I wish I hadn¡¯t bought so many pairs of wool hose."


    "You¡¯ll be grateful for them before the day is done," Mama said. "Come along, now."


    The morning was perfect. Overhead, a cloudless blue sky spread endless and deep, divided above by the great shining ring that encircled the world. The footmen had cleared a path through the snow to the castle gates, and from there they took the streets down The Hill toward the market before cutting east to the bank of the Aspen River.


    The cobbled roads of The Hill, Whitehill¡¯s wealthy district, were coated in frozen mud and new fallen powder, and far less crowded than Liv was used to. There was an asional carriage, rolling and shaking east behind a team of horses and spraying snow up around the wheels, all headed for the river. On most market days, the shops here would be open: the local bookseller, for instance, or the cobbler, who Liv had visited during harvest to re-sole her shoes. The Temple of the Trinity was in The Hill, just a bit lower than the castle, as well as The Old Oak, the town¡¯s oldest inn, which almost always hosted a crowd of merchants, drovers and travelers.


    Today, however, everyone in Whitehill was making their way down to the frozen river, and as Liv and her mother neared the shore, the crowd grew thicker. She grabbed her mother by the hand and tugged her forward impatiently until they had reached the ice.


    The broad Aspen River hadpletely frozen over, save for one ce just at the foot of Whitehill, with the castle looming above. There, steaming water from the sulfurous hot springs ran down the rock, and prevented ice from forming, no matter how cold the winter became. The town guards had strung a rope all around the great hole in the ice, and hung it with colored gs, so that no one could miss where the ice grew thin and dangerous.


    Everywhere else, the ice was full of people, tents, and animals. A small crowd surrounded a makeshift ring of rope strung on wooden posts, cheering Big Whit Cotter on as he beat a challenger into submission with his bare hands. Upriver, children were skating across the ice on des of carved wood or horn. Near the opposite bank, three sleighs hitched to teams of draft horses waited for customers, and while Liv watched, one took off. The sleigh, full ofughing people bundled in warm cloaks, slid easily across the snow on the riverbank, and set off for the mountains, which cradled all of the Aspen Valley in every direction.


    Mama bought them each a wooden mug of mulled cider, steaming hot and spiced, which they cradled as they shopped from tent to tent. Even those who might note out for a normal market day had put their wares on disy for the Frost Fair: there was dried meat, smoked and spiced, from venison to beef or pork, as well as dried and hung herbs. Liv skipped past craftsmen selling pottery, bolts of cloth, skates and skis, and jewelry of all sorts; ignoring it all, she headed for the sound of music. She dropped a copper penny into a wooden bowl for the yers, dropped her mother¡¯s hand, and ran into a crowd of children dancing to the sound of flutes and drums. Someone¡¯s dog ran through the crowd, leaping up to lick her in the face, and Liv ruffled the fur around its ears with a giggle.


    For their midday meal, Liv and her mother found a tent where wooden benches had been dragged into rows, and brisket was being being served hot from the smoker. They got a trencher full of tender slices, and drenched it in sauce.


    "You won¡¯t find this in the londs," Liv¡¯s mother told her, in between bites. "Only up here in the mountains. The spicese all the way from Lendh ka Dakruim." Liv had never left Whitehill, and she didn¡¯t think her mother had either, but the day was too wonderful to say that out loud.


    Instead, she asked, "Can we go ride in a sleigh, now?"


    "Of course," her mother answered, and they brought their trenchers and mugs back to be washed. There were long lines stretching out from where the sleighs waited, and Liv bounced up and down impatiently. "Watch yourself," Mama warned her. "Mind you don¡¯t bump into anyone."


    "I will," Liv told her, rolling her eyes. As they waited, she looked upriver, to where a dozen or more children were skating on the ice. Her feet itched to join them, and if not for her stupid bones she would have already spent her wages on a pair of skates.


    "Next year," her mother said, gently. "When the master chirurgeon says it¡¯s alright."


    Liv was just about to reply when someone bumped into her from behind. She cried out, slipped, and would have fallen if her mother hadn¡¯t reached out an arm to catch her.


    "My apologies," a woman said, half turning to look back at them. She looked like a hunter, wearing a heavy fur cloak instead of wool, and the winter wind tossed a mane of rich, dark hair about.


    "No harm done," Liv¡¯s mother said, keeping a hold of her. "It¡¯s a crowded day. You¡¯re from out of town, then? Come for the fair?"


    There was a crinkling about the strangers eyes, and something in the way she moved her head that reminded Liv of an owl. "How could you tell?" she asked. "I brought a few furs in to sell, and now I¡¯m looking for a bit to eat with my coins."


    "Your ent," Mama exined. "I¡¯ve never heard anything quite like it. It almost reminds me of the Eld of the North, but it¡¯s different."


    "I¡¯m surprised to find anyone here who has met one of the Eld," the huntressmented.


    "They came through Whitehill thirteen years ago," Liv¡¯s mother said. "On their way to the capital. The young lord of the House of Syv? and his retinue."


    Liv¡¯s eyes and attention had been wandering back to the skaters, where one of the girls looked to be rather unsteady on her feet, but now she turned back to the conversation between adults. Thirteen years ago. Was that when her father hade? Was that when her mother had met him? She opened her mouth to ask, but couldn¡¯t find a space to do so without interrupting, and resolved to wait until the stranger had walked away.


    "That must have been something to see," the dark haired woman said, and Liv did not miss the way her eyes flicked down to focus on her for a moment. "Would you mind telling a stranger the best ce to get a meal?"


    "Four stalls down, then take a left," Mama said, pointing. "That¡¯s where we ate. They have a smoker going that you can smell once you get near, and if you aren¡¯t from the mountains you have to try the sauce."


    "Thank you." The woman hesitated a moment, then extended her hand. "Wren Wind-Dancer."


    "Margaret Brodbeck," Liv¡¯s mother said, taking the hand. "With a name like that, I would have known even without the ent. This is my daughter, Liv. Liv, dove, say hello to Wren."


    But Liv was no longer listening. The girl she¡¯d been watching, dark haired and all bundled up inyers, was trying to skate backwards. Her arms were pinwheeling a bit, but somehow she was keeping her bnce as she looped away from the other children, and toward the west bank of the river, into the shadow of Castle Whitehill.


    "She doesn¡¯t see the gs," Liv said.


    "What was that, dear?" Mama asked, frowning.


    "She doesn¡¯t see the gs!" Liv set off at a run. She was too far away to get to the girl in time, but someone else had to be watching her, surely someone else would see and stop it. As Gretta said, however, wishing didn¡¯t make it so, and none of the other skating children had noticed the little girl headed for where the ice was dangerously thin.


    "Hey! Hey you!" Liv yelled as she ran across the ice, and waved her hands above her head. "Stop! Turn back!"


    The dark-haired girl finally heard, and looked at her. For just a moment, their eyes met, and Liv thought that she¡¯d been in time. Then, the girl skated through the rope, tumbled, and fell as the ice broke away beneath her. She gave a single scream, and then her voice cut off as she went down into the water.


    Liv was still too far away, but she kept running, stretching out her hand as if she could somehow reach the girl and lift her up before she was lost. She was breathing hard while she ran, and her breath fogged in front of her face as a cutting wind lifted her cloak. She could only imagine how cold the dark-haired girl was under the water, as the chill sank into her fingers, her toes, her bones¡­


    Around Liv, the world shook, for just a moment. She felt that cold, sinking deep into her and then spilling out from within. A vision of mountain peaks filled her mind, where the snow never melted and the ground was hard, where it was always winter. Gretta had told her stories of hunters lost up in the high passes, frozen and not found until flood season. Would they find the little girl and her skates when the river melted?


    Something hummed in her ears, and her entire world vibrated in time, like a drum. Liv felt it in her chest, deep as a crack of thunder, and it drove the breath from her lungs. She was so cold that she couldn¡¯t move anymore, like the girl under the ice, and she tumbled forward, skidding across the frozen river with her hand still outstretched.


    Her lips moved, without thought, and the word that emerged was one that Liv had never once heard in her life.


    "Cel¨¥v¨¡tis!" There was no choice: it welled up from within her and burst out, as if she¡¯d eaten bad meat and her stomach refused to keep it in any longer. Everything but cold fled from the world, and frost cracked over Liv¡¯s eyes.


    In front of her, dimly, she saw her fingers first turn red, blister, and then cken. She was nothing but ice. She saw nothing but ice. She thought nothing but ice.


    Around her, the frozen river surged. Snow was flung in every direction in a spray of powder as the ice cracked and groaned, jutting up in sharp crystals that grew waist high. Liv¡¯s hand shook, and an enormous hand of solid ice rose up from where the runoff from the sulfur spring had melted the river.


    sped in the fingers of the hand was the soaked form of a little girl, her dark hair stered about her pale face. Liv had just enough vision left to watch the hand deposit the girl in front of her before she passed out.

 3. Aluthet鈥橲taia

    "We have to get her to the castle-"


    "The ice is in the way. Back off and let me work."


    Liv was so cold that she couldn¡¯t even shiver. Her eyes, half-lidded, were frozen in ce, showing her only the blue of the mountain sky refracted into dozens of sparkling shards, and the brightness of the ring overhead. Ice crusted her eyebrows, heavy against her face, and the slightest shift of her head brushed frosted tendrils of hair against her skin.


    A heavy crack sounded, and her arm shook. Something around her loosened. Murmurs and whispers surrounded her, more voices than she could count. Her left hand was encased in heat, so painful that she screamed.


    "I¡¯ve got you, dove," Mama said, close to her ear as another crack sounded, and then a third. Was something hitting her?


    "Out of the way," Aldo Cushing barked. Good, Liv thought. The Master Chirurgeon will take care of me. He wasn¡¯t nice, and she didn¡¯t like him, but she did trust him. There was a murmur of conversation that Liv couldn¡¯t quite track, men¡¯s voices, and then the chirurgeon spoke clearly again: "Lukewarm water, mind you, and heat it slowly. She was only in the water a few moments; she will recover."


    The cracks and impacts had never stopped, and now Liv felt her body eased down onto the ice. But she had fallen onto the frozen river before, hadn¡¯t she? What had been holding her up just now?


    "Master Cushing is here," Mama said. Liv realized her mother was grasping her hand. She wished she could talk; she didn¡¯t want her mother to worry. "He¡¯ll take care of you, Livy."


    Two fingers touched her neck, hot as coals from the hearth.


    "She lives," Cushing said. Of course I do, Liv thought. I just passed out, I didn¡¯t die. "Bring her along," the chirurgeon ordered someone, and Liv felt herself scooped up into strong arms. "I need a carriage! Now!"


    Being carried hurt. Every inch of her skin cracked and stabbed with the movement, and Liv couldn¡¯t help but cry out from the pain. Ice fell off her body in chunks, but her skirts and bodice were frozen solid. She couldn¡¯t focus on the voices around her until she was put down again, onto a cushioned bench. People were moving around her, and then the carriage lurched into motion, rattling over the cobblestone streets.


    "We need to get these clothes off," Master Cushing muttered. "Before they kill her. Use your dagger. I¡¯ll start on this side." There was the sound of tearing cloth, and then more pain. Liv felt as if she was being skinned alive with each piece of fabric yanked from her, and her eyes hurt from being unable to blink. Finally, she was pulled into someone¡¯sp, and then wrapped in fur.


    "She¡¯s so cold," Mama gasped.


    "That is why she needs the heat of your body," Cushing exined. "Keep her hands against your skin. You there-"


    "Wren."


    "Wren, take her feet in your hands. Try to warm her toes. It may be we can still save them." None of it made sense, but then the world darkened, and Liv felt heat over her eyes. A momentter, her face was wet, as if she¡¯d been weeping, and she could blink again. The ice on her brows was gone.


    "What happened?" Liv mumbled. Her lips cracked when she moved them, and she tasted cold water in her mouth.


    "Hush, darling," Mama said, holding her tight. Everything still hurt, and whatever had prevented Liv from shivering had gone away, because she began to shake uncontrobly, her teeth chattering, and nearly bit her tongue. She was very tired, and now that she could close her eyes, she did.


    A hand pped her cheek, and Liv cried out, her eyes snapping back open. Master Chirurgeon Cushing¡¯s lined face was close in front of her, and his breath stank of garlic. "You mustn¡¯t fall asleep, Liv," he chided her. "Keep your eyes open. We are nearly back at the castle."


    "Everything hurts," she whined.


    "That means you¡¯re still alive," a woman¡¯s voice came from beneath her, near the floor of the carriage. Liv found enough strength to look down, and saw the hunter, Wren, rubbing her bare feet with her hands. The carriage rolled to a halt, and then the door was open, letting in the winter wind.


    "Guards!" Cushing shouted. "I need hands! Help me carry this girl in. And fetch Master Grenfell."


    Men dressed in the Baron¡¯s green and white lifted Liv out of her mother¡¯sp, still wrapped in the fur cloak. "Mama!" she cried.


    "Start water for a bath," the chirurgeon said, catching her mother by the shoulder. "Find anyone you can to help you, and bring it up to my chambers. I will treat her there."


    "What about the hot springs?" her mother¡¯s voice protested.


    "She needs to be warmed slowly," Cushing replied.


    "Will she live?" Liv heard her mother ask, as the men carried her into the castle, and then they were heading up the stairs to the second floor, and she couldn¡¯t hear what was said next. Everything was so confused, and hurt so much, and she just wanted to go to sleep, but Master Cushing had told her not to close her eyes.


    The men carrying her shoved open a door, andid Liv down on a table. She recognized Master Cushing¡¯s chambers, and a momentter he was there, standing over her. "I didn¡¯t close my eyes," she told him.


    "Good girl," the old chirurgeon said. "You men, light the fire and stoke it high," he ordered. "Then one of you pull the tub over, and the other fetch water."


    "Yes, m¡¯lord," one of the guards said.


    "Is that little girl safe?" Liv asked, when Cushing turned back to her. He was poking and prodding at her skin, especially her nose and around her ears.


    "Emma Forester will be fine," Cushing said, "thanks to you. She was hardly in that cold water for a moment. Her father¡¯s already taken her home to get her warmed up, and I will be certain to visit them tonight to check in."


    "But I didn¡¯t do anything," Liv protested. "I couldn¡¯t get there. I wasn¡¯t fast enough."


    "I want to check your bones, now," the chirurgeon told her. "While these men draw a bath and your mother boils water. I am going to feel along your arms and legs, dear. It will only take a moment."


    "I fell!" Liv realized, trying to sit up in panic. "I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to. Tell my mother I didn¡¯t mean to, I wasn¡¯t being foolish-"


    "Hush, child. Be still." The chirurgeon¡¯s warm hands moved beneath the cloak she was wrapped in, pressing against her arms, searching for breaks. By the time the guards had carried over arge wooden tub, lined in cloth, Master Cushing had checked all of her limbs to his satisfaction. Liv had only cried out once, when he gripped her left ankle and a spike of pain shot through her. The door swung open again, and Mama rushed in with the cloth-wrapped handle of an iron kettle gripped in each hand.


    "Miss Brodbeck, good," the chirurgeon said, stepping away from his table. "I want you to put your daughter in the bath, and mind her ankle - it¡¯s broken. No hot water, yet. When she feels as if the water in the tub is cool, instead of hot - what she feels, mind, not you - add a single one of those kettles. A few momentster you can add the other." The guards rushed back into the room with four more buckets for the bath. "Thank you, men," Cushing said. "That should be enough from you. One of you wait by the door for Master Mage Grenfell, and tell him I will return presently. Miss Brodbeck, I am going to step out and let you get to work. If I go down to your rooms, I expect I shall find clean clothes for the girl?" Though the instructions seemed to fly from the old man as fast as a team of horses, his stern tone actually made Liv feel better.


    Liv¡¯s mother nodded and set the two kettles down by the bath. "Take the good wool hose," she said.


    "I shall." Cushing and the guards left the room, and closed the door behind them.


    "Come along then, dove," Mama told her, reaching under Liv and the fur cloak. With a grunt, Liv found herself scooped up off the table and carried over to the tub. She knew the water hadn¡¯t been heated - the kettles were still resting beside the tub, unused. Once she was lowered in, however, she gasped out in pain. It felt like she was being burned alive.


    "Too hot, Mama," she cried.


    Margaret Brodbeck dipped her fingers into the water, and frowned. "It¡¯s cool water, my love," she said. "Your lips are practically white."


    Liv couldn¡¯t have said how long it took before the water was cool enough not to hurt her; then, when her mother stirred in the first kettle of hot water, she suffered through the pain all over again. Sometime just before the second kettle went in, she realized that she was no longer shivering, atst. At a knock from the door, Mama stood up and left her for a moment.


    "-if we had the new heated baths from the Pipers Guild this would be much easier," Liv heard Cushingin through the open door.


    "I told the Baron that, but-" the voice was Master Grenfell¡¯s, quiet and tremulous, and cut off when Liv¡¯s mother closed the door. She returned carrying a bundle of fresh clothes, and set them down on the table.


    Finally, long after the horologe standing against the wall struck the second hour of the afternoon, Liv sat on the table again, dressed and warm, with her mother next to her and both Master Cushing and Master Grenfell examining her.


    "I can¡¯t believe it," Cushing muttered, examining her hands. "These fingers were ck. I saw them. Now it is as if nothing happened at all. She seems fully recovered, aside from the ankle."


    "That¡¯s a good thing, isn¡¯t it?" Liv¡¯s mother asked, but Cushing¡¯s face only looked more concerned.


    "I can set the ankle easily enough," he said. "I will wrap it in strips of stered linen. But I am more concerned about mana sickness. Kazamir?"


    Master Grenfell stepped forward, and raised a hand. Eyes half-lidded, he moved it over her, never touching Liv¡¯s body, but staying a finger¡¯s width away at all times. "You were right to call me," he said, finally. The mage walked over to his bag, which he¡¯d set down next to the table, crouched, and began rooting through it.


    "My daughter¡¯s no mage, Masters," Mama protested.


    "Your daughter, Miss Brodbeck, had to be chipped out of ice with the hilt of a dagger," Master Cushing pointed out. He nced over to Grenfell. "That¡¯s no word I¡¯ve ever heard of."


    Grenfell grunted, and Liv couldn¡¯t tell whether it was a yes or a no. "The Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers uses sigils to preserve meat for shipping," the mage said. "In cold-chests." He rose and returned to the table, carrying a gray hunk of stone that reminded Liv of something. It took her a moment to remember what, and then she spoke before she could stop herself.


    "Did you take that out of the bat?" she asked. She noticed that Master Cushing had walked over to his desk, where he was arranging a set of implements she recognized from thest time she¡¯d broken a bone: a bowl, a sack of dry ster, clean strips of linen.


    "The bat?" Grenfell blinked.


    "The big one, in the Room of Curiosities," Liv exined. "It had gray stones like that, didn¡¯t it? Coming out of the skin?"


    "So it did," Grenfell said, and when she saw him smile, she grinned in return. Liv wasn¡¯t cold any longer, after the bath and getting into dry clothes, but her hair was still wet. Except for her ankle, which throbbed painfully, she was feeling much better. "That bat came from the rift at Bald Peak Quarry," he exined. "As does this stone. Do you know what it is, girl?"


    Liv shook her head.


    "It is called Aluthet¡¯Staia, in the old tongue," Master Grenfell exined. "And it is empty, drained of its power - as were the stones in the preserved corpse you saw. A stone that is full, looks like this." He extended his hand, showing Liv a silver ring on his finger, set with a polished stone that looked nothing like the others.


    There was a gray color, certainly, but there seemed to be something beneath it, as if the stone itself was merely a scrap of linen held up in front of a fire, so that the light shone through. Beneath the surface, veins of bright blue and gold softly glowed. Liv gasped at how pretty it was.


    "It¡¯s nothing like those ugly rocks," she said.


    "Watch what happens to this one, then," Grenfell said. He grasped the dead rock - Liv couldn¡¯t quite recall the exact name he¡¯d said, which was rather long. "Miss Brodbeck, I am going to invoke a word of power," he exined. "Once I do that, you are likely going to see some lighting out of your daughter. I would like you to hold her so that she doesn¡¯t move. This should not take long, and it shouldn¡¯t hurt."


    Mama nodded, came up behind Liv, and wrapped her arms around her. Master Cushing, on the other hand, took several steps back away from them.


    Master Mage Grenfell drew in a deep breath, and Liv opened her eyes as wide as she could so that she wouldn¡¯t miss a thing. Magic! Not low magic, the kind anyone could use, but high magic!


    "Aluthos¡¯o¡¯Ea," Grenfell sang. It wasn¡¯t like normal talking at all: it came up low, from his stomach, like Mama had taught her to sing, in a rich voice she would never have expected from the man who always spoke so quietly. The sounds were long, drawn out and slow, and seemed to settle around the room and sink into everything: the table, the wall and floors, and Liv herself. Once again, like on the ice, she found her body pulsing in time with something she could not put a name to.


    Her skin tingled, and Liv looked down. Like the stone set in Master Grenfell¡¯s ring, her own skin lit up. It was faint at first, and then the colors became clear: blue as bright as the winter sky, gold like the sun. Wisps of it leaked out of her arms, her hands, and drifted over to the dull gray rock that the mage held in front of her. Something shed just beneath Liv¡¯s vision, and she gasped. A blob of golden-veined blue drifted out from her cheek, across the intervening space, and into the rock.


    More and more light streamed across the gap between Liv and the stone, and with every breath, that dull gray rock grew brighter. By the time the process was over, and no more light shone from Liv¡¯s body, the stone looked just like the one in Master Grenfell¡¯s ring - if not brighter.


    "That is all of it," the mage said, in the tone of voice Mama had at the end of a hard day¡¯s work, when she just wanted to climb into bed and sleep. Liv, in the meantime, ached as if she¡¯d run from one end of the castle to the other twice.


    "Did you get it out in time?" Cushing asked.


    "In time for what?" Mama broke in.


    "Hard to say," Grenfell responded. "You will have to check her regrly for at least a season, Aldo. Miss Brodbeck, why don¡¯t I exin to you out in the hall. Master Cushing needs to set that ankle."


    "Did you see that?" Liv asked, unable to keep from grinning. An aching ankle was nothingpared to getting the chance to watch a true mage use a spell. And she¡¯d been right at the center of it! Her mother and the mage closed the door behind them, leaving Liv alone in the room with Master Cushing.


    "I did," the chirurgeon said, with a smile, bringing his bowl and strips of linen over to the table. "Quite astonishing to watch Master Grenfell work, is it not? I trust you remember this fromst time, Liv?" Carefully, he began to pull her wool hose off the injured leg.


    She nodded. "You¡¯re going to wrap it up, and it¡¯s going to get hard."


    "That¡¯s right," Cushing said. "And we are going to give you a crutch to help you walk, because it is very important that you not put your weight on this ankle until the bone is healed. And you will need toe see me regrly to be checked." The chirurgeon frowned. "Or perhaps I wille to you. It will save you a trip up and down the stairs, and they will be difficult to manage in the cast."


    It hurt when he took her ankle in hand, and the linen was gooey and warm when the chirurgeon wound it tight about her bare skin. Liv didn¡¯t like the feeling at all, so she closed her eyes and tried to remember how beautiful the magic had looked when it came out of her body. By the time he was finished, Liv¡¯s mother had returned, without Master Grenfell.


    "She will need to sit here until the ster is hardened," the old chirurgeon exined. "I¡¯ll go fetch you a crutch, Liv."


    Once Master Cushing had left the room, Liv turned to her mother. "What did Master Grenfell want to talk about, Mama?" she asked, as much because she was bored waiting as for any other reason.


    Margaret Brodbeck frowned. "Nothing for you to worry about, dove," she said. "Nothing for you to worry about. I¡¯ll deal with it, and the chirurgeon will take good care of you."


    Liv nodded, but her stomach roiled. She knew her mother better than anyone else in the castle, in the entire town of Whitehill. And she was certain those words were a lie.

 4. Magic is Like Fire

    One of the two guards who had carried her up to Master Cushing¡¯s chambers got Liv back down the servants¡¯ stairs to the small room she shared with her mother, while the other man held doors. They introduced themselves as Ansel and Jacob; she¡¯d always been a bit afraid of the Baron¡¯s men, but they seemed nice enough. Once she was tucked into bed and wrapped in nkets, with her ankle up on a pillow, and Rosie under her arm, they returned to their duties. Gretta bustled in the door with a steaming bowl in her hands.


    "I thought everyone went to the Frost Fair," Liv asked her.


    "If I was ten years younger," Gretta said. "Last thing I need is to fall on the ice and end up with a broken ankle." She winked, and Liv pouted. "As soon as I heard your mothere crashing down the stairs like a bull in flood season, and she told me what happened, I knew you could do with a bowl of hot stew."


    "Eat up, dear," Mama urged her. "I¡¯ll fetch chairs from the kitchen."


    The bowl was filled with drover¡¯s stew, so hot that Liv needed to blow on it to avoid burning her tongue. Chunks of beef, bacon, sausage, potato, corn and beans threatened to spill out onto herp, and the broth was vored with garlic, onion, and peppers from the south. Though she¡¯d stuffed herself with brisket only hours before, Liv crammed spoonful after spoonful into her mouth until the bowl was empty. Between the nkets and the stew, she finally felt warm and cozy, and neither Mama nor Gretta left her the entire time she ate.


    "Kale Forester¡¯s daughter?" Gretta asked, as Liv set her spoon down in the empty bowl. She realized they must have been speaking for sometime, but she hadn¡¯t heard a word.


    "That¡¯s right," Mama said, taking the bowl away from her and setting it down on the floor. "Livy was the only one who saw her skating toward the thin ice. You scared me so much, dove," she said, reaching out to put a hand on Liv¡¯s forehead. "Your hair is a rat¡¯s nest. Let meb it out for you."


    "I didn¡¯t actually get to her, though," Liv said with a frown. Her mother fetched the aspen-woodb and began from the bottom, working the knots out of her damp hair. When it was wet, it looked more gray than white.


    "Not with your body, no," Master Grenfell¡¯s voice broke in from the doorway. "May Ie in? I¡¯ve visited little Emma, and I can tell you for certain, Liv, that you did save her life. Her father has her warmed up now, and I daresay she came out of the entire thing better off than you did."


    "Please,e in, Master Mage," Mama said, leaving off with theb and rising into a curtsy. Gretta followed, though not as quickly. The ck mouser, Charlie, wound himself past their legs and hopped up onto the bed next to Liv.


    "I¡¯ll clear the bowl," the old woman said. "And you can take my chair, Master Grenfell. Would you like a bit of something to eat? I have more stew, and you¡¯ve missed your evening meal at the fair."


    "That would be quite nice, actually," the mage said, taking the chair. "You may be seated, Miss Brodbeck. You will want to be present for this conversation, I believe." Once Liv¡¯s mother had taken a seat and gone back to work with theb, Grenfell continued.


    "Can you tell me what high magic is, Liv?" he asked, sitting back in the chair and fixing her with his eyes. She had the feeling that she was being tested or judged, and it made her nervous.


    "What mages do," Liv answered. "And nobles." Charlie curled up in herp and began to purr.


    "That is true," Grenfell said. "But why? What makes it different from low magic - the kitchen songs you all sing down here, the spark charm to light the hearth? Your mother must know quite a few."


    "Aye," Mama admitted. "The maiden¡¯s charm, the charm of the whetstone¡­"


    Grenfell nodded. "Good. How do those work, Liv?"


    "Tamiris¡¯ Gift," she said. "Everyone knows that. Like in the stories - after the old gods went away, he gave us magic."


    "Charms are not precisely ours," the court mage said. "Think of them like a lock in a door. The lock is there, whether you have the key or not. It has been, since the day the door was hung."


    Liv frowned. "So I can¡¯t do magic, afterall?" she asked.


    "Precisely the opposite," Grenfell said. "You can. What you did on the ice today was magic - not a charm, but high magic. You used a word of power, Liv, and that is a very special thing indeed. A special thing, and a dangerous thing."


    The woodenb yanked at a particrly vicious knot, and Liv yelped. "Don¡¯t scare her, please," Mama said. "She needs to rest."


    "She does," Grenfell agreed. "But she also needs to be safe. And that is why I am talking to her tonight. Liv, think carefully for me. Do you remember the word that you spoke today? Do not say it out loud, but just see if you can recall what happened and answer my question."


    Cel¨¥v¨¡tis. The word came to her mind as easily as her own name, as the scent of the spices in the kitchen. The very thought made Liv shiver, and once again the image of snow-covered peaks filled her mind. "I remember," she told the mage. She had thought it would be the correct answer, but he frowned.


    "It might be better if you had forgotten," Grenfell muttered. "First, Liv Brodbeck, I want you to make me a promise: you will not say that word again."


    "Ever?" Liv asked.


    "No," the mage said with a heavy sigh. "Promise me you will not use it within the castle, and not at all until I give you permission. Save in the defense of your own life, or the life of others."


    Liv blinked. That was a lot, but she thought that she understood well enough. "Not indoors," she said. "And not until you tell me. Unless someone is in danger."


    "That¡¯s correct," Grenfell said.


    "I promise."


    "Good." The mage¡¯s shoulders rxed slightly, and when Gretta stepped through the doorway, he epted the bowl of stew she offered.


    "But why?" Liv asked. It was like trying not to brush a cut in your mouth with your tongue, now that she¡¯d thought of the word. It wanted to be said; it was practically vibrating through her body in an effort to get out, but she had promised she wouldn¡¯t.


    Before he answered, Grenfell took arge spoonful of stew, chewed, and swallowed. "This is excellent," heplimented Gretta. "Young Miss Brodbeck. Where do you put a pot of stew to cook it?"


    "Over the fire in the hearth," Liv said. She knew that nobles and mages had servants to cook for them; perhaps he had never made a meal in his life.


    "Just so. Fire is very useful," Master Grenfell said with a nod. "We can cook with it. We use it to warm our houses and castles in the winter, to heat water for bathing. We use it to forge metal. But what would happen if you put your hand into the fire in that hearth?"


    "I¡¯d be burned," Liv answered.


    "Magic is like fire," Kazamir Grenfell told her. "It is very useful. Tamiris¡¯ Gift allows us to do many things - things far more wondrous than simply heating water, or making a stew. Not to disparage the skill of our cooks," he said, turning to Gretta and Liv¡¯s mother with a smile and inclining his head. "But like fire, Liv, magic can burn you. You have a word of power, but not the slightest bit of training in how to use it. Have you ever baked a cake?"


    Liv shook her head. "I help Mama stir the batter."


    "If I gave you the ingredients, but no one to help, do you think you could do it alone?"


    Liv thought about it, then shook her head. "I could do something," she admitted, "but it wouldn¡¯t be right."


    "Using that word is much moreplicated than baking a cake," Grenfell told her. "And more dangerous. If you made a mistake, you would not simply be throwing out an overcooked dessert - you could hurt or kill yourself, or someone else. Today should be all the proof of that you need. You saved a little girl, but you also encased yourself in ice and nearly froze to death. The only reason that no one else was hurt was that you had run out from the crowd, and no one was close to you. It will not be safe for you to speak that word until you have been taught to use it."


    Liv nodded; when he put it like that, things made a lot more sense. The word still vibrated restlessly somewhere in her chest, but she silently told it to go to sleep. "Will you teach me, then?" she asked the court mage. "So it¡¯s safe?"


    Grenfell frowned and leaned back, but it was Mama who answered. "Master Mage Grenfell already has students," she said. "And they pay for the privilege."


    "Oh." Liv tried not to look disappointed.


    "How much does it cost?" Gretta asked.


    Master Grenfell looked over to the old woman, measuring her for a long moment, and then spoke. "The Mayor and Master Mason each pay me thirty-two gold crowns a year to tutor their daughters."


    "We understand," Mama said. "We can¡¯t afford that. She¡¯ll just not use the magic, then."


    "Nonsense. I will pay it," Gretta said.


    "You can¡¯t," Liv¡¯s mother protested.


    "Of course I can!" Gretta smiled. "I have no children, Maggie. The closest thing to a granddaughter I¡¯ve got is our Livy. What else should I spend my wages on? I live at the castle, I eat in the kitchen. I don¡¯t need new clothes or fancy things. What good will it do me to save a pile of gold for when I die?"


    Grenfell turned to Liv. "It will be difficult," he warned her. "You will have to learn to read, first of all."


    "I know how to read," Liv said. "At least, a little."


    "We¡¯re cooks," Mama exined to the mage. "We don¡¯t read books, but we keep recipes. You¡¯ll find she knows a bit of arithmetic, as well, Master Grenfell. Enough to measure cups and spoons. And she already knows the spark charm. She¡¯s a bright girl."


    "Very well," the mage said. "I will speak to the baron to see that you are excused from your duties for lessons. I suppose that at the same time, I will speak to him about your broken ankle, if Master Cushing has not already done so. Since you can read, I imagine you can write a little, as well?"


    "A little," Liv agreed. She hoped that Master Grenfell would not ask her to show him; her letters were awkward and ill-shaped. To her disappointment, he removed a small leatherbound book, norger than a man¡¯s hand, from a pocket in his robes. With it, he produced a quill and a small bottle of ink.


    "I would like you to write for me," Grenfell said, opening the book to a nk page, "the word you spoke today."


    "I¡¯m not certain how to spell it," Liv admitted.


    "That is fine," the mage assured her. "Simply write it how it sounds to you."


    "Is it dangerous to write?" Mama asked him.


    "If it was, he wouldn¡¯t ask," Gretta pointed out.


    "Not dangerous at all, Miss Brodbeck," Grenfell assured her. "Not unless she were to write in the sigils of the old tongue. Which I believe we may safely assume young Liv does not know."


    Liv shook her head, lifted the quill, and pulled the cork out of the bottle of ink. She rested the bottle on the bedside table, set the book in herp, and dipped the quill. Carefully, she wrote out: Kelevatis, set the quill aside, and gave the open book to the mage.


    Grenfell examined the page carefully. "Is there a reason you chose to use a ¡¯k,¡¯ rather than a hard ¡¯c?" he asked her.


    "I don¡¯t know," Liv said. "I¡¯ve never seen it written, I can just¡­hear it. How it sounds. Is that wrong?"


    "That is the way the Eld of the North would write it," Master Grenfell said. "I thought it interesting, that is all." Liv felt as if the tips of her ears were on fire, and she resisted the urge to raise her hand and touch one. Grenfell blew gently on the ink, and rose from his chair. "Tomorrow is the eleventh day of the month," he said. "You will attend me in my chambers, with the other students, at the ninth hour. You will do so on every morning that is not a festival day or market day, so long as your tuition continues to be paid."


    He rose from his chair, but did not move to leave the chamber, instead packing away the ink bottle, once again corked, in his robes. "When I give you work between lessons, you willplete it," he instructed her. "It is up to you to find the time between your duties to the baron and this castle. I will not ept excuses."


    "Understood, Master Grenfell," Liv said, and raised her hand to cover a yawn.


    "With that, I believe I will leave you to rest." The mage gathered up his book, holding it open, and the quill in his other hand.


    "Let me get that door for you," Gretta said, and the room began to empty out. Liv, suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl up in her nest of nkets, turned over on her side, closed her eyes, and before she knew it, was asleep, with the cat snuggled up against her.


    ?


    Liv wasn¡¯t certain whether it was the throbbing ache from her ankle that woke her, or the fact that she was alone in the bed. She¡¯d slept with her mother for as long as she could remember, since she was an infant, and it helped to keep them both warm on the coldest winter nights. But tonight, even the cat had gone, and the castle was a drafty ce.


    Outside in the hallway, something creaked.


    Castle Whitehill was old, and as Gretta said, old buildings made noise. It was nothing to be frightened of - though the woman certainly enjoyed telling Liv ghost stories. Whether there was actually a rusted old axe at the bottom of the river that had been used to murder a man or not, Liv didn¡¯t know. She did know that what she was hearing was not a normal night sound. It was the creak of a door.


    The two castle mousers, Charlie and Peg, were usually silent unless they¡¯d caught prey. Everyone had chamber pots in their rooms, so there was no cause for anyone in the servants¡¯ quarters to be out of bed at whatever hour it was. Who was creeping about in the middle of the night?


    Carefully, Liv pushed back her nkets, rotated her body, and got her good foot on the ground. She found that she could support her weight on one leg easily enough, and that by keeping a hand on the wall, she could hop along without much trouble. Her mother would be furious if she was caught, but what if something was wrong? d in her stockings and shift, Liv opened her door as quietly as possible, and ducked her head out into the hall.


    She was just in time to see the door to the servants¡¯ stairs swing shut. That meant that someone was heading up into the rest of the castle, where none of the servants should be in the middle of the night. For a moment, she considered going back into her room and looking for the crutch that Master Cushing had promised her, but it was dark and she might be left behind. Instead, Liv hopped out of her room and down the hall. When she got to the door, she cracked it open and peeked up the stairs.


    Was that the faintest glow from a candle? She thought that it might be. Liv considered the problem of the stairs, and made a trial of putting her hands out to press against the stairwell on either side. She could support her weight with both hands, for a moment at least, while she swung her good foot up to the next step.


    Liv hurried up the stairs as quick as she could, and did her best to remain quiet. She knew she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up with whoever was ahead, but the creak of another door told her their destination was on the second floor, right above her.


    When she finally got out into the hallway, Liv couldn¡¯t see any sign of where the mystery person might have gone to. She was just about to admit defeat when a chill breeze blew down the hall, lifting the hem of her shift. Liv set out into the wind, and found that the door to the Room of Curiosities was ajar.


    If no one from the servants quarters should be on this floor, that went double for the Old Baron¡¯s collection. The things in that room were precious, even Liv knew that, and none of the servants had any business with them. Perhaps Master Grenfell hade down to take a midnight snack from the kitchen, and then gone up to do more work? If so, she would feel rather foolish, but also a bit relieved.


    Carefully, Liv made her way over to the door, being as quiet as she could. Rather than hop, she slid her foot along using her stocking, and leaned against the stone wall of the corridor. When she reached the door to the chamber, Liv saw the faintest glow of light from within, and the shadow of a person retreating from the window.


    A cloud must have passed, because the pale light of the moon and the ring overhead flooded into the chamber all at once, revealing the face of Bill, the footman. Liv was just about to step forward and ask him what he was doing when a bat flew in through the window, just like the one she¡¯d found in the morning.


    Seeing the bat, Bill turned and hurried out of the room. Liv pressed herself back against the wall of the corridor, in the deepest shadow she could find, hoping not to be seen. He never even once looked in her direction, however, and headed directly for the servants¡¯ stair, as if afraid.


    Liv risked one look back into the chamber. The bat was gone, reced by the shape of a woman, whose mane of dark hair rustled in the cold night breeze.


    "Wren?" Liv asked, before she could think better of it.

 5. Five Crowns

    Moonlight shed on steel, and the huntress had a dagger in hand, raised between her and the doorway. Liv jerked back in shock. She wasn¡¯t aware of putting her weight down on her broken ankle until she felt a sudden, piercing pain. With a cry, she crumpled to the floor. No one had ever drawn a weapon on her before.


    "You should have stayed in bed," Wren hissed, lowering her de. "Don¡¯t move." Instead ofing over to help, the woman strode over to one of the wall shelves on which so many strange objects had been disyed. Her hand hovered over the statue of a woman, carved from white stone.


    "What are you doing?" Liv asked her. "You shouldn¡¯t be in here." From somewhere down the hall, she heard voices and footsteps.


    "No time," Wren muttered to herself. She hesitated an instant more, then scooped the statue up with one hand and cradled it under her arm. For a moment, she seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but the room was silent and still. The dark-haired hunter breathed a sigh of relief, though Liv wasn¡¯t certain what she could have been afraid of.


    "Put that back!" Liv told her. "It isn¡¯t yours."


    "It doesn¡¯t belong to your baron, either," Wren said, turning away from the shelf. She strode quickly across the room to the window. "It was stolen, and brought here from Varuna, across the sea. I¡¯m just taking it back." She sat on the window, lifted her legs, and swivelled so that they swung out, dangling into the night. "I¡¯m sorry you woke up tonight, girl," she said. "They¡¯re going to me you for this, and you don¡¯t deserve it."


    "Wait!" Liv cried out. Wren¡¯s body, her clothing, and even the statue all turned dark, glistening in the light of the moon and the rings as if she was wet. Then, her form copsed in on itself, and before Liv could do anything, a bat was stretching its wings in the open window. The statue was gone, the huntress was gone, and then the bat flew off into the night.


    Liv used the wall to lever herself up onto one foot, but her ankle was still throbbing.


    "What¡¯s going on in here?" One of the castle guardsmen barged into the room, carrying an oilntern encased in ss. Warm light flooded the room, driving away the shadows.


    "She stole something!" Liv cried, pointing into the night. "I couldn¡¯t stop her, and I fell down because of my ankle, and then she turned into a bat and went out the window!"


    "You shouldn¡¯t be up here, girl," the guard said. "Turned into a bat? Nonsense."


    "Who is in here?" Baron Henry called, striding into the room. He wore a nightgown, with a heavy robe thrown over it, and carried a sheathed sword in his left hand. "The cook¡¯s bastard?"


    "I told you, she stole something," Liv repeated, turning to the baron. "The statue. The white one of the woman. She said it came from across the ocean, and she was taking it back."


    Henry¡¯s eyes widened, and he turned to the shelf. "Bring the light over here," hemanded the guard, who hurried toply. "It¡¯s gone," the baron said, running his hands over the empty ce on the shelf, and looking down at the floor, as if the missing statue might have fallen. When he turned back to Liv, it was with cold eyes, and she shivered.


    "Were you thinking to sell it, then? Search her," hemanded the guard. The hall was filled with a growingmotion, now, as more guards arrived, and then Lady Julianne crowded in at the doorway. The guard seized Liv roughly, and patted his hands over her shift.


    "She doesn¡¯t have anything," the guard said, but kept a painful grip on Liv¡¯s arm.


    "What did you do with the statue?" Henry demanded, taking two steps across the room toward her. He was more angry than she had ever seen before.


    "I didn¡¯t do anything!" Liv protested. "The hunter woman was here, her name was Wren. She came in the window after Bill opened it, and then she took it."


    "The footman, Bill?" Julianne asked from the doorway.


    Liv nodded. "Him! I heard him going up the stairs, so I went to see what he was doing, and he opened the window for her!"


    "I think you had better have the servants¡¯ quarters searched," Lady Julianne suggested to her husband.


    "Take her to the great hall," Henrymanded the guard who had a hold of Liv. "The rest of you men, wake the servants. Do not allow them to dress, or to take anything from their rooms. Take them immediately to the hall, as well, and keep them there." The guards rushed off, and Liv found herself half-dragged to the door.


    "Move it, girl," the guard holding her said.


    "I can¡¯t walk on my ankle," she protested, hopping to keep up with him.


    "Just carry her," Henry said.


    "My lord!" Master Grenfell was in the hallway now, trying to get around the guards and into the Room of Curiosities. "What happened?" The guard threw Liv over his shoulder, and she cried out from the painful jostling her ankle took.


    "The statue of Ractia," the baron answered. "Someone has stolen it, and the cook¡¯s bastard was involved somehow. Look, Kazamir, there¡¯s something left on the window sill¡­"


    Liv tried to listen for more, but she was carried helplessly to the stairs, and then down, bouncing at every step the guard took. He wasn¡¯t at all being gentle, and she let him know. "My ankle¡¯s broken!" sheined.


    "Thieves don¡¯t have any right to whine," the guard grunted. "Now shut it, or you¡¯ll feel the back of my hand."


    In the great hall, Liv was roughly deposited onto one of the benches used for the low tables. It would have been better if she had Rose to hug, or if one of the castle cats came by, but she had to sit alone, with the guard ring at her. She hadn¡¯t been there more than a few moments before Gretta, her mother, and all the other servants were herded in by the baron¡¯s guards.


    "Liv!" her mother cried out, rushing forward to her. "Where were you?"


    "I woke up and you weren¡¯t there," Liv said. "And I heard something in the hall. So I-"


    "No talking," Baron Henry said, hurrying in with his wife and Master Mage Grenfell at his side. "First Footman," he said, addressing Archibald. "We will be questioning each of the servants alone, starting with the scullion. I expect you to help the guards keep order."


    "Of course, Baron," Archibald said, standing straight even in his night clothes. "You heard the lord," he said, rounding on the other servants. "Sit to yourselves quietly. So long as you have done no wrong against this house, you will be back in your beds shortly."


    "Why do you want to talk to Liv?" Mama asked. "She hasn¡¯t done anything. And she¡¯s hurt."


    "It will just be a moment, Miss Brodbeck," Master Grenfell said, but Liv didn¡¯t think he sounded very certain about it. "Come along, Liv."


    "They wouldn¡¯t even let us take her crutch," Grettained. "I don¡¯t know what all this is about, but that isn¡¯t right."


    The guards, even the ones who were normally friendly, like Piers, who always was hanging about the kitchens looking for a snack, were cold and brusque. Liv found herself half pushed, half carried through the castle to Baron Henry¡¯s sr, where she was ced in a chair opposite the baron. The room would have beenfortable, with a thick rung and tapestries on the walls, if she did not feel like a prisoner. Master Grenfell stood at his lord¡¯s left shoulder, and a momentter Lady Julianne rushed in, as well.


    "You should go back to our chambers," Henry protested.


    "I¡¯m in no danger from a young girl," his wife argued back. "This is my family as well, now. I should be here for this."


    Henry sighed. "Very well. Kazamir, pull a chair over for her." Once Julianne had settled herself into a seat, all three turned back to Liv. The guard took up a position at the door.


    Master Grenfell had taken out his little leather book, again, and turned to a new page with his quill and bottle of ink ready, all set on Baron Henry¡¯s desk. "Tell us what happened tonight," he instructed her.


    "I woke because my leg hurt," Liv said, "and because Mama wasn¡¯t in bed, and Charlie had left, so I was cold. But then I heard something in the hall, so I got up to see what it was, and it was someone with a candle going to the servants¡¯ stairs."


    "Did you see who it was?" Grenfell asked her.


    "Not then," Liv said, shaking her head. "Butter. It took me a long time to get up the stairs, and I thought I¡¯d lost him, but then the window was open, so I could feel the wind from outside."


    "Which window?" the mage asked.


    "The one in the Room of Curiosities," Liv said. "The same one that was open this morning, when I brought you your breakfast."


    "There was a window open this morning?" Henry asked Grenfell, turning to the mage with a frown. It was a relief that he was no longer focused on her.


    "When I entered the room, yes," he replied, writing carefully at the same time.


    "And the bat flew out this morning, remember?" Liv asked. When Grenfell nodded, she continued. "I think the bat was the woman."


    "Stop," the mage said, holding up one hand. "We shall do this in good order, in an organized fashion. You followed the wind to the Room of Curiosities. What then?"


    "Bill came rushing out, and I put my back against the wall, but he didn¡¯t even see me," Liv said. "I think he was scared, because he was rushing down the hall for the stairs, and he didn¡¯t even look."


    "You entered the room after that?" Grenfell asked.


    Liv nodded. "And the woman from the fair was there. The one who carried me to the carriage - Wren. She had a dagger, and she took the statue of thedy, and when I told her she shouldn¡¯t do that, she said it had been stolen from Va-room-a." She pronounced the word as carefully as she could, because it was a strange one to her.


    "The western continent?" Lady Julianne broke in. "Was this one of your father¡¯s prizes, Henry?"


    "Set that aside for the moment, if you would, mydy," Grenfell said. "This woman. How did she leave, Liv?"


    "She went out the window," Liv exined. "It was very strange. She got all dark and shiny, like she was water at night, and then she was gone, and the statue too. Just a bat was left, and I think it was the one from this morning, and it flew away and then that was it. The guard came."


    "This story is ridiculous," Baron Henry said. "A woman turning into a bat? Where did you hide the statue, girl?"


    "If you will forgive me, my lord," Master Grenfell broke in. "There are several elements of what this girl has said that I can confirm personally. There was a woman by that name, a foreigner, at the festival, and she did help us bring young miss Brodbeck back to the castle. There was a window open this morning that should not have been, and a bat that flew away when I entered the room. At the time, I thought one of the maids had been airing the room out, and simply neglected to close the window, but now I am not so certain. I would like to know what has been found in the footman¡¯s possessions, and to speak to him, as well."


    "Go get the footman," Henry ordered the guard standing at the door. "And anything that was found in his room."


    The horologe in the corner of the sr struck the hour while they waited for the guard to return - Liv counted three bells. She shifted ufortably in the chair she¡¯d been given: her ankle was throbbing something fierce now, and she was afraid she¡¯d made it worse than it already was by standing on it.


    "Let me be perfectly clear, girl," Henry said, once the chiming had died down. "If I discover that you were involved in a theft from this castle, I will put both you and your mother out on the streets, and I will have your hand in the bargain."


    "I didn¡¯t take anything, m¡¯lord," Liv said, keeping her eyes lowered. Her grandparents were dead. Where would Mama and her go, if they couldn¡¯t live in the castle anymore? She tucked her hands underneath her legs to hide them.


    "That has yet to be determined," the baron said.


    "She¡¯s wearing nothing but a shift and hose," Lady Julianne broke in. "By the Trinity, Henry, where could she possibly have hidden it? And with a broken ankle? Don¡¯t frighten the girl."


    The baron opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak the guards hustled in the footman, Bill.


    "Was there anything found in his room?" Henry asked, and the guard stepped forward, holding out his hand. In the light of thenterns, gold glinted in his palm.


    "Five Crowns, m¡¯lord," the guard said, handing the coins over to the baron.


    Henry¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Where does a footman get five crowns, boy?" he asked.


    "I¡¯ve been saving them up," Bill muttered.


    "You make ten and seven pennies a day," Henry shot back. "At that wage, it would take you-"


    "One hundred and forty-seven days," Master Mage Grenfell supplied.


    "Near a hundred and fifty days to save that," Henry continued. "Five crowns saved on a Footman¡¯s wage." He snorted. "Tell me where the money came from, Bill, and do not lie to me. Do it now, and I will not take your hand. You have my word."


    The footman¡¯s face drained entirely of blood, and Liv didn¡¯t me him: she believed every word Baron Henry said. She shuddered at the thought of her own arm ending in a stump, raw and bleeding. The idea of it was horrible.


    "I didn¡¯t steal nothing," Bill said, crumbling. "Please, you have to believe me, m¡¯lord!" he begged. "She just told me to open the window, three nights running!"


    "She?" Grenfell leaned forward, quill pen at the ready. "Describe the woman. This is the person who gave you the coins, yes? What was her name?"


    "She never told me," Bill said, shaking his head. "She had ck hair, and a fur cloak. She looked like a hunter or a trapper, and her voice was odd."


    "Odd how?" Henry asked.


    "Something about how she said things," the boy told them. "It just wasn¡¯t quite right. Like when she made a ¡¯w¡¯ sound, it was more like a ¡¯v," Bill said. "And other things like that. Just not how it should have been."


    "And did you open the window yesterday evening?" Grenfell asked. Bill nodded miserably. "Did you open it again tonight?"


    "I¡¯m sorry," the footman pleaded. "I didn¡¯t know she was going to do nothing."


    "If that is true you are a fool," Henry said. "A foreign woman pays you to open the castle windows, to a room that you know contains rare and precious artifacts, and you did not even consider that she might be a thief? I think it more likely the coins were enough for you to put any other thought out of your mind. You are released from service, William. I promised I would not take your hand if you gave me the truth, and so I shall not, but that is the extent of my mercy. I rmend that when the snows melt, you seek your fortune elsewhere. Take him and throw him out the gates," Henry instructed the guard, who grabbed Bill and dragged him from the sr.


    "Varuna," Master Grenfell murmured. "That fits, my lord. And the blood on the window sill. There should be records of where your father acquired that particr artifact that we can consult."


    "Do that as soon as you¡¯ve gotten dressed," Henry instructed. "I want every guard we have in the streets, and I want that woman found."


    "If she truly is what we suspect," Grenfell protested, "they will not find her. She will simply fly south to a port and find a ship to take her west."


    "I will write a letter to Duke Thomas and send it immediately," Henry said. "He can search every ship that leaves. We will find her."


    The mage blew gently across his book, to dry the ink. "It is said that the children of Ractia can take many shapes," he cautioned. "I think you should prepare yourself for disappointment, my lord. I will send word to the guild, so that we might consult with an expert. I also think we should take inventory of everything in that room, to be certain the statue is the only thing missing."


    "While all of this is no doubt important," Lady Julianne said, rising, "I do not think this young girl needs to be present any longer."


    Henry frowned, but then nodded. "As you say." He regarded Liv the way she might look at an ant on the kitchen table before she killed it. "I am pleased that you were loyal to this house, girl," he said. "I will see that you are rewarded for it. Go along with the Baroness, now."


    "Yes, m¡¯lord," Liv said, and carefully rose from her chair.


    "Here, take my arm, child," Lady Julienne said. "Your name is Liv, yes? Such a pretty name." By the time they had made their way out of the sr and into the hallway, the baron and Master Grenfell were back to speaking in hushed tones about the theft.


    "Thank you, mdy," Liv said. "I can make my way back downstairs," she offered. It felt very ufortable to be leaning on thedy of the castle.


    "Nonsense," Julienne dismissed the idea. "I will return you to your mother. It¡¯s what I would want someone to do, if my child was hurt," she said. "And I have something to speak to you about, as well. I am told that you are a bastard, Liv."


    "Yes, mdy." Liv hunched her shoulders in, and stared at the floor of the hallway.


    "What a coincidence," the baroness said. "I am, as well."

 6. The Old Tongue

    "You can¡¯t be," Liv eximed, and then looked around the hall and lowered her voice. "Does the Baron know, mdy?" How could that man stand to lower himself by marrying a woman of low birth?


    Lady Julianne grinned. "Of course he knows. I haven¡¯t been wed long, but I think I can give you at least one piece of advice: don¡¯t begin by lying to your husband. I¡¯ve seen how well that¡¯s worked for my step-mother, and I have no interest in following her path."


    "But," Liv protested, "Baron Henry hates that I¡¯m a bastard. Everyone says that if I¡¯d been born after his father died, he would have put us both out on the street for the shame of it."


    "I have an advantage or two that you do not, I will admit," Julianne said, helping Liv down the stairs. She was so distracted that they were three steps down before she realized they were taking the grand staircase, and not the servants¡¯ stairs.


    "I shouldn¡¯t even be here, mdy," Liv said.


    "You can¡¯t expect thedy of the castle to use the servants¡¯ stairs, can you?" Julianne asked with a glint in her eye. "Besides, the railings are much nicer here, and we¡¯ll need them to get down, between your ankle, and my belly."


    Liv bit her lip. Baron Henry was cold and terrifying, but his wife seemed nice. "What do you have?" she asked. "That I don¡¯t, I mean. Mdy."


    "For one thing," Julianne exined, keeping one arm around Liv¡¯s waist, "I have my father. He never married my mother, but he took me in from the time I was an infant, and raised me as his daughter. I cannot inherit, of course. Still, I had tutors, a maid, and more dresses than any girl could wear if you gave her a lifetime. Even after my father finally wed, and my half-brother was born, Father didn¡¯t turn me out."


    "I don¡¯t know my father," Liv admitted. "Everyone says he was one of the Eld."


    "So I am told," Julianne said, helping Liv down thest few steps. "And that, dear girl, gives you an advantage that I did not have."


    "What?" Liv tried to imagine what she could possibly have that the baron¡¯s wife did not. She was a woman of wealth and position; by her own admission, she¡¯d been cared for by a wealthy father. She was also elegant and beautiful, even in thete stages of her pregnancy, and wearing only her night clothes.


    "Your magic," Julianne said. "Whatever else youck, your father gave you that."


    "He did?" Liv asked.


    "It certainly did note from your mother," the older woman said, as they turned toward the kitchens. "Margaret is a wonder in the kitchen, but she does not have pointed ears or white hair, dear. She doesn¡¯t have blue eyes that look like winter ice. And she could not have saved that girl the way I am told you did."


    "I wish I did look like my mother," Liv said, before she could think better of it. "Then I wouldn¡¯t be so small and ugly."


    Lady Julianne drew her up in front of the door to the kitchen. "I think you will find, Liv, that when you are grown you are anything but ugly. Now. Master Grenfell has informed me that you will begin lessons with him."


    "Yes, mdy," Liv confirmed, lowering her eyes. What would the first footman think if he saw her being so familiar with the Baron¡¯s wife? It wasn¡¯t the ce of a scullion to speak to thedy of the castle.


    "Good," Julianne said. "Mind your lessons. I will make certain my husband does not object to modifying your duties. Now go on and find your mother - she must be beside herself after all this uproar."


    Liv made a curtsy as best she could, holding onto the door so that she wouldn¡¯t fall, and then slipped into the kitchen.


    In spite of the early hour, someone had already lit a fire in the hearth. Mama and Gretta were frying potato cakes, and had brought a jar of preserved apple sauce up from the cold cer. There was an iron kettle of hot tea at the table, where Archibald looked up from a conversation with Tom, the remaining footman. Even Sophie, the serving maid who had been sick in bed all day, was cradling a cup of hot tea.


    "Good," Archibald said. "Now that everyone is here, I have a few words to say. Tom, please bring Liv her crutch so that she can have a seat and get a bite to eat."


    Tom scrambled to his feet, picked up a length of wood with an armrest at the top that had been wrapped in cloth, and brought it over to where Liv leaned against the door. "Thank you," she said, but he merely ducked his head and returned to the table. Liv put the crutch under her arm, and immediately noticed how much easier it was to move herself about. The first footman waited until she was seated, with a trencher of fried potato cakes and apple sauce in front of her, before he continued.


    "I know that it was quite a disturbance to be roused in the middle of the night," Archibald said inly. "And that we are now out a footman. Between that and Liv¡¯s injury, it is going to be a difficult few days. I am going to need each one of you to step up to the challenge ahead of us, for the good of the castle. You may be asked to perform tasks outside of your normal duties, and I expect that you will do so without hesitation orint. Every one of us must do what we can to take up the ck until a new footman has been hired."


    Liv kept her eyes on her food, slicing off a piece of potato cake and dipping it in the applesauce. After the harvest, she¡¯d spent hours helping Gretta and her mother boil down bushels of apples, jarring them, and carrying everything down to the cold cer tost the winter. Now, she found that she was absolutely famished, and ate quickly while she listened to the first footman talk.


    "I have also been informed," Archibald said, "That our Livy will be attending lessons with Master Grenfell. We congratte her, but that is going to mean that certain duties will need to be shifted around. Maggie, at what hour are the lessons?"


    Liv¡¯s mother spoke up without leaving the cakes she was flipping. "From ninth bell until noon," she said.


    Archibald chewed on that for a moment. "Liv, you wille down to light the hearth as normal. Everyone will bring their own chamber pots to you to be scrubbed. I don¡¯t believe any of us wish one of the pots dropped in the hall." Sophie wrinkled her nose at that.


    "I believe you should be able to set the table before breakfast, clear it after, and clean the dishes before you go upstairs," the first footman said, and Liv nodded. With the crutch, she thought she could manage well enough. "Tom and Sophie will set and clear the tables for all meals during your lessons, and when youe down, Liv, you will wash the dishes. You will carry out your normal duties from that point on."


    "Yes sir," Liv said, looking down at her empty trencher with longing. She was still hungry.


    "I don¡¯t see why I should have to do extra work so that she canze about upstairs, getting above her station," Sophie remarked. She had a sour look about her, as if she¡¯d bitten a lime.


    "Why not?" Archibald shot back. "When you were sick abed yesterday, we all pitched in to see your dutiespleted - including Liv. That is what we do here. The worst will be over in a few days, when we have hired a new footman." When Sophie opened her mouth again, he kept going, right over her. "I will hear no more about it. You should be proud that one of us has earned an opportunity. I will not abide jealousy."


    Liv felt her cheeks flush under Sophie¡¯s gaze, but the serving maid said nothing further. "Now," the first footman said, "We did not n on getting an early start today, but we have it nheless. Let us take advantage. I expect everyone to be dressed and at their duties; the events of the night do not alter the fact that breakfast must be served on time, upstairs in the great hall."


    At the first footman¡¯smand, the serving staff sprung into action. Liv, as she scrubbed clean the chamber pots that were brought to her, one after the other, was forced to reconsider her feelings on ¡¯Mean Archie.¡¯ He was never going to stop being stern, she figured; but he had also put an immediate stop to Sophie¡¯s venom, and given Liv not so much as a harsh word about her morning lessons. In fact, he¡¯d said they should all be proud of her. In spite of the stink of the dirty pots, and the vinegar, Liv found herself smiling.


    By the time the ninth bell struck, Liv was dressed in fresh clothes and a clean apron, her hands still red from washing the dishes, but in front of Master Grenfell¡¯s chamber door right on time. She was surprised that there were no other children waiting - had something happened to dy them?


    A peal ofughter echoed down the hall, from the direction of the grand staircase, and two young women came into view just as Master Grenfell opened the door to his chambers. Liv thought she caught a slight twitching around his brow and the corner of his mouth, but the mage¡¯s voice was even when he spoke.


    "Miss Mason, Miss Cooper," Master Grenfell said. "Good morning to you. Pleasee in and take your seats. We are joined by Miss Brodbeck, a new student."


    "Good morning," Liv said, doing her best to make a curtsy with the aid of her crutch. When she nced up at the other two girls, however, their expressions gave the impression they¡¯d been confronted with ants at the table, or a particrlyrge and frightening spider.


    Griselda Mason and Mirabel Cooper were the sort of girls that even Liv recognized. In the first ce, they came to Castle Whitehill everyday for their lessons, delivered in a carriage so that neither had to debase herself with something as low-ss as actually walking on the streets. For the second, the two young women held court each and every market day, surrounded by a rotating gaggle of Whitehill Upon Aspen¡¯s young bachelors. Until this morning, Liv had never actually been put into a situation where she had to speak to either of them.


    They were like creatures from a different world. Their dresses were both of dark gray fabric for an outeryer, but brightly colored silk linings peeked out at the sleeves and cors. The daughters of merchants weren¡¯t permitted to dress like nobles, not openly, but by using expensive cloth on the inside of their skirts and bodices, they got away with flouting thews.


    Both girls were taller than Liv, though she thought not much older. Their hair was uncovered, and pinned up with beautiful woodenbs; a few artful curls of honey-blonde hair escaped, no doubt quite deliberately arranged. Kohl had been used to outline their eyes, and Liv suspected the red blush of their cheeks came less from the winter cold, and more from the application of rouge. Even their eyebrows were elegant, no doubt carefully plucked by their maids. Confronted with them, Liv wanted to crawl away and hide.


    "What is that doing here?" Mirabel asked, turning to Master Grenfel as if she¡¯d been presented with a shovel-full of manure, instead of a new ssmate.


    "Miss Brodbeck will be taking lessons with you," Grenfell repeated, though Liv thought that his voice had a bit of a tremor to it. "Please,dies, go in and be seated."


    "I didn¡¯t realize you were taking on charity cases," Griselda remarked, and then the two girls brushed past Liv in a cloud of perfume and entered the room. Liv realized that she was biting her lip.


    "Please," Grenfell said, extending his hand to direct Liv into the chamber. She shuffled in with her eyes down, and found that three chairs had been arranged in front of matching desks. In the brief moment they¡¯d had in the room ahead of her, Mirabel and Griselda had moved their two desks off to one side, creating a space between where they sat and the empty third chair that was waiting for Liv.


    Liv scurried over to her desk, while Master Grenfell paced up to the front of the room, where a tall wooden table of some sort - she didn¡¯t know the name of it - was waiting for him. On her own desk she found a piece of white chalk and a te.


    "Do you think she even knows how to read?" Mirabel whispered to her friend, just loud enough to be certain that Liv would hear her.


    "Let us review, for the benefit of our newest student," Grenfell began. He waspletely ignoring what Mirabel had said, Liv realized. Or hadn¡¯t he heard? "Why do we study grammar?"


    Griselda answered, her tone and expression both conveying her boredom. "Because the old tongue is thenguage of magic," she said.


    "V?dic," the master mage corrected her. "You may perpetuate the widespread ignorance of humanity when you are at home, but at least in this room we will be precise and exact. Thenguage of magic, as you call it, Miss Mason, is the first tongue of this world. It was thenguage used by the V?dic Lords before they were cast down. What fragments remain to us form the words of power used by the Mage Guild, by noble families such as our own Summersets, and even by your father¡¯s own Hall of Bricyers and Masons."


    Words of power, Liv realized, like the one that hade to her the day before on the frozen river. At the memory, it stirred in the back of her mind, like a cat arching its back after a long nap in the sun.


    "And yet, a word of power alone is insufficient," Grenfell continued. "Do you recall why, Miss Brodbeck?"


    Liv jumped in her seat, suddenly aware of the other two girls watching her. She thought back to what the master mage had told her the day before, and what he¡¯d made her promise. "You said it was like fire," she said, finally. "That it wasn¡¯t safe to say, unless you¡¯d been taught to do it right."


    "Do you even know what grammar is?" Mirabel asked, from across the room.


    Liv shook her head, and lowered her eyes to the te on her desk.


    "See?" the mayor¡¯s daughterined. "I doubt she even knows how to read. What is a peasant like that doing here with us?"


    "I can read," Liv muttered.


    "I doubt that," Griselda chimed in.


    "Miss Brodbeck is here," Master Grenfell broke in, "because she has a very rare and unique gift. She is here because yesterday she saved Emma Forrester by using a word of power. I imagine the story is already making its way around the town. You both should understand by now how dangerous a word is in the hands of someone who is untrained, if your studies here have meant anything to you. Liv must learn at least enough so that she does not pose a danger to Whitehill."


    "That was her?" Griselda eximed. "I thought it was you."


    "Which word?" Mirabel broke in.


    Liv looked to Master Grenfell for guidance. She shouldn¡¯t say it out loud, should she?


    "That is not relevant to today¡¯s lesson," the mage said.


    "Maybe not to the lesson," Mirabel pushed on, "But it will be to my father. Unauthorized use of a registered word of power is a crime. Who did she learn it from - or did she steal it?"


    A sudden rushing sound in her ears kept Liv from hearing what was said next. She¡¯d known that nobles were secretive about their magic, and the guilds as well - but a crime? Had she broken the king¡¯sws, yesterday? But all she¡¯d meant to do was save a little girl from drowning. It was an ident.


    "It was an ident," she repeated, out loud. "I didn¡¯t steal anything. No one taught me. It was just there, in my throat, and it came out."


    The argument in the room stopped at her words, and there was a long moment of silence.


    "Say that if you like," Mirabel said, finally. "But you can be certain I will go directly home to my father when we are finished here and tell him. I expect he will meet with the sheriff this afternoon, and then you can lie to them and see if they believe you."


    "I have already consulted the records of the guild," Grenfell said. "The word spoken by Miss Brodbeck is not one registered to any noble family in this kingdom. Now. We will continue, and there will be no further discussion on this topic during our lesson. Is that understood?" When there was no response, the mage moved on with his lesson.


    There was a great deal to do with words that Liv had never heard of before: nouns and verbs and conjugations and cases, and there were charts as well, full of letters and pieces of words. She dutifully copied everything onto her te, but she didn¡¯t really understand anything that Master Grenfell was saying.


    All Liv could think about was what Mirabel Cooper had promised to do. It was all well and good for a master mage to say the matter was over with, but what if the sheriff didn¡¯t agree? What kind of crime was it, anyway, to use a word of power? The kind meant a fine in silver? The kind where they jailed you, or put you in the stocks?


    Or was it a crime you went to the headsman for?

 7. Blackwood鈥檚 Bestiary

    Over the course of three bells spent under Master Grenfell¡¯s instruction, Liv realized just how hopelessly lost she was.


    The first hour consisted of studying what the master mage called ¡¯grammar,¡¯ and she found the entire thing twisted her mind into knots. She had never really had to think aboutnguage before: people just talked, didn¡¯t they? Sometimes you learned a new word that you¡¯d never heard before, but that was normal. What was there to study?


    But no, apparently words were sorted into different categories, and those categories had names. Why anyone would possibly need to know those names, Liv couldn¡¯t understand. She supposed Master Grenfell must have a reason, and she was willing to take it on faith he thought it necessary, but she had never heard any of this before.


    When the mage understood just how lost she was, he set the two older girls to drawing strange diagrams of words and lines on their tes, and then pulled a chair up next to Liv and her desk. "We will begin with parts of speech," he said. "Let us talk about pronouns."


    Personal attention from Master Grenfell helped to calm Liv¡¯s rising panic. She¡¯d never attended a ss on anything, before. Everything she¡¯d ever learned had been from working with her mother, or Gretta, or one of the other servants in the kitchens. She tried to ignore whatever Mirabel and Griselda were whispering about, and did her best to stuff her worries about the sheriff at the back of her mind.


    "I imagine your mother has taught you to cook a few things, hasn¡¯t she?" Master Grenfell asked. Liv nodded. "Tell me something you know how to cook well."


    "Oatcakes," Liv said, after thinking for a moment. Mostly, she was only allowed to help in small ways: measuring out ingredients, rolling dough, or mixing batter. But Gretta had taught her how to make oatcakes from beginning to end the year before, so that she could make a birthday breakfast for her mother.


    "Good," Grenfell said. "I don¡¯t know that I have ever made oatcakes, Miss Brodbeck. Tell me, what ingredients do you need to use?"


    "Oats, of course," Liv said. "And good cinnamon from Lendh ka Dakruim. And then egg whites. Butter to fry them in, and some fresh fruit or preserves to put on top when you serve them."


    "Cinnamon is a spice, I believe?" the mage asked, and Liv nodded. "There are other spices that you use in the kitchen as well. Mace, pepper, clove¡­ would the oatcakes taste right if you were to use clove, instead of cinnamon?"


    "No!" Liv shook her head and made a face. "Ew. Why would you do that?"


    "But they are both spices, aren¡¯t they?" Grenfell said. "What difference does it make?"


    "Different spices have different tastes," she said. "You can¡¯t just put any spice in any recipe. It doesn¡¯t work."


    "I would like," Master Grenfell said, "for you to think about different kinds of words as different kinds of ingredients. Like spices, you cannot simply use any pronoun you like. You cannot make an entire meal of spices, either - you need vegetables, meats, and what have you. Nor can you make a sentence of only pronouns, or only verbs. Making a functioning sentence is like following a recipe."


    Liv hadn¡¯t thought of it like that before - in fact, she hadn¡¯t even realized that you could think of talking in that way. "Some ingredients bind others together," she mused, thinking through theparison. "You need yeast to make bread rise, or butter to fry something in. Otherwise it doesn¡¯t work."


    "Correct," Grenfell said. "And without the right kinds of words, a sentence doesn¡¯t work. Which is why your magic wentpletely out of control, and nearly killed you."


    "I only had one ingredient," Liv realized.


    "Which meant that you were doomed to failure. I need you to learn how words and sentences work, before you use your magic again," the mage continued. "But I cannot have you learning using V?dic. You must learn and practice the principles using what you already know, because that is how we teach safely. Once you understand, you can begin learning V?dic. And to begin with, you are going to memorize a chart of pronouns."


    It was still daunting, but at least what she was being asked to do made sense after that conversation. Liv didn¡¯t actually have to learn new words - she already knew every one that was on the chart. She had to learn a new way of organizing them, of thinking about them. First, second and third person, singr and plural, male or female. There were categories within categories, like foods that were savory or sweet. She thought that she might be just beginning to get the hang of it when Master Grenfell moved the three girls on to doing something else at the top of the second hour of ss time.


    That something else, as it turned out, was a skill that Liv felt much morefortable with: singing. She¡¯s been joining her mother and Gretta in cooking songs for as long as she could remember, and even Archibald agreed that she had a nice voice. Again, however, Master Grenfell approached things in a way that was entirely strange to her. Instead of just starting a song and encouraging her to sing along, he had them breathing in all sorts of odd ways.


    "Breathe in and hold," Grenfellmanded, pacing around the three girls. "Hold. Hold¡­ and exhale." Liv gasped out, and struggled to follow along when the master mage instructed them to breathe in again. He had them use the muscles in their stomachs, or their lips and their nostrils, and to make specific sounds that he said would help them improve.


    Liv would have preferred just singing, especially because all of these exercises and tricks seemed to be things that Mirabel and Griselda were familiar with. They were able to do what Master Grenfell asked perfectly, the first time, while Liv often needed the mage to show her again, or take time to correct her. By the end of the second hour, she was no longer panicked about grammar or the sheriff, but simply frustrated at how much the mage couldplicate something that had always been simple and fun for her.


    It was the third hour, however, that finally made Liv feel as if she were really learning about magic. Ending breathing and voice exercises with the striking of the horologe at eleventh bell, Master Grenfell extracted arge, leather-bound book from one of his shelves, opened it, and ced it on his lectern. That was another new word that Liv had learned over the course of a very long morning.


    "This," he began, probably for Liv¡¯s benefit, "is a bestiary produced by the mage guild - specifically, by Master ckwood at the College of V?dic Grammar. It is the responsibility of every guild member who participates in the culling of a rift to submit a report on the beasts encountered during the culling, so that guild records can be updated. Those notes make their way into new editions of this book." He patted the tome with one hand. "We have been covering beastsmonly found in or around the rift at Bald Peak. We have extensive notes due to the Summerset family¡¯s many culling expeditions over the years of their reign here."


    "Like the bat on the wall of the Room of Curiosities?" Liv asked, speaking before she could stop herself.


    "Indeed," Grenfell said. "In fact, since we have such a convenient example, why don¡¯t we take that as our subject for the day. Come along, girls," he said, hefting the book into his arms. "Follow me."


    Liv sprang up from her chair, and then followed the mage out the door of the chamber and down the hall. She wanted to know about the strange stones and bony growths on the enormous, stuffed creature, and she was so excited about learning that she didn¡¯t pay attention to the two young women behind her.


    Liv had just set the tip of her crutch down, and was about to lift her good foot, when someone stepped on her heel from behind. With a cry, Liv fell forward and tumbled down onto the stone floor of the hallway. The crutch went ttering out of her grasp, and a sudden shock of pain pierced her bad ankle. Liv winced, and felt her eyes beginning to tear up.


    "Watch your step," Griselda sneered at her as the two girls went by, stepping around her.


    "You¡¯re so clumsy," Mirabel added, kicking the crutch as she went by so that it skittered even farther away, where Liv couldn¡¯t reach it without crawling. "Ooops. Better hurry up, cripple."


    Master Grenfell paused, turning to look back and frowning when he saw Liv on the ground. "Are you injured, Miss Brodbeck?" he asked.


    "I¡¯ll be alright," Liv said, reaching her crutch and using it to help her get to her feet.


    "You may need to slow down so that she can keep up," Mirabel remarked, with an innocent expression on her face.


    The mage frowned, and for just a moment Liv thought that he was going to do something to punish the awful girl. Surely he could see what they had done. Instead, he shook his head. "My apologies, Miss Brodbeck," Grenfell said. "I should have measured my pace in consideration of your injury. If you are ready, we shall proceed."


    This time, Liv deliberatelygged behind, keeping the two older girls ahead of her where she could see them. She had no intention of giving them another opportunity to hurt her. Unfortunately, doing that meant she was thest one to arrive in the Room of Curiosities, and she had to crane her neck to see past them. Somehow, Griselda and Mirabel always seemed to be in the way, no matter where Liv tried to stand to get a better view of the great bat mounted on the wall.


    "Take a good look," Grenfell invited them. "Visitors to the castle are not generally permitted into this room to view the collection - not without the baron¡¯s express permission. I have special dispensation to make a study of the room¡¯s contents, but if you were not my students you would not be permitted to enter. Be certain you touch nothing while you are here."


    "Are you going to tell us why it has those stones on its body?" Liv asked. Now that they were here, her excitement had returned. She wasn¡¯t going to let those awful girls ruin this. "What did you call them - A-loo-thet-stay-ah?"


    "Aluthet¡¯Staia," Grenfell said, correcting her. "Whitehill¡¯s most valuable natural resource and export," he exined. "Our agriculture supports our poption, and we do produce an excess of cattle suitable for trade. Our miners even find a bit of silver, from time to time, but none of that would be enough to support a town of this size, or to have built such an extensive castle for defense. Who can tell me what these stones are used for, and where theye from?"


    Griselda spoke up before anyone else could. "They¡¯re manastones - at least, that is what most people call them. The Mason¡¯s guild mines them at Bald peak."


    "Good," Master Grenfell said, with a nod. "You can think of each of these stones like a bucket - they can be filled with mana, and then emptied again when that mana is needed. Anyone capable of using high magic will find them valuable, for that reason. While the mage¡¯s guild is probably the singlergest consumer of Aluthet¡¯Staia, most noble houses want them as well. This demand,bined with the danger of mining the stone and its rarity, means that what our mine at Bald Peak produces fetches a high price."


    "But how did it get onto that bat?" Liv asked. She kept her eyes on the master mage, doing her best to ignore the looks the older two girls shot her. "Did it just grow there?"


    "Something very like that," Grenfell exined. "Beneath Bald Peak, down in the lowest level of the mines, is a minor rift. Based on artifacts recovered from the shoals, Baron Henry¡¯ste father believed that the V?dic Lords once mined the mountain for these stones, just as we do now. Like many ces where the old gods once walked, the lowest depths of the mines spill wild mana out into the world. That mana changes the animals that live in the caverns, or around the slopes of the mountain."


    "Look howrge the wingspan of this bat is," the mage continued. "Over six feet, at full extension. This is not some special species that naturally grows to a monstrous size; it is a normal cave bat, the kind that could be found all throughout the kingdom, in any cavern of sufficient size. It is the transformative effect of the uncontrolled mana which has caused the bat to swell and grow into what you see here. The stones protruding from its skin, and the bone casque along the top of its skull, are produced by the same cause."


    "What is a casque?" Liv asked. She didn¡¯t care what the other two girls thought of her, or what they said - this was what she¡¯d been hoping to learn the day before, when she came to the room with Master Grenfell¡¯s breakfast. It was a magic bat. "You said the mana affects everything that lives on the mountain. Does that mean there are magic mushrooms in the caves? And worms, and spiders?"


    "All of that and more," Grenfell confirmed, with a smile and augh. "But let us stick to the bat, for a moment. A casque, Miss Brodbeck, is a bony growth that is porous, nearly hollow, on the inside. Beasts such as this develop them as a way to store mana. The stones, in this case, function more as a sort of armored hide, being too small for any other purpose. No, the casque is what gave this bat its power." He ran a finger along the ¡¯v¡¯ shaped bone protrusion atop the monster¡¯s head.


    "Those things have killed two miners sincest flood," Griselda remarked. For once this morning, she was saying something that Liv was interested in. "Daddy says the baron is going to have to cull the entire ce soon, or the mining won¡¯t be able to continue."


    "That is a discussion for the baron and the guild," Grenfell stopped her, "and I will notment on it today, save to assure you all that we are monitoring the rift closely, and there has not yet been an eruption. You may trust that everything is under control. The Bald Peak Rift has been the responsibility of the Summerset family for a very long time, and they are quite familiar with the dangers."


    "In addition to raw size, an armored hide, and the ability to store mana," the mage continued, "these creatures have a highly developed sense unique to rifts like the one under Bald Peak. They are capable of perceiving the flow of mana itself, which makes them particrly suited to tracking mages in the shoals of the rift."


    "They always roost around the best deposits of manastone," Griselda agreed, with a nod.


    "We actually suspect they feed on it," Grenfell said. "I have dissected no few of these monsters, and their bellies are often full of small pebbles, emptied of mana."


    "Do they have a name?" Liv asked.


    "Most of the miners call them stone bats," the mage answered. "And Master ckwood judged that sufficient to use in their entry within the bestiary. It is fortunate we have an example here; you can learn a lot from this. Most of the mutationsmon around Bald Peak are disyed in this specimen-"


    The horologe in one corner of the room chimed noon, interrupting Master Grenfell. "Good day, Master," Mirabel said, and curtsied. Griselda followed her, and then both women left.


    "Liv," the mage said, "stay behind a moment."


    "I need to be downstairs to resume my duties," she told him.


    "I know. I simply want you to understand something," Grenfell said, crouching down next to her so that they were nearly on eye level. "Those two girls are not going to be mages."


    "They aren¡¯t?" Liv frowned. "Then why are they here?"


    "Their fathers pay for my instruction so that they can attend the College of V?dic Grammar when they turn eighteen," Master Grenfell exined. "Where they hope to catch a husband. They are merchant girls, Liv, and their families have no magic of their own - only the magic licensed to the guilds. What they do have is youth, beauty, and money. Applied correctly, those things may be enough for them to marry into a noble family, and the College is the best ce to meet the sort of young man they are looking for."


    "Oh." Liv wasn¡¯t quite certain what to say to that. "Is that why they camete?"


    Grenfellughed. "Very perceptive. What I am trying to exin to you, Miss Brodbeck, is that they don¡¯t really care to learn what I am teaching. They need to know just enough to be admitted to the college for a year. You, on the other hand," he continued, "absolutely need to learn what I am going to teach you. For your own safety, and for the safety of others. I hope that you will remember that, and not allow them to distract you from what you¡¯re here to do."


    "I won¡¯t, sir," she promised. "About the sheriff-"


    "You let me deal with the sheriff," Master Grenfell told her. "Now go on down to the kitchens. As you said, your duties are waiting for you."

 8. A Promise

    Liv used her crutch to swing herself out the door and into the hall, leaving the mage behind in the Room of Curiosities. She couldn¡¯t stop wondering about the sheriff all the way down the servants¡¯ stairs, but once she was in the kitchen she didn¡¯t have time to worry about it anymore.


    Gretta and her mother had already prepared the midday meal for the great hall, and Archibald and the remaining footman, Tom, were upstairs serving. That meant the two women were on to making food for the servants, and that the scullery was quickly filling up with pots, pans, and cooking implements of every kind dirtied by meal preparation. On a normal day, Liv would have been cleaning as they went, but now she was behind and spent the next bell desperately trying to catch up. She only set her work aside when Gretta came in to get her.


    "Come to the table before your food gets cold, Liv," the old woman told her. "This will all still be here after you¡¯ve had a bite."


    "Are you sure it¡¯s alright?" Liv asked. "I won¡¯t be in any trouble?"


    "None, dear," Gretta assured her. "Nowe wash all that gunk off your hands before you sit down." There was a bowl of beet stew waiting for her, stuffed full of garlic, celery, onions and carrots, as well as two slices from a fresh loaf of brown bread, and watered wine to drink. Liv was grateful that no one spoke to her until she was using a scrap of bread to sop up thest of the broth from her bowl.


    "How did you find your lessons?" Archibald asked her. He¡¯d long since finished his own meal, and was sipping the dregs of his wine.


    Liv didn¡¯t want to tell anyone how horrible the two older girls had been; there was nothing any of them could do, anyway, and she didn¡¯t want to seem like she was whining. "I started to learn about grammar," she said. That seemed safe enough. "And how to breathe properly. And then we went to look at the stone-bat, and Master Grenfell told us about why it has those things poking out of its body - like the casque on its head. Have you ever seen it?" she asked, looking around the table. That had been worth holding her tongue through everything Mirabel and Griselda did.


    Gretta, and Sophie all shook their heads, but First Footman Archibald did not. "I have, in fact," he said. "As has Tom. The footmen are entrusted with airing the room out and keeping it in order. Or at least," he said, "we were. We shall have to see whether anything changes afterst evening¡¯s unpleasantness. But I believe we are all d to hear that you are doing well."


    "Thank you," Liv said. For a moment, she almost asked about the sheriff, but she didn¡¯t want to make it anyone else¡¯s problem. In the past day she¡¯d already caused enough trouble for an entire year. She stood, and lifted her own bowl and cup, tucking them under one arm so that she could use her crutch. "I have a lot of work to do in the scullery," she said. "If you¡¯ll excuse me." Archibald nodded, and Liv made her escape.


    For as hard as she had to work in the scullery, it was also a ce that was safe and familiar. Other than to drop off dirty dishes, no one came in to bother her. Liv scrubbed her way through everything dirtied not only by the morning¡¯s cooking, but also the midday meal both upstairs and down. On a normal day, she would have time to herself between the second bell of the afternoon and the third, but she was so far behind that she had to keep right on working. Liv only stopped when Tom knocked on the door.


    "Someone¡¯s here to see you, Livy," he said, then turned to walk away. He had his own duties to attend to, she knew.


    Carefully, Liv set aside the wine goblet she¡¯d been cleaning, rinsed her hands, and reached for her crutch. Surely he would have said ¡¯the sheriff is here for you,¡¯ wouldn¡¯t he, instead of just someone? If it wasn¡¯t the sheriff, though, who else could it be?


    There was a door directly out of the kitchen to the courtyard, so that Mama or Gretta could receive deliveries, or for Tom, Sophie or Liv to take out rubbish. Liv put her hand on the door, but couldn¡¯t bring herself to open it for a long moment. She couldn¡¯t breathe, and had to close her eyes. The sheriff wouldn¡¯te around to the kitchen door, anyway, she knew. She was being silly. Taking a deep breath, Liv opened the door, and blinked at the cold winter wind that immediately struck her in the face.


    The man waiting outside had a great beard and mustaches in which snow and ice had already umted, and a heavy, hooded cloak of dark wool. Thick fur lining peaked out from beneath the hood, or whenever the cloak billowed in the wind. His boots were of good leather, as well, and he even wore gloves, which Mama had never quite been able to justify spending silver suns to get. Rather than the man, however, Liv couldn¡¯t help but look down at the massive buck resting on the ground at his feet.


    "You are Liv Brodbeck?" the man asked her, his voice rough as if he didn¡¯t use it often.


    "Yes, sir," Liv said, doing her best to curtsy despite her crutch.


    "This is for you, then," the bearded man said. "I¡¯ve drained it and gutted it already."


    Liv blinked, looked down at the deer, then back up at the man. She opened her mouth once, closed it again, and then finally managed to ask, "Who are you, sir?"


    "Kale Forester," the man answered. "You saved my little girl, yesterday. Emma. Thank you."


    "Oh!" Liv exhaled. Not the sheriff. Despite everything she¡¯d told herself, only now could she actually rx. "She¡¯s alright, then? I can hardly remember what happened, but I was very frightened for her."


    "She is now," Forester assured her. "Because of what you did. I should have been watching her more closely," he admitted. "If you hadn¡¯t seen her go under - I can¡¯t even think about it." The man coughed into his glove, clearing his throat. "So. This is for you. You can do what you like with it - sell the meat, cook it."


    "Thank you, sir," Liv said. The carcass was massive, with two sets of antlersing off the head that reminded her of the stone-bat¡¯s casque. Instead of a small ¡¯v¡¯ shape, however, the antlers branched out again and again, finally ending in a spread of at least ten points between the entire rack. "You didn¡¯t have to, you know?" Liv continued. "I just did what anyone would have. I only happened to be watching her skate, because Mama was talking to someone."


    "A man pays his debts," the hunter said. "You saved my daughter¡¯s life, Miss Brodbeck. And that is a debt that I can never repay. This isn¡¯t much, but please - ept it as a gift."


    "Of course she will," Mama said,ing up behind her. Liv leaned back into her mother with relief; now that Mama was here, she wouldn¡¯t have to talk. "Thank you, Master Forester."


    "No master here," the man said, smiling beneath his mustaches. "Just a man trying to do right. You¡¯re the girl¡¯s mother?"


    "Margaret Brodbeck, yes."


    "I¡¯ll trust you to see to this, then," Forester said. "Unless - little girl. Liv. You like ice skating?"


    "I¡¯ve never tried," Liv admitted. "But I would like to, someday." If her mother ever allowed it.


    "Let me take the horns, then," the hunter said, after considering a moment. "I will make you skates from them, like my daughter¡¯s. Would you like that?"


    Before her mother could say no, Liv grinned and nodded her head. "I would! Thank you, Master Forester."


    "More excited about the skates than the meat," the man said, drawing a hunting knife from his belt. "I should have expected that. I¡¯ll have these off in a moment. Where do you want the carcass, Mistress Brodbeck?"


    "Only ¡¯miss," Mama corrected him. "I¡¯ve no husband. Bring it along inside, we¡¯ll put it in the cold cer. Gretta and I will cut up some good venison steaks, Liv, how does that sound for a special dinner? Run along back to your work, now."


    By the time the antlers had been removed, the buck put into storage, and the woodsman gone, Liv was just finishing up the midday dishes. She thought it just as well that Master Forester left without speaking any further, because Liv didn¡¯t know what to say to him in any event. She¡¯d never had an adult thank her, truly thank her, for something so important before. She was looking forward to the skates, however, and wondered how long it would take before they were done.


    The rest of the day settled back into the routine that had made up Liv¡¯s life for as long as she could remember. Once she was caught up in the scullery, she helped Mama and Gretta in the kitchen. They¡¯d cut beautiful steaks from the buck, and Liv was immediately set to mincing garlic and rosemary. Once she was done with that, she was sent to haul jars of ckberry preserves, gathered from the mountain slopes, up from the cold cer.


    "Stir this, my dove," Mama told her when she¡¯d finished. Liv took the handle of a wooden spoon from her mother, and kept the onions in the buttered skillet from burning. Once they were done, she held a tter while Gretta scooped the onions out, and then sat down to watch the two women begin searing the steaks in the same pan.


    With the smells of cooking filling the kitchen, and the hearth warming the room, Liv set her crutch aside and simply watched for a few moments. Despite everything that had happened, and her lingering worries about the sheriff, for a little while everything felt safe, warm and familiar.


    At dinner, everyone praised the venison; when Archibald and Tom came downstairs from serving, they brought thepliments of Baron Henry and his wife. "Lady Julianne, in particr, wanted to pass her thanks along," the first footman told Liv. "She wanted you to know that she appreciates you sharing your gift with the entire household."


    Liv felt her face get hot, so she looked down at her trencher and sliced off a piece of venison so tender she felt like it was melting on her tongue.


    "I don¡¯t know what else she was going to do with it," Sophie groused. "It¡¯s not as if she could butcher it, cook it and eat it all herself."


    "That will be enough, Sophie," the first footman said.


    By the time Liv was finished cleaning all of the evening¡¯s dishes, she was more than ready to curl up in a nest of nkets. When she made her way to the room that she shared with her mother, however, she found half the clothes that had been stored there gone, and Mama waiting for her, seated on the bed.


    "Come and have a seat, dove," her mother said, patting the bed next to her. Liv used the crutch to make her way over, set it down on the floor, and then plopped herself down.


    "Where are all your things?" Liv asked. She found Rosie, pulled the rag doll to her chest and gave it a hug. "And where did you gost night?"


    "I slept in one of the empty rooms," Mama said. "Gretta helped me find clean linens and make the bed. And I had Tom help me move my things over tonight while you were cleaning the dishes."


    "Why?" Liv asked. "I woke up all alone."


    "Is that why you poked your head out when you heard someone in the hall?" her mother asked, and Liv nodded her head. "See, I know you, my love. I slept in another bed because I wanted you to have room to stretch out your leg," she exined. "Without anything bumping that stered up ankle. But this has beening for a while, dove."


    Liv shook her head. "It was cold. You shoulde back tonight."


    "You have plenty of nkets and furs, and look," Mama said. "Herees Charlie." The ck mouser crossed half the room, then paused to stretch before leaping up onto the bed.


    "I don¡¯t want to sleep alone," Liv said.


    "I know, love," Mama said. "But it¡¯s time for you to have your own room. You¡¯re going to need more room, once you start having books that you need to read, or - I don¡¯t even know what. Magic rocks, and what have you. Skates, in a few days." She gently nudged Liv with her elbow.


    "The other girls in the ss aren¡¯t very nice," Liv said.


    "No, I expect they wouldn¡¯t be," her mother agreed. "People like them don¡¯t want to mix with people like us, and they get upset when they have to."


    "The baron¡¯s wife was nice, though," Liv pointed out. "She wasn¡¯t mean." She hesitated: past experience had taught her that asking this question was not going to make her mother happy. But she had to know. "Lady Julianne said my father gave me my magic."


    Mama stiffened against her body. "Yes," she said, after a long silence. "I expect that is true. It certainly didn¡¯te from me. My parents had no noble blood, nor theirs, as far back as they ever told me about. But your father did. He had hair like yours, too - and your eyes. He was beautiful, like you."


    "Will you tell me about him?" Already, this was more than Liv had ever heard from her mother before. She expected the answer to be no.


    "He had a wonderful voice," Mama said. "That¡¯s how we met, actually. He was exploring the gardens, and he heard me singing. I never thought I was a great beauty, dove, but I was young then. I suppose I was pretty enough. And he was sad. Very sad."


    "Why was he sad?" Liv asked.


    "Because his sister had died," Mama said. "It was the reason his father sent him south. To distract him. I am certain he was not supposed to find a human woman to sing with him and give him a big hug when he needed it." She reached over and wrapped her arms around Liv and gave a squeeze. "Like this."


    Her father had been sad, and needed a hug. Liv felt closer to him than she¡¯d ever felt before. "So he loved you?" she asked. "Did he love me?"


    "He never knew about you," her mother said. "He¡¯d left by the time I knew, and they went back north a different way. But if he knew about you, I believe he would love you, yes."


    "Can we tell him?" Liv thought about it. "We could write him a letter."


    "No," her mother said, and shook her head. "I¡¯m telling you these things now because I think you¡¯re old enough to know at least some of the truth. You know - do you understand, my dove, that other girls are bigger than you at this age? You don¡¯t look twelve."


    "You said I¡¯ve always been small," Live said, and shrugged.


    "The Eld of the North live longer than humans do," Mama exined. "I didn¡¯t understand at first - I thought your father was about the same age as I was. He looked young. When he told me he was over a hundred years old, I didn¡¯t believe him at first. And then when you were born, you could almost be human. Just the tips of your ears, and your hair."


    Liv squeezed Rosie hard and closed her eyes.


    "It took longer for you to grow," Mama said. "For you to do most things. But you were always so smart, my dove. I don¡¯t want you to ever feel badly about it. There isn¡¯t anything wrong with you - you¡¯re just different. It¡¯s your father¡¯s blood in you. You¡¯ll get where they all are, it¡¯s just going to take a little more time."


    "Does that mean I¡¯m going to live forever?" Liv asked.


    "I don¡¯t think anyone lives forever," Mama said, with augh. "Or your aunt wouldn¡¯t have died. But I do think you¡¯re going to live for a very long time. And when you¡¯re old enough, I¡¯ll tell you more about your father. I¡¯ll tell you his name, and where he lives, and maybe you can even go and find him. How does that sound?"


    "I like it here with you," Liv said. What would it even be like, to cross the mountains and go that far north? Would her father even want her? She might be too human.


    "That¡¯s good, my love," her mother said. "Because you need to stay for a while yet. You have a bit of growing to do, and you¡¯re best doing it in your own room, from now on. But I will tell you one thing tonight," she said. "Like a promise, so you know that I¡¯ll tell you the rest one day."


    "What¡¯s that?" Liv asked.


    Her mother stood, and pulled back the nkets and furs. Liv crawled inside. With Rosie hugged to her chest, and Charlie curled up purring at her side, she thought that it might not be so bad to sleep alone.


    "Your name," her mother said. "I named you for your aunt, my dove. The one who died. Livara. So that one day, when you find your father and tell him your name, he¡¯ll know who you are, and that you¡¯re telling the truth. Now go to sleep."


    Livara. She rolled the name around in her mind, and tasted it, as she snuggled up against her pillow. For her entire life, she¡¯d just been Liv Brodbeck, the cook¡¯s bastard daughter. To think of herself as Livara, descended from the Eld of the North, was like something out of one of Gretta¡¯s bedtime stories.


    When she dreamed, Livara dreamed of and over the mountains, where no human walked and everyone knew her name.

 9. Jurian of Carinthia

    The sheriff didn¡¯te for Liv for another three days.


    Over that time, she was surprised how quickly she settled into her new routine. Having to use a crutch slowed her down, but Liv always made certain to give herself enough time to get to Master Grenfell¡¯s chamber before the ninth bell of the day. If that meant she had to roll straight out of her bed instead of cuddling for a moment longer in the warm nkets, well then, at least sleeping alone made it easier. While the ck mouser, Charlie, never failed toe in while she went to sleep, the dark silent hours of the night were his hunting times, and he was always gone by the time she roused in the morning.


    If it hadn¡¯t been for Mirabel and Giselda, in fact, Liv would have said that she was having the best time of her life, in spite of the broken ankle. The master mage worked her hard, but she was used to that, and the kind of work he had her doing was mind-work, not body-work. She was best able to put it into words when speaking with Gretta, a potato peeler in her hand.


    "Everything I do in the scullery and the kitchen," Liv said, turning the potato with expert fingers, "doesn¡¯t really take much thinking. It would be different if I was making an entire recipe myself, but I¡¯m just doing dishes and setting tables and chopping things. You don¡¯t really have to think about any of that. Well, now I can think about what I learned in ss while I scrub. And when I go upstairs, I¡¯m using my head, but I can rest my feet and my back and my hands. So instead of working my body all day, I get to switch off."


    "As long as you pay attention when you¡¯re using a knife," Gretta grumbled, and Livughed, reaching for the next potato.


    She had two books lent to her by Master Grenfell in her room, now, and was expected to be reading them during her limited free time. The more exciting of the two was an earlier edition of ckwood¡¯s Bestiary that was dog-eared from use and older than she was.


    "You will need to take your own notes inside during ss," the mage had told her when he delivered it to the kitchen door. "The newer edition will not only have more information, but corrects inuracies based on the most current research. I suggest keeping a quill and ink bottle to hand whenever you have the thing open."


    "You want me to write inside a book?" Liv asked. "Isn¡¯t that against thew? Like destroying a merchant¡¯s goods at the market?"


    "If it was not yours, it might be," Grenfell said. "But as I am giving it to you, Liv, you may do whatever you like with it. I wish I could spare the current edition, but this will have to do until you can purchase your own."


    "I can¡¯t take it," Liv protested. "Books are expensive. There¡¯s no way I could pay you for this."


    "Yes, it would be about a month of your mother¡¯s wages, I should think," the mage agreed. "Which is why I am giving it to you as a gift. In truth, Miss Brodbeck, you are doing me a favor. I have no use for an old edition, and I need to clear out shelf space. If you don¡¯t take it off my hands, I fear I shall simply have to throw it in the firece."


    "I¡¯ll keep it then." Liv clutched the book to her chest. "Thank you."


    "No, thank you," Grenfell insisted. "It will be a lot of work for you to make something useful of it, and I expect your fingers will be quite sore from the writing. Now, this one is not a gift. I expect it back, and in good condition, or I shall be very cross with you." He handed her a slimmer volume, and Liv looked over the title.


    "An Introduction to the Principles of Grammar," she read aloud. "By Caspian Loredan."


    "Archmagus Loredan," Master Grenfell corrected her. "You are years behind the other girls. You will need to study this to have any hope of catching up to them."


    "I will," Liv promised. At night, her head swam with irregr verbs, cases, and the past perfect tense. During ss, she diagrammed sentences and conjugated verbs, when she wasn¡¯t doing her best to shrug off the constant digs from Mirabel and Griselda. Either the work they were given was something the older girls had long since mastered, or Master Grenfell was correct and they truly didn¡¯t care about what they were learning, because they never seemed to be short of time to spend on tormenting her.


    When the master mage asked them all to write sentences and then swap for more diagramming practice, Griselda passed her a te that read: ¡¯Your clothes are as dirty as your hands. Wear something other than rags." When Liv had her quill and ink out to make notes in the bestiary Master Grenfell had given her, Mirabel walked by and hit the desk with her hip, spilling ck ink all over Liv¡¯s apron and skirts. If she hadn¡¯t been so quick to snatch the old book up, it would have been ruined, as well.


    "Oh, I¡¯m so clumsy!" Mirabel eximed. "I apologize, Master Grenfell." Then she turned back to Liv and smirked.


    That night, scrubbing her ink-stained clothes with lye in the washbasin, Liv would rather have been rubbing Mirabel¡¯s face against the washboard. She could scrape off all of those fancy paints on her cheeks and around her eyes.


    "I¡¯m sure you know this already," her mother told her, leaning against the door frame. "But we can¡¯t afford to be buying you new skirts and aprons all of the time."


    "I know, Mama," Liv said, gritting her teeth. No matter how hard she scrubbed, there was still a faded stain left behind. She raised up on her heels to really get her shoulder into the work, but her mother came over and stopped her.


    "Let me do that." Her mother reached into the soapy water to take the cloth and board away. "You know you can¡¯t push so hard. You¡¯ll break a finger."


    It was so frustrating that, by the fourth day of attending sses, Liv was spending as much time watching Mirabel and Griselda for signs of an impending attack as she was paying attention to Master Grenfell. In spite of that, it would have been difficult not to notice First Footman Archibald entering the chamber, leaning in to say something to the mage at his lectern, and then leaving again.


    "Miss Brodbeck," Grenfell said. "Please remain after the ss is finished. You have been excused from your afternoon duties."


    Over at their two desks, the two other girls were grinning as they stared at her. "The sheriff ising to see you," Mirabel whispered, softly enough that it wouldn¡¯t be heard at the front of the room. Liv ignored her and went back to studying a miner¡¯s ount of a massive cave centipede from just prior to thest eruption of the Bald Peak rift. The listing of the centipede in her old copy of the bestiary did not mention anything about how the chitinous covering of the species was gradually infused with mana over time, bing as hard as steel armor. Carefully, Liv added her notes, but her handwriting was even worse than usual from how badly her hands trembled.


    When they¡¯d finished their breathing exercises, singing was a disaster. Though Liv had sung the hymn to Tamiris every market day morning for as long as she could remember, her voice cracked and broke on the notes. Finally, Master Grenfell called an end with the ringing of the twelfth bell. Liv would normally have waited for the other two girls to get up and leave the room first, before rushing over to the servants¡¯ stair on her crutch, but today she simply gathered her two books under one arm and waited.


    "We are going down to the great hall," the mage told her, once the door had swung shut, leaving them alone. "I know that you are not ustomed to it, but we will go by the grand staircase, together."


    A roaring in her ears made it difficult to hear what he was saying, and when Liv stood, she had to stop and close her eyes so that she didn¡¯t vomit on her desk. Master Grenfell must have seen how terrified she was, because he came over and took her arm. "All will be well," he said. "Come along, now."


    In the great hall, Baron Summerset was seated at the high table. Archibald waited just behind him and to the left, and the tables were set for the midday meal, but the rest of the room was empty.


    "As requested, my lord," Grenfell said, leading Liv up the center aisle to stand before the table. "Miss Brodbeck."


    "Thank you, Master Mage." Henry Summerset nodded. "Liv Brodbeck, the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers has lodged aint against you with the sheriff. In just a moment, I am going to call in their Mayor Cooper, who will be speaking as their representative, along with Sheriff Porter. You will speak only when I tell you to, is that understood?"


    "Yes, m¡¯lord," Liv said, clutching her books to her chest.


    "Give me those, child," Master Grenfell said, taking the books from her and setting them on a nearby table. "Baron, I once again ask this matter be set aside until the guild representative I have called arrives."


    "It is the middle of winter," Baron Summerset said. "No one will be getting through the high passes from the londs until the second month of Flood, at least. We will proceed today. Archibald, ask them toe in."


    "Yes, m¡¯lord," the first footman said, and slipped out from behind the table. He passed Liv without looking at her, and though she could not see behind her back, she heard the doors to the hall swing open, and the footsteps of the men who entered. They marched right past her, nearly up to the high table, and then offered bows to the baron.


    One of the men was clearly Mirabel¡¯s father - he had the same honey-blonde hair, though his was clipped short on the top and carefully groomed into whiskers that descended past his ears and along his jaw. His chin and mouth, however, were bare, and he was somewhat stout. The other man must have been the sheriff, though Liv had never had asion to see him in person before. Unlike the mayor, he wore a sword at his hip, and his head was shaved clean of any hair.


    "Mayor Cooper, Sheriff Porter," the baron began. "Thank you for joining us today. The girl, Liv Brodbeck, who is employed as a scullion in my kitchens, is here before you. Am I to understand that you are here, Mayor Cooper, to speak on behalf of the Drovers¡¯ guild?"


    "That is correct, Baron Summerset," Mirabel¡¯s father said, turning to point at Liv with a stabbing finger. "This girl has used magic proprietary to the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers, in full and knowing vition of thews governing guild secrets. As the head of the Mason¡¯s Guild here in Whitehill, where they do not maintain a hall, I have agreed to represent them."


    "Very well," Summerset said. "As representative of the crown, in the name of Rnd the Third, King of Lucania, I am prepared to sit in arbitration on this matter. Does the Drovers¡¯ guild ept my arbitration?"


    "I have been instructed to tell you that they do," Mayor Cooper said.


    The baron turned to Liv. "As the used party in this grievance, do you ept my arbitration?" he asked her.


    Liv looked up to where Master Grenfell stood by her side.


    "The mage guild epts your arbitration in this matter," her teacher said.


    "That girl is not a member of the mage¡¯s guild!" Mayor Cooper objected. "As such, Master Grenfell, you have no right to speak on her behalf."


    "Miss Brodbeck is my student," Grenfell argued back, though he did not meet the mayor¡¯s eyes and Liv could see his hand trembling. His voice never rose above the volume he used during his sses, and once again she could hear a quaver in his words. "As my student, she is an aspirant to the College of V?dic Grammar at Coral Bay."


    "Students at the college are not required to choose whether to join the guild or not until the end of their first year," Cooper shot back. "And she has not even begun her first. Look at her, the girl can¡¯t be more than seven or eight years old."


    "Which begs the question," Lady Julianne said, her voice filling the chamber as she strode in and up the aisle, "why anyone would be so cruel as to force a young girl into this situation. I am ashamed of you, Alban Cooper. Don¡¯t you have a daughter of your own?" Her swollen belly did not impede her in the slightest as she swept past the men and took a seat next to her husband at the high table.


    "My daughter," the mayor said, "would never vite thew. My Lady."


    "This girl," Julianne said, "saved someone¡¯s life. She used magic entirely out of instinct, which nearly killed her. She has not used the Drovers¡¯ Guild¡¯s proprietary enchantments topete with them, she has not sold anything. I don¡¯t see what possible damages you can prove. To be entirely honest, you should be celebrating what she did."


    "If she had not broken thew, we would be doing so, I am sure," Cooper said. "Back to the point. We do not ept the right of the mage¡¯s guild to speak on her behalf. Master Grenfell, as respected as he is, even as a valued member of thismunity, has no right to be present during this arbitration."


    Listening to the adults argue past her, their voices louder by the moment, Liv hunched her shoulders and kept her head down. "I didn¡¯t mean to break anyws," she said. "I was just trying to help."


    "Ignorance of thew is no excuse," Sheriff Porter said, speaking for the first time. There was amotion at the door to the hall, but Liv couldn¡¯t hear what was happening. Another set of footsteps came up behind her, and Archibald approached the high table again.


    "My lord," he broke in," a representative from the mage guild has arrived."


    "Bring him in," Summerset said, with a motion of his hand.


    "How could someone possibly havee from Coral Bay in three days?" Mayor Cooper demanded, as Archibald rushed by him and back down the aisle.


    "I came by the waystone at Bald Peak," a new voice broke in, from the doorway behind Liv. She did not dare turn to look, but the thump of boots on stone, apanied by the ring of a walking stick or cane, stopped just next to her on the right, opposite where Master Grenfell was standing. Liv didn¡¯t know whether to beforted or frightened that there was a mage on either side of her.


    The newly arrived mage was much younger than her teacher, she saw when she snuck a nce at him. He was bundled in a long dark coat, still brushed with snow, and riding boots that came to his thigh, and in his right hand he held not a cane, but a staff of wood nearly as long as he was tall, with sigils iid into the wood using glittering gold and silver. He did not wear a beard, but his face was shadowed as if he had not shaved in some days - which would make a good deal of sense, Liv realized, if he had been travelling. A trail of melted snow wet the stone floor in the mage¡¯s wake, and he pulled off a set of leather gloves lined in fur. Liv caught sight of a silver ring with a familiar, glowing stone set in it, on his right hand.


    "That waystone has been dead for generations," Mayor Cooper scoffed.


    "Your waystone mayck power to send," the man next to Liv responded. "But not to receive. In any event, I am more than capable of powering passage for a single person without any aid."


    "Your name, sir?" Baron Summerset broke in.


    "Magis Jurian of Carinthia," the young man answered. "I currently serve as a recruiter for the College."


    "You are wee, Magis Jurian," Summerset said. "Your colleague informed us you wereing, but we did not expect you prior to the thaw."


    "Lucky that I came so quickly, then," Jurian said. "My Lord, I request a recess to speak with my guildsman and with the girl."


    "Reasonable," the baron said. "And it will give us all time for a midday meal. Gentlemen, we will resume this arbitration at the second bell. Until then, Mayor Cooper, Sheriff Porter, perhaps you would join my wife and me at the high table."


    "Where can we speak in private?" Jurian asked Master Grenfell, lowering his voice.


    "My chambers," Grenfell said. "Thank you foring."


    "As if the guild would let something like this slip away from us," Jurian said, shaking his head. "You are Liv Brodbeck, are you not?" he asked, turning his attention to her. An anger she did not expect simmered behind his eyes.


    "I am, sir," Liv said. "Are you here to help? I promise I didn¡¯t intend to do anything wrong."


    "I¡¯m certain you didn¡¯t," Jurian said. "And yes, I am here to protect you. Come along now; we have a great deal to speak about, and little enough time. You have my oath, child, that nothing will happen to you. I won¡¯t allow it."

 10. Master and Apprentice

    Liv had to endure Sophie¡¯s scowl as the maid set the third trencher of beef and bacon pie down. She had her back to Master Grenfell and Magis Jurian, who she¡¯d served first, and so the two mages didn¡¯t catch it.


    "Thank you, Sophie," Grenfell said from where he was sitting in one of the three chairs kept in his chambers for sses. He and Jurian had dragged the chairs and desks around to form a rough triangle with the one Liv sat in, which was the same ce she upied everyday. "That will be all."


    Bristling with resentment, the maid stalked back across the chamber to the door and shut it behind her. Liv tried to rx and enjoy the meal, but she couldn¡¯t drag her mind away from the men waiting for her downstairs.


    "This is very good pie," Jurian remarked, taking a gulp of watered wine in between bites. "Are these raisins and prunes inside?"


    "I believe so," Grenfell responded. "Miss Brodbeck would know - her mother is the cook."


    "Yes," Liv said, putting her fork down. She couldn¡¯t even stand the thought of food right now. "What do they want from me?" she asked. "To have the sheriff lock me up? To take my hand for stealing?"


    "No," Jurian answered. "None of that gets them anything. They want to frighten you enough that you sign your word of power away to them, Liv." He paused for a moment. "Is that short for anything? I do my best not to use nicknames with people I have just met."


    "Livara," she said, before she could think better of it. "But no one knows that. Just you two, and my mother and I."


    "Best to stick with what everyone knows, then," the visiting mage remarked, though his eyes lingered on Liv¡¯s face until she had to look down at her soup to avoid his gaze. "More to speak ofter, I suppose. Let us focus on what you need to know before the second bell."


    "First," Jurian continued, taking another bite and talking while he ate, "I have checked all relevant records, Kazamir, as per your request. I can confirm that our young friend¡¯s word of power is not registered to any noble house of the kingdom. It is, however, licensed for limited and very specific use by the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers, which is the source of this trouble. Miss Brodbeck, did you use your magic to store or preserve meat for shipping?"


    "No?" Liv shook her head.


    "Your table manners are atrocious," Master Grenfell remarked to his colleague, but Jurian dismissed him.


    "Ites of spending most of my time in rifts for the past few years," he said. "Did you use your magic to install cold storage in the castle, or any other structure, in return forpensation?" Jurian asked Liv.


    "No, we just have the cold cer beneath the kitchen," Liv answered more confidently. "And there¡¯s nothing magic about it. No more than the hot springs."


    "Very good. So to begin with, they really have no im for damages orpensation," Jurian said. "Because their license to use that magic is very, very specific. And that is precisely why they areing after you so hard, Liv, and why they don¡¯t want us in the room. They¡¯re going to ask for gold. A lot of gold - more than you or your mother could ever pay them. And then, they¡¯re going to offer to waive that fine in return for you signing full rights to that word of power over to them."


    "Which means they are no longer limited by their current agreement," Grenfell concluded, nodding his head. "I see. But if they did not license the magic from one of our noble houses, where did they get it from? Lendh ka Dakruim?"


    "No," Jurian said, shaking his head and taking a drink of wine. "They licensed it from the Eld of the North."


    Your magic, the baron¡¯s wife had told Liv. Whatever else youck, your father gave you that. "Do you know the name of the person they got the magic from?" Liv asked Magis Jurian. She¡¯d been trying her best to follow the dizzying pace of legal exnations, but she knew very little about how the guilds worked. This one piece, though, was very important to her.


    "I do." Jurian nodded. "I am not certain that I should tell you at this time, however."


    "It is likely toe up downstairs," Grenfell pointed out.


    "And yet, if this youngdy has not been told by her mother," Jurian mused, "It is hardly my ce to be the one to say it. I cannot control what other people may do, but I can control what I do. I¡¯ll tell you what, Liv," he offered. "After this whole thing is over, I will speak with your mother, and we will go from there. As Master Grenfell says, I may be forced to use this anyway, but I would prefer not to say it out loud if we can avoid it. The first thing we need to do, in any event, is to establish beyond doubt that I am legally able to speak in your defense."


    "To that end," Jurian said, setting aside his fork. "I have a question for you. Miss Brodbeck, I would like to take you as my apprentice. If you ept this offer, you will legally be a member of the mage¡¯s guild, and I, as your master, will be legally responsible for you." He slipped his silver ring off his finger, and offered it to Liv. "What is your answer?"


    Liv stared at the ring. It would be easy to lose herself in the shifting whirls of blue and gold hidden just below the surface of the gray stone set in silver. "If I said yes," she asked. "what would happen? Would you stay here? Would I have to go away with you?"


    "No, and no," Jurian said. He did not withdraw the ring. "I am currently serving as a recruiter for the College of V?dic Grammar in Coral Bay. I do not have the means to provide a proper education to an apprentice while I drag you around from ce to ce, especially not while you¡¯re using a crutch. I would leave you here with Kazamir, until you are full grown."


    Liv bit her lip. "Then why would I not be Master Grenfell¡¯s apprentice? Won¡¯t he be the one teaching me?"


    "I will have to teach you a little bit of something," Jurian conceded, "before I leave. Best if it¡¯s before we go back downstairs, in fact, so that you can testify your lessons have already begun when they challenge this. And Kazamir will do well teaching you the basics. But my name will give you a certain amount of protection."


    Master Grenfell sighed. "That is true enough. My colleague here is substantially younger than I am, Liv, but he does have something that I am embarrassed to admit I have alwayscked."


    "What?" Liv asked.


    "A certain recklessness and disregard for danger to his own life," Grenfell said.


    "I would call it courage." Jurian grinned. "Don¡¯t look so upset, old man. If you had it, you would have pushed a lot further than you have. It¡¯s not the worst thing in the world; you¡¯re a lot less likely to die in some forgotten rift."


    "Regardless," Master Grenfell continued, rolling his eyes. "There is a certain amount of protection in having a master who has delved Godsgrave. And that reputation is not something I bring with me, child. He can be your shield in a way that I cannot."


    "But I don¡¯t even know you," Liv said, forcing herself to meet Jurian¡¯s eyes. "Why would you do so much to help me?"


    "Two reasons," Jurian told her. "And I will bepletely honest. The first is that I want you to bring that word you used to the mage guild. It would be wasted on merchants," he said, with a scowl. "All they care about is coin. They can cut their costs by no longer paying the Eld for their license, if they get you. But our work is far greater, and far more important. Do you know what the mage guild does, Liv?"


    "You use magic," Liv said. "And teach it. And cull rifts."


    "That¡¯s right," Jurian confirmed. "It is our obligation, in return for a royal charter. Any member of the guild may be called on to cull a rift, and we have to ept. And that is of far greater importance than the profit margins of the Drovers¡¯ Guild. If that rift under Bald Peak were left to grow, it would overrun this entire town. No one here would survive. That is what we do, Liv. We go wherever is needed. When the local noble can¡¯t handle an eruption, we are there. If the Eld need help, we cross the mountains. Over the sea, in Varuna, there are things you can¡¯t even dream of - rifts left to fester for a thousand years, boiling with the power of the old gods. We are the only ones willing to fight the battles that need to be fought. Your word would give us another weapon in our arsenal. It would save lives - not just the lives of the guild, but innocent people who¡¯ve never had to lift a sword."


    "And that is the other reason I want you as an apprentice," Jurian said. "No one starts like you did. Spontaneous, uncontrolled magic? That simply does not happen. Everyone is taught, everyone takes months or years of practice before casting a spell. This talent you have? You owe it to the world to use it. Before some pampered Baron¡¯s son puts a ring on your finger and makes you raise a brood of his brats, I want you to see what is really out there. Because we don¡¯t just need your word, we need you. I need you to grow into what I think you can be." He shifted his hand, holding the ring up nearly in her face. "What is your answer, Livara?"


    Liv reached her hand up, then hesitated. "I take this, and that¡¯s it? I¡¯m a member of the guild? For life?"


    Jurian shook his head. "No. You are a child, and that wouldn¡¯t be fair. Those who attend the college must choose by the end of their first year, to join the guild, or not. I will record this as a provisional membership. After a year at the college, you will either confirm your membership, or leave. If you leave, I will ensure there is no penalty."


    Liv shook her head. "I can¡¯t go there," she said. "We don¡¯t even have the coin to pay Master Grenfell. Gretta is helping us."


    "I hereby waive your fee," Jurian said. "As recruiter for the college. I will log it in our records as soon as I leave here and return to Coral Bay. You will attend, Liv. When you are- how old are you now?" he asked.


    "Twelve." Liv answered.


    "Her blood," Grenfell murmured to his colleague. "The Eld."


    "She is half?" Jurian asked.


    "My father," Liv said. "He was - is - one of the Eld."


    "Call it thirty six, then," Jurian said, with a great sigh. "So long. In twenty-four years, Liv, you will be expected in Coral Bay."


    Could she really leave the castle? Liv thought about Mama, and Gretta, and Charlie the mouser who slept in her bed at night, and even Mean Archie. But if she did go, she would learn magic. Real magic, high magic, not just the charms of the kitchen. The word stirred at the back of her mind, and she could tell it wanted to get out, like a child who had been cooped up to long. She took a deep breath and held it, like Master Grenfell had been teaching her. The word settled, and went back to its slumber. Maybe she needed to go, so that it wouldn¡¯t get out by ident.


    "I¡¯ll do it," Liv said. "I¡¯ll go." Gently, she took the ring from Master Jurian, and turned it over in her hand to look at it. It was too big even for her thumb.


    "Put it on," Jurian said, with a very faint smile. Liv slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand, and gasped when the ring shrank until it fit her perfectly. It was warm against her skin, and the stone tingled there so that she could not forget it was touching her.


    "Excellent. Now, Apprentice Brodbeck, I am going to teach you something," Jurian said. "Give me your books. Good, you have a quill and ink here, as well." He uncorked the bottle of ink.


    "Use the bestiary," Grenfell said, moving aside the grammar primer. Master Jurian flipped the book open, finding the nk page at the beginning, and dipped his pen in ink before setting it to the paper. Liv leaned forward, watching him write in an elegant hand.


    "That¡¯s it!" she said, recognizing her word. "But - the rest¡­"


    Master Jurian blew on the ink, then flipped the book around so that she could read what he had written there:


    Celet¡¯co Scelis¡¯o¡¯Mae


    "It¡¯s different," Liv said.


    "I¡¯ve conjugated the verb," Jurian exined. "Among other things." He stood, lifted his staff from where he¡¯d leaned it against the wall, and walked across the room, where he braced the staff in front of him. "Master Grenfell has taught you how to breathe, hasn¡¯t he?"


    "This is another example of that rash behavior we mentioned before," Grenfell said, standing up and backing toward a different wall to clear space. "She isn¡¯t ready, Jurian."


    "Given what she¡¯s already done, I would say that she is. Take a deep breath, and sing the words I wrote," Jurian told Liv. "Then thrust your hand toward me, like you were throwing something."


    Liv looked back and forth between them both, then carefully stood, using her crutch to brace herself. She took one breath, then a second, to steady herself as much as anything else. The word was waking; she could feel it. Perhaps it could tell what wasing, like a cat scenting a meal.


    "Celet¡¯co Scelis¡¯o¡¯Mae!" It came out of her in a rush of cold, the world nearly whiting out at the edges of Liv¡¯s vision as if a winter storm had swept her up in snow. She thrust her right hand toward Master Jurian, and the word vibrated up from her belly, thrumming along Liv¡¯s entire body before it exploded outward.


    A shard of ice coalesced in front of her hand, then shot forward, directly at Jurian¡¯s heart. Liv shrieked in fear, desperately trying to call it back, but the mage shouted words of his own, and a globe of swirling blue and gold magic sprang into being around him, looking like nothing so much as a soap bubble in the wash basin. The de of ice hit the bubble and shattered, falling onto the carpetted floor of Master Grenfell¡¯s chamber in a glittering heap of broken ice and dust.


    Ovee by a sudden weariness, Liv sat back down into her chair and dropped her crutch to the ground. She lifted up her right hand, looked at her fingers, and then shivered. The hot pie in front of her suddenly looked very good, and she picked up her fork and began to shovel it into her mouth.


    "That should not have been her first spell," Master Grenfell objected. "You cannot even pretend that was safe."


    "Everyone looks to be in one piece," Jurian said, stepping around the pile of melting ice on the carpet and resuming his seat. "I would say it was a sessful lesson. And now she has a way to defend herself."


    "Twenty-four years to teach her sanity before sending her on to you is not enough time," Grenfell grumbled.


    "If youin too much, I won¡¯t teach you the word we found in Godsgrave," Jurian shot back, and it shut Master Grenfell up immediately.


    "What happens next?" Liv asked, her cheeks full of half-chewed meat pie.


    "Next," Jurian said, "we finish our wine. In just a little while, we are going to go downstairs, and send those merchants on their way. The sooner, the better, for we shall have very little time. I did not n oning here, and I have other ces to be. But I do have an obligation as your master, so I must see to it you will be well-cared for while you are here."


    "Will you teach me more magic?" Liv asked. She looked down at the words written in her book. "That wasn¡¯t anything like what I remember from the fair."


    "That is the difference between letting a word of powerpletely out of your control, and knowing how to use it appropriately," Jurian said. "Now pay attention, it isn¡¯t quite second bell yet. I¡¯ve never used your word, Liv. How did I write you an incantation that could do exactly what I wanted?"


    Liv looked between the writing in her bestiary, and her new master. Then, she reached for the grammar book that Master Grenfell had loaned her. She opened it, stuffing another bite of meat pie in her mouth while she found what she was looking for, and then flipped it around to show the two mages two pages of charts.


    "You said you conjugated the verb," she began. "I can see that." Liv put her finger on the righthand chart. "Active present - he, she or it. I recognize that ending. But I don¡¯t know the rest of the words."


    "Good," Jurian said, with a smile. "This is why the rules Master Grenfell is teaching you matter. If you understand the rules, you can make any word do what you want. If you make a mistake, you can kill yourself, or someone else. I know that what he is teaching you may seem like it is not exciting, but it is the foundation of everything that wille after. Learn the rules, and you learn magic. Learn magic, and those men downstairs will never be able to threaten you again."

 11. Judgement

    When Liv and the two mages returned to the great hall, the footmen were just clearing away thest of the midday meal. Liv ran her thumb over the polished piece of Aluthet¡¯Staia set into the ring on her finger; now that she was an apprentice, did that mean that three mages had walked into the hall? The thought made her smile, and she tried to walk a little straighter so that her master wouldn¡¯t think badly of her.


    "Excellent," Baron Summerset remarked, leaning back in his chair. "Let us resolve this matter. First - the question of whether the mage guild is legally capable of speaking on Miss Brodbeck¡¯s behalf. Master Grenfell, Magis Jurian, is Liv Brodbeck, or is she not, a member of your guild? Yes or no, please."


    "Yes," Master Jurian said, clearly. "With her consent, I have taken this girl as my apprentice." He ced his left hand on her shoulder.


    "This is nothing but a technicality," Mayor Cooper sputtered. "I object."


    "First of all," Jurian said, "neither the office of the mayor, nor any other guild, nor even Baron Summerset, has any authority over who the mages¡¯ guild chooses to ept or reject as a member. That is entirely an internal matter, as it is for every other guild in the kingdom. Certainly, the Hall of Bricyers and Masons would never permit interference in regting their own membership, would they Master Cooper?"


    The mayor¡¯s face flushed, and Lady Julianne turned to regard him evenly. "That is a fair question, Mayor. Would you?"


    "Of course not," Alban Cooper answered, gruffly. "But our apprentices are not taken on a whim, over a meal. They earn their positions with hard work, and are held to strict standards."


    "I also hold my apprentice to strict standards," Jurian agreed, with a smile. "Which is one of the reasons I saw fit to ept Apprentice Brodbeck. In fact, over a meal, she has learned to cast her first spell. I doubt many other apprentices in the kingdom could do the same."


    "Learning a spell is no quick process," the baron broke in. "When my father taught me to use our hereditary word of power, it took me months to master the incantations."


    "We are prepared to prove the im," Jurian said. "If it is in doubt."


    "Proceed," Baron Henry instructed.


    It took only a few moments for the castle guards to bring in a target from the armory, consisting of straw woven and bound into concentric circles, affixed to a tripod of wood to hold it about the height of a grown man¡¯s chest. The guards ced it just inside the door to the great hall, and Liv was told to stand alone at the foot of the high table, facing the target. At Mayor Cooper¡¯s insistence, to be certain there was no aid or interference, both Master Grenfell and Magis Jurian were forced to stand off to the side, leaving Liv to juggle her crutch and her open bestiary.


    It would have been much more convenient if she was confident in recalling the entire incantation, but no matter how much the word itself paced restlessly at the back of her mind, the rest of the phrase had not stuck in quite the same way. Liv supposed it made sense; some things were a great deal more difficult to scrub off a cast iron skillet than others, and it seemed foolish to assume words of power all behaved the same.


    "This is ridiculous," Mayor Cooper scoffed, as Liv struggled to hold the book open.


    "It isn¡¯t the girl¡¯s fault her ankle is broken," Lady Julianne shot back. "But I agree, this is ridiculous. Archibald, hold the book for her."


    "Me?" For the first time in Liv¡¯s entire life, the first footman lost hisposure in front of the family. "But it is magic, mdy," he protested.


    "It is perfectly safe," Magis Jurian called from the wall at the side of the hall, where he¡¯d been exiled for the moment. "Tell him, Kazimir."


    Master Grenfell flinched. "The danger is not extreme," he said. "I do not believe it likely you will be injured, First Footman."


    With a great huff of displeasure, Archibald descended from where he¡¯d been standing close to the high table, approached Liv, and took the book from her, holding it out as far distant from his body as he could.


    "A little lower, please?" Liv asked. Everyone always seemed to forget how small she was. Archibald lowered the book. Liv closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and held it. When she finally exhaled, she opened her eyes, and looked down at the page.


    "Celet¡¯co Scelis¡¯o¡¯Mae!" she sang out, loud and clear, raising her right hand and thrusting it at the straw target. Once again, the words moved up through her body, from her belly into her chest, rumbling as they came, like peals of thunder in a storm. As it had upstairs, a glistening shard of ice, long and sharp, coalesced in the air in front of Liv¡¯s hand, floating there as if held by some invisible assistant.


    Only this time, the power roared through her like the Aspen River during flood. More and more ice built up in front of her, until the spell had created more of a jagged spear or sword than a dagger. Liv thrust her hand forward, trying to cut off the flow of magic before it grewpletely out of her control.


    The frozen missile streaked forward, piercing the target with such force that it split in half, pieces of broken wood and tufts of straw falling to either side. The shard of ice, in the meanwhile, buried itself in one of the two wooden doors that hung at the entrance to the hall, and with a great crack, the wood shattered outward. Liv, exhausted, fell, and would have hit the floor if Archibald had not dropped the book and caught her up in his arms.


    "I believe," Magis Jurian said, striding forward, "that we have sufficiently proved my Apprentice¡¯s talent. Liv Brodbeck is a member of the mage¡¯s guild, and she will attend the College of V?dic Grammar when shees of age."


    "The girl is clearly a mage," Summerset said, with a scowl. "I will deduct the damage from her wages."


    "It was you who insisted on the demonstration," Lady Julienne pointed out.


    "Moving forward," the baron said. "Yes, as a member of the mage¡¯s guild, it is appropriate for Magis Jurian to speak on her behalf."


    "And, in fact," her master continued, "It is my obligation as her master, given that she is not of age. I request that Apprentice Brodbeck be excused from the remainder of these proceedings."


    "Why?" Mayer Cooper asked, narrowing his eyes.


    "I am going to speak now, in detail," Jurian said, "of the contract between the drovers¡¯ guild and the Eld. I will be unable to avoid speaking of the girl¡¯s family. I would spare her that."


    "We all know her circumstances," Baron Summerset dered. "I hardly think anything you say will be a surprise to her - she knows she¡¯s a bastard." Liv had regained her feet by this point, and thought that the baron¡¯s wife did not look pleased with his words.


    "As you insist, then," Jurian said. He reached into his coat and withdrew a sheaf of papers. "I have here a copy of the agreement between the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers and the Eld of the North. The contract specifies use of two specific words of power, in conjunction, for the exclusive purpose of cold storage. Is my apprentice being used of using her magic to preserve meat, Master Cooper?"


    "No," Alban Cooper admitted, his face even more red than before.


    "Has she been selling enchantments to create cold cers?" Jurian asked. This time, the mayor simply shook his head. "Then Apprentice Brodbeck is not in breach of the guild¡¯s rights," he concluded, raising his hands.


    Summerset looked to the mayor. "If you have wasted my time, Alban, I am going to be cross. What do you have to say to this?"


    "I would ask the baron to at the very least issue an injunction," Cooper said. "Enforceable by the sheriff. That she cannot, from this day, use her magic to those ends exclusive to the guild."


    The baron shrugged. "That is actually somewhat reasonable, Magis. She demonstrably has the ability to break thew whenever she wishes."


    "As do any of us!" Master Grenfell finally stepped forward. "Even your footmen, my lord. Yet we do not judge an innocent before a crime has beenmitted."


    "Not any of our people wield magic that can do that," Baron Henry said, gesturing to the broken door.


    "I must apologize to you, Apprentice," her master said, turning to Liv. "I had not wanted to speak of this here and now." He turned back to the high table. "Such an injunction could not bind Apprentice Brodbeck in any case," Jurian said. "Were you informed, Master Cooper, which northern family negotiated these rights with the guild?"


    "No," Cooper admitted. "That information was not considered relevant to this matter."


    "It is vitally relevant," Jurian insisted. "The guild¡¯s contract is with the House of Syv?."


    "...and that means?" Baron Summerset asked.


    "This contract," Jurian continued, "was negotiated on behalf of his house by Valtteri Ka Auris, thirteen years ago."


    The baron looked no less confused, but Archibald gasped. "This name means something to you?" Summerset asked his footman.


    "My lord," Archibald said, ncing at Liv before returning his eyes to the high table. "Thirteen years ago, a delegation from over the mountains enjoyed the hospitality of this castle for three nights before continuing to the londs. The leader of that delegation was named Valtteri Ka Auris."


    Liv felt suddenly dizzy, and scrambled over to the nearest table, where she sat on the bench, letting her crutch fall to the floor.


    "I was at Coral Bay at the time," Baron Henry said. "But my father wrote of it. I had long since forgotten the name."


    "Let me be explicitly clear," Master Jurian said. "That contract does not relinquish any rights of a member of the House of Syv? to wield their own word of power within the kingdom. In fact, the contract reaffirms that the rights of the house supersede those of the guild. In short, my lord, the contract guarantees that you cannot restrict the rights of a descendent of that house to use their inherited magic."


    "That girl," Mayor Cooper shouted, "is not a member of an Elden House! She is the illegitimate child of a cook!"


    "I believe that cook is still employed in this castle," Jurian said. "Perhaps we should ask her toe up here to tell us the name of Apprentice Brodbeck¡¯s father."


    "Enough of this," Baron Summerset broke in. "You are grasping at straws, Cooper. You brought this to me for arbitration, and now I find that you have even less knowledge of the particrs than the mages¡¯ guild? A guild that was not even involved in the original negotiation? We¡¯re not here to conduct an inquest into the girl¡¯s parentage, nor could her mother prove anything, if we asked her. You brought this to me for arbitration? Very well, this is my judgment. The matter is dismissed. If you don¡¯t like it, you can appeal to the duke, but I strongly rmend against it. He won¡¯t be as patient as I am."


    "Yes, my lord," the mayor said, after a moment. "If I may be excused? The drovers¡¯ guild will be waiting for my message."


    "You may," the baron said, and stood up. "I believe we are finished here, sheriff. Mages." He offered his arm to his wife, and Lady Julienne epted. In short order, the great hall was empty, save for the three mages. Grenfell and Jurian approached the bench where Liv was slumped. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days. She wanted to ask her mother about a name.


    "Forced to cast twice in one day," Master Grenfell grumbled. "She hasn¡¯t even been practicing for a month. This is all too soon."


    "Come along, Liv," Jurian said, offering her a hand up. "Let us get you to your room. Kazamir, I presume you know the way?"


    Liv allowed herself to be hauled to her feet, and epted the crutch from Master Grenfell. The older mages gathered up her books, and carried them for her. "Do you know who my father is?" she asked them, once they¡¯d passed out of the public areas of the house and entered the servants¡¯ hall.


    "I suspect that I do," Master Jurian said. "But I am not certain. I would only be making a guess, based on the evidence avable to me. That is a conversation you should have with your mother, Apprentice. I would prefer not to interfere. In any event, we have a great deal to do before I leave."


    "Livy!" At the end of the hall, her hands covered in flour, Mama stood, her eyes moving between the two men standing to either side of her daughter.


    "Miss Brodbeck," Master Grenfell said. "Allow me to introduce you to Magis Jurian of Carinthia. He has epted your daughter as his apprentice."


    "Does that mean the trouble with the guilds is over?" Liv¡¯s mother asked. "Why don¡¯t you alle into the kitchen," she said, stepping back to make way. "There¡¯s no room in Liv¡¯s room for all of you, and you look like you could use a pot of tea."


    Grenfell held himself awkwardly, and Liv tried to recall whether she had ever actually seen him in the kitchen before. It wasn¡¯t proper for a member of the family - or their court - to be spending time in the servants¡¯ quarters, any more than it would be proper for Sophie to be caught lounging around the hot spring baths.


    Jurian, on the other hand, sat down at the same table where the servants took their meals, utterly at ease. "Thank you, Mistress," he said to Gretta, epting a cup of steaming tea. "Talking so much is dry work."


    Liv hadn¡¯t realized how cold her fingers were until she had them wrapped around her own cup. Instead of putting it down on the table after she took a sip, she continued to cradle it in her hands, absorbing the warmth. "Am I going to feel cold every time I use that word?" she asked.


    "Hard to say," Master Grenfell said. "It is not one that I have ever witnessed, until you. Something for us to keep an eye on. The next time you use it, you will take careful notes immediately on everything you feel."


    "This, too, is part of how we learn," Master Jurian said. "We try things, we see what happens, and then we record the results. Not only for ourselves, but for our colleagues. Even after we are gone, they can learn from our mistakes." He took another sip. "As to your question, Miss Brodbeck, yes, I believe the matter is settled. The baron has made his judgement, and it would be foolish on their part to take this to the Duke of Cound. He has had a good rtionship with the guild since he attended college at Coral Bay as a young man."


    "That¡¯s good," Liv¡¯s mother said, visibly rxing.


    "Once Liv has had a moment to catch her breath," Jurian said, "I would like to take her into town, if you do not mind."


    "What for?" Mama looked Jurian up and down. "She has her afternoon duties to attend to, still."


    "I understand that," the mage replied. "But I cannot remain here long, and I want to see your daughter properly situated with everything she will need before I leave. Is there a bookseller in town?"


    "On High Street," Master Grenfell answered. "I imagine your apprentice will know where."


    "And a ce to purchase mana-infused food?" Master Jurian asked.


    "That will be more difficult," Grenfell said. "There are two people who supply the baron with that sort of food, for special asions, but there aren¡¯t enough mages here to support a shop the year round. For herbs, nuts, berries and the like you would need to go downriver to Fairford, and ask for Aunt Rhea."


    "She¡¯s the local witch," Liv supplied, helpfully.


    Gretta huffed. "She isn¡¯t a witch," the old woman said. "She¡¯s a midwife, and she grows the best garlic around."


    "As to the meat," Master Grenfell said, "Apprentice Brodbeck has already met the best hunter in town."


    "Master Forester?" Liv guessed. "If we go visit him, I could make sure his daughter is well, also."


    "Good," Jurian said. "Before we go, a matter of some delicacy. "Mistress Brodbeck, it seems clear to me that your daughter¡¯s father is one of the Eld. I am not asking you to name him, but can you confirm for me that the man in question was full-blooded? Not partially human?"


    "Yes," Mama said, after a long moment. "Liv is half Eld, half human."


    "Excellent. And I imagine your local chirurgeon has told you that she is not growing as fast as she should," Jurian continued.


    "And my bones," Liv said. "Master Chushing says I have brittle bones. That¡¯s why my ankle broke."


    "Let us see what we can do about that, shall we?" Jurian said. "Kazamir, you¡¯ve never gone over the mountains to Al¡¯Fenthia, have you?"


    "I have not," Master Grenfell admitted.


    "Did you know," Master Jurian said, turning to Liv, "that when I went to Al¡¯Fenthia, I noticed that all of the Eld eat food grown or hunted from near a rift? Mages do, when we can get it, because it helps to replenish us, but I have a theory, and you are going to help me test it."


    "What do I have to do?" Liv asked.


    "You need to eat," her master answered. "And keep careful notes. Let us see what we can do about helping you grow properly, Apprentice."

 12. The Lower Banks and The Hill

    Before the afternoon of the Frost Fair, Liv couldn¡¯t recall ever having ridden in a carriage before. Now, for the second time in only days, she was bundled up in her winter cloak and helped up onto a padded bench.


    "I will have her back to you for her supper," Master Jurian promised Liv¡¯s mother, and then climbed in after her.


    "Where to first, Magis?" the driver asked, his hand on the carriage door.


    "The local bookseller," Jurian answered. The door was shut, and they were off, rattling through the streets of The Hill. Liv was pleased to find that there were furs left on the benches, and she did not feel the slightest hesitation inying her crutch on the carriage floor and wrapping herself up in a bearskin.


    She couldn¡¯t help but press herself to the ss panes of the windows, looking out at the people in the streets as they passed. "I¡¯m always the one down on the ground," Liv admitted to Master Jurian. "Looking at the merchants in their fancy carriages, getting sshed by the muck from their wheels as they go by."


    "You have something the guildsmen can¡¯t buy with all their coins," her master pointed out.


    "My word," she said, turning away from the window to face him. It stirred when she thought of it, then turned over and went back to sleep.


    Jurian nodded. "A few of them manage to marry a daughter into a noble family, and have grandchildren inherit a word of power," he exined. "But the guilds only license enchantments. And while money might get someone into the college, only hard work and talent will see them all the way through. There is a reason that Kazimir is the only mage in this entire town."


    The bookseller¡¯s shop was a stone building with two ss-paned windows in front and a painted wooden sign hanging over the door that read: "Gaunt¡¯s Books."


    "Wait for us," Master Jurianmanded the driver. "We have at least two more stops to make, and there will be packages to load." Liv followed the mage into the shop, then closed the door behind her. Above the doorframe, a set of wooden chimes hung from the ceiling, and it jostled every time a patron entered or left the building, filling the shop with muted tones.


    "Good afternoon," the shopkeeper said, stepping forward with a broad smile on his face. He was a heavyset man with great, sweeping mustaches that gave him something of the look of a hound.


    "Master Gaunt, I presume?" Jurian asked.


    "Indeed, Master Mage," Gaunt replied, his eyes lingering on the staff that Jurian kept in his right hand. "How can I help you?"


    "My apprentice needs as many of the following books as you have on hand," Master Jurian said. Liv tried to keep up with the list of titles, but they came too quickly, as fast as the Aspen River during flood season. What was more, the extensive list quickly turned into titles and authors, shot back and forth between the mage and the shopkeeper. Gaunt would admit he didn¡¯t have a particr history of the kingdom, and propose a different book as an alternative. When he noticed that Liv¡¯s attention was wandering, Jurian pointed his staff at a shelf of leatherbound books with no titles or names on them.


    "Pick one of those," he ordered her. "The one you like best. Make certain it is at least three fingers thick."


    Liv leaned her crutch against the bookcase, putting all of her weight on her good ankle. She couldn¡¯t help but smile as she picked up one book after another. They were pleasantly solid, the leather of each smooth and soft to the touch. Nearly all of them had patterns or pictures stamped onto the front cover. There were trees, flowers, even a wolf howling at the moon. Every single book was a work of art. She opened one, brought it to her face, and inhaled the scents of new leather and paper.


    When she flipped through a few of the pages, she realized they were all nk. A quick check of two other books from the shelf confirmed that the entire collection was waiting to be filled with a customer¡¯s writing. This would be much easier than scrawling phrases in the margins of her beat up old bestiary. Liv held three of her fingers against each journal in turn, setting aside the ones which weren¡¯t thick enough to meet her master¡¯s requirements. Some of them had attached rawhide leather cords, which could be wrapped around and tied to keep the book shut when not in use. A few even had simple bronzetches attached, which she decided would be more convenient. Those weren¡¯t stamped, but Liv didn¡¯t need a pretty picture on the front: she wanted something sturdy, with as much room as she could get for notes. Taking the thickest of thetching books, she put all the others back as she¡¯d found them, put her crutch back under her arm, and turned to find that the shopkeeper and Master Jurian had stacked at least a dozen books on the shopkeeper¡¯s counter.


    "All of those?" Liv asked, trying not to stare.


    "Expect more to arrive after flood season," Jurian muttered, and she got the impression that he was annoyed at the dy.


    "Would this one be alright?" she asked, holding up the nk book she¡¯d chosen. Now that she was presenting it for judgement, Liv worried that she¡¯d been too greedy. It was likely one of the most expensive options, given how thick it was and the additional cost of the bronzetch.


    "Perfect," Jurian said, hardly even giving the book a nce. "I¡¯ve already given Master Gaunt his money; let us be on our way. We have several more stops to make."


    "Thank you, Master Gaunt," Liv said, doing her best to curtsy, despite the crutch under one arm and the book in her hands.


    "I am certain I will see you again, young miss," the bookseller said, and helped them carry the purchased books out to the carriage. Because they were in The Hill, there were expensive-looking shops up and down both sides of the street, and while the books were packed, Liv found herself distracted by a dress-maker¡¯s shop, which upied the next storefront over.


    The windows were two of thergest Liv had ever seen, and were used to disy a beautiful piece on each side, both arranged on wooden frames. One was a merchant¡¯s dress, with all the outer skirts and the bodice a dark gray color, but the inner lining a brilliant purple. The other was clearly intended for a noblewoman, for no one else would be permitted to wear fabric patterned in bright crimson and deep ck.


    Mirabel and Griselda couldn¡¯t wear that one, Liv realized, even if they could probably afford it. Out of everyone in town, only Lady Julianne was within her rights to do so. Perhaps the shopkeeper had put it in the window specifically to attract the eye of the baron and his bride.


    "I¡¯m not buying you a dress today," Master Jurian said,ing up behind Liv. She felt her cheeks bloom with heat, and she stepped back away from the window.


    "I couldn¡¯t wear it anyway," she said.


    Jurian narrowed his eyes. "You know thatws are not the same everywhere, Liv, don¡¯t you? In thends of the Eld, in Lendh ka Dakruim, or even across the sea in Varuna, you could wear whatever you liked, regardless of your birth."


    Liv attempted to imagine herself in such a beautiful dress, but she couldn¡¯t make the picturee. Every time she tried, a dirty kitchen apron got in the way. "Are we going to see Master Forester?" she asked, and her master nodded, helping her back into the carriage.


    Master Forester, of course, did not live on The Hill. The carriage rumbled down toward the open-air market at the center of town, leaving behind the homes of wealthy merchants, the Temple of the Trinity, the Old Oak Inn, and Castle Whitehill. The Lower Banks was not a neighborhood Liv had been to before; when Mama took her shopping, it was always to the market. She could see the river pier to the east, past a row of warehouses. The carriage jostled past two additional inns, their signs proiming them the Laughing Carp and the Gilded Star. Liv saw a butcher, a potter, and a smithy, all too loud or foul-smelling to be permitted in the wealthier district. Finally, they rolled to a halt in front of a wooden house of two stories, with a few small windows and a sign hanging over the door that read: ¡¯Forester: Game Meats and Furs.¡¯


    Master Jurian knocked at the door, while Liv tried to keep her shoes from being ruined by the muck. In the Lower Banks, the streets were evidently not nearly as clean as up the hill, and she wrinkled her nose at a familiar stink. Did people really just empty their chamber pots in the street? That was what it smelled like.


    Liv looked up and down the street. Two houses down, a group of youths were clustered around the end of an alley. One of them was a skinny girl a bit older than Liv, with her head uncovered and her hair shorn close to her scalp. Liv was surprised that she recognized two of the boys. There was Little Whit, whose im to fame in the town was that he was the only son of Big Whit, still undefeated at bare-knuckle boxing at every market day for as long as Liv could remember. The other was Bill, the former footman, no longer in his livery.


    Did he know that she was the reason he¡¯d lost his position at the castle? Liv wasn¡¯t quite sure until he turned in her direction and met her eyes. She¡¯d never been looked at so hatefully, and Liv suspected that when he spoke, it was to his friends about her. The short-haired girl and Little Whit both looked over, as well, and she wanted to crawl away and hide from their stares.


    At that moment, the door to Master Forester¡¯s home swung open, and the man stepped out into the street, frowning. The moment he looked past Master Jurian to Liv, however, his face broke into a great smile, and heughed. "Miss Brodbeck! Wee, wee. Who is your friend, here?"


    "Magis Jurian of Carinthia," her master answered, extending his hand. "Miss Brodbeck has agreed to be my apprentice. I understand you are the best hunter and trapper in the town?"


    "In the town? No!" Kale Forester said. "In the whole sted valley! Come in,e in. Emma,e see who our visitors are!" he called into the house, holding the door open for Liv and Jurian to enter. Once the walls were blocking the gazes of the youths in the alley, Liv felt a good deal better.


    A dark-haired little girl of perhaps five years bounced down the stairs and into the room. Liv was relieved to see that Emma Forester did not look sick or injured in the slightest. "Hello," she said, waving with the hand that was not gripping her crutch.


    "Emma," Kale Forester said, "this is the girl who pulled you out of the river."


    "Liv Brodb-eek!" Liv stumbled backward and did her best not to fall as the child threw herself forward. Emma wrapped her arms around Liv¡¯s waist and squeezed.


    "Thank you!" the little girl said. It was a strange experience, for Liv to see someone who was actually smaller than she was looking up at her. "I remember falling, and how cold it was, and going to sleep, and then I woke up wrapped in furs in front of a fire, and then I had to take the longest bath ever, but I¡¯m fine now!"


    "You don¡¯t have to thank me," Liv said, embracing the girl in return. If nothing else, it kept her from losing her bnce. "I was just the one who saw it happen. Anyone would have helped, in my ce."


    "Well, we are grateful, in any case," Master Forester said. "How was that venison? Did you need more?"


    "Actually," Master Jurian said, "that brings us to the point of our visit. I am told you are the person to see if one wishes to acquire game meat saturated by the Bald Peak rift."


    "Let me show you my dolls!" Emma said, taking Liv by the hand and dragging her toward the foot of the stairs. She was able to keep one ear on the negotiation between Kale Forester and her master, which seemed to involve regr deliveries to the castle kitchens in return for payments made by the mages¡¯ guild. It turned out they would not need to go to Fairford, after all, for the hunter knew Auntie Rhea.


    "No, I see her regrly," Forester exined. Liv was puppeting a stuffed bear of knitted wool, while Emma stalked it with a rag-doll hunter. "I bring her any herbs or seeds I find on the lower slopes of the mountain. It¡¯s no trouble for me to pick up what you need from her. She¡¯s in Whitehill often enough, anyway - whenever someone needs a midwife."


    "Well, that saves us a bit of time," Master Jurian said. "Thank you. Do you happen to have anything here today?"


    "You¡¯re in luck," the hunter told him. "The rift is getting near to an eruption, and there are more and more beasts roaming about. I¡¯ve got a mountain cottontail that would make a good stew, hanging in back. I¡¯d been nning to see whether Master Grenfell wanted it; he sometimes buys from me."


    "We¡¯ll take it when we leave," Jurian said.


    "Will Master Grenfell mind?" Liv asked, looking up from the dolls. "I don¡¯t want to inconvenience him."


    "You can always share the stew with him, if you like," Master Jurian said, epting the skinned rabbit. "But if my theory is correct, you need this more than he does, Apprentice. Come along now."


    "Goodbye, Emma," Liv said, using the crutch to help her stand up. "It was good to see you, and I¡¯m pleased you¡¯re doing well."


    "Maybe you cane y again sometime?" Emma asked.


    "Perhaps," Liv said.


    "Before I forget," Kale Forester said. "Take these - I finished them yesterday." He handed her a pair of skates carved from the horns of the buck he¡¯d given her, along with rawhide leather cords to tie them onto her shoes.


    Once they¡¯d returned to the castle, Liv did her best to catch up on all the work that had umted for her in the scullery. She took her new ring off and set it aside so that it wouldn¡¯t be lost or ruined. Master Jurian pulled a chair over from the kitchen table, set it in the hall right outside the room, and put her new leather-bound book in hisp, with a bottle of ink on the floor next to him.


    "I want you to know what I¡¯m putting in here for you," he exined. "So pay attention to me while you¡¯re scrubbing those dishes. I¡¯ll leave the front of the book for you to record your spells and notes; in the back, I¡¯m going to put some words that I think will be useful to you."


    "Just words?" Liv asked, putting her shoulder into the grime that had been baked onto one of the pie tes. "Not full spells? What about that blue bubble that you made? That looked useful."


    "The word of raw magical force," Jurian said, dipping his quill into the ink. "That will be taught to you at the College, when you confirm your membership in the guild. We do not teach it to anyone who is not going to make a lifelongmitment to us. As to your other question," he said, over the scratching of quill on paper, "I do not intend to make youzy, Apprentice."


    "You have the luxury of time," her master exined. "Twenty years, at least, before you travel to Coral Bay. No other apprentice will have such a lengthy introduction, so I expect you to make good use of it. I will not give you a single other spell, but I will give you something better: the tools to create your own. By the time you arrive for your first year of studies, I expect you to be able to demonstrate at least half a dozen new spells, using your word of power."


    "Six?" Liv repeated. It seemed like a lot, when she¡¯d never even created a single spell in her life.


    "Six," Jurian confirmed. "In addition to the one that I¡¯ve already given you. You should give it a name, by the way. I¡¯m giving you a list of numbers in V?dic," he continued. "As well as a few shapes. I expect the word for ¡¯wall¡¯ will be useful to you," the mage muttered as he wrote. "Let¡¯s see what you can do with a few body parts. I trust Grenfell to teach you the proper conjugations and cases, be certain you check your work with him before actually trying to cast anything. And by the Trinity, do not use any of these inside the castle. In fact, go out of the town entirely. Find yourself a ce to practice where no one other than you can be hurt."


    Outside of Whitehill? Liv had never been outside of Whitehill on her own before: only with Mama, as a passenger on the asional sleigh ride, or for a market day pic in the mountains. "Master Forester said an eruption wasing," she said. "Will it be safe?"


    "Once the rift has been culled, it will be safe," Jurian said. "Baron Henry can see to organizing that - it¡¯s his responsibility, after all. Make certain that Kazamir tells you about it when they¡¯re done; there¡¯s a great deal you can learn."


    They both workedte into the night: Liv until there was not a single dish left to scrub, and her master until he¡¯d run out of ideas to write into the back of her book. Liv went to bed with a stack of books on her bedside table, her new skates on the floor, and a silver ring on her finger. It was as if her empty room had suddenly been filled with a treasure trove. She opened her new spellbook, and took a big breath of the scent of fresh leather and paper before putting it back and cuddling in with Rosie and Charlie.


    The next morning, she woke to find that Master Jurian had left before dawn.

 13. Keremor

    Inkeris had been fasting for three days by the time they reached the shoals of the rift.


    His father, of course, had no need to fast. Watching the old man eat strips of dried caribou every evening around their campfire, and then in the mornings when they rose, was enough to make even the most patient son irritable. Added to the constant misery of camping in the snow, it all put Keri in the most foul mood he could remember. Even he knew it, though it didn¡¯t make his words any less sharp.


    "There," Ilmari ka V?inis, Elder of the Unconquered House of B?lris pronounced, pointing with satisfaction. "Can you feel it, boy?" The northern wind whistled through the pine forest, carrying a cold spray of snow with every gust and tossing Father¡¯s white hair and beard about.


    "What I feel is cold," Keri grumbled, leaning on his N?v¡¯bel, which he¡¯d been using as a walking stick. He¡¯d never liked using a sword, but on this journey he could see the point of a weapon that could be sheathed and hung on a belt. "But yes, Father, I can feel the edge of the shoal. It¡¯s like stepping into a wall of steam." Unlike the elder, he was encased in a thick, hooded parka of caribou skin and an inneryer of fox fur. It was not enough, and to see the old man bare-faced and unmoved by the cold only exacerbated his frustration.


    "Good," Ilmari said. "We will go to the edge of the shoal, in sight of the deand. Be mindful of the mana while we walk; do not lose control. If youe back with mana-sickness, your promised will take it out on me. And that girl frightens me."


    Keri grunted, and trudged after his father, following the path the old man broke through the snow. About this, he had no pride: the less attention he had to pay to his footing, the more he could focus on circting the mana throughout his body. Father was right about one thing: if Keri returned to Menis Breim with weeping sores on his skin, Rika¡¯s temper would hurt more than the chirurgeon¡¯s knife.


    Eyes half lidded, Keri breathed in until he felt like his lungs would burst, then held for a count of ten before exhaling. The mana-rich air of the shoal was saturated with so much magic that it spilled out of his lungs and into the rest of his body. Keri¡¯s task was to keep it from running on uncontrolled. The mana needed to be circted evenly, so that it didn¡¯t overwhelm any one part of his body. Inattention could be fatal, and this was his first time entering the shoals of a rift.


    Fortunately, the controlled breathing helped Keri to sink into a state of rxation, nearly dozing. It was only when his father finally drew him up to a halt that he realized they¡¯d crossed the entire shoal, and he silently thanked the elders who had drilled mana-control techniques into him over and over again.


    "You see?" Father asked, pointing out where the snow drifts dwindled, revealing the white bones of caribou, bear, wolves, and a dozen other types of beasts. Unlike the game he was used to hunting with his cousins, the skulls exposed by the heat of Keremor were enormous: true mana-beasts, grown to two or even three times the normal size of a non-magical animal. Even with the reach of the N?v¡¯bel, he would not have wanted to face that kind of threat alone.


    Past the field of bones and dead ground, a column of steam rose into the winter sky. It was so thick that Keri couldn¡¯t even see the rift itself, only the effect of it on the surroundingnd. "Have you ever gone inside?" he asked his father.


    "Once," Ilmari said. "You are not ready. Not until you master Savel." Even without incantation or intent, the word thrummed in Keri¡¯s blood and bones. He would not have dared to say it aloud, but then he did not have the long years of practice that had made his father an expert. "Make yourselffortable," the old manmanded. "I will stand guard." A guard was no mere formality or ritual - they were deep within the influence of the rift, where monstrous creatures were likely to threaten them.


    Keri found a patch of ground where no snow remained, just at the border between the shoals and the depths, and a spear¡¯s length away from any bleached bones. No nts grew here, and even the rocks were bare of lichen. He was surprised to find that the ground was warm when he sat, and that after three days of hiking through the frozen taiga, he was beginning to sweat. He removed his gloves, then unfastened his parka and shrugged out of it. The temperature was closer tote flood, or early harvest, than winter.


    Setting aside his spear, Keri sat cross legged, his back straight. The posture had been drilled into him from his earliest years. "Youe here to prove yourself an adult, and not a child," his father intoned. "A free man of the Unconquered House of B?lris. It is time to set aside the ways of a child. A child can be reckless; a man cannot. A man must consider always not only the good of himself, but the good of his family. He must heed the words of the elders, and learn from their wisdom. He must protect his kwenim, for however long they walk by his side. He must teach and protect the children the gods see fit to grant him. He must use the words of the dead gods for the good of all, and not the good of one. Will you do these things, my son?"


    "I will," Keri said. Before the endless trudge through the forest, it had been easy to make light of the ritual. It was something that had to be done before he could join with Rika, just as she had her own rituals to undergo with the women of Menis Breim. A dy to be suffered through, so that he could get on with his life. Now, suddenly, it all seemed much more real. Children? How could he have a child - it seemed only yesterday he¡¯d been mbering over the wet rocks above the bathing pools with Rika and Sohvis.


    "In the first age of the world," his father continued, "the V?dic Lords cast their eyes and their ears anywhere they wished. Across mountains and oceans, nothing was concealed from their sight and their notice, save by their own carelessness orcence. The winds of mana whispered in their ears of things yet toe, things that might be. We are but children in their shadows, but some small measure of their power remains. You will remain here until B?lris sees fit to grant you a glimpse of what is toe."


    Those words were dangerous. Keri closed his eyes, and fell back into the slow, steady breathing that let him filter mana throughout his body. B?lris, V?dic Lord of Light, had stood neither with Tamiris, Arvatis and Sitia, nor with the dead gods that had been thrown down. Instead, in disgust, B?lris had simply withdrawn from the world and left. That ced his descendants in an awkward position. Like their ancestor, Keri¡¯s family had stood aside, preferring to make a home for themselves at Menis Breim. One would have thought that over a thousand yearster, the disagreement would have been forgotten, but the Vakansa had memories even longer than their lives.


    Every breath tasted of mana-rich steam; it was even more dense with magic here, at the edge of the depths, than it had been on the way in. Keri realized that he was struggling not to lose control; his entire body felt bloated with power. The easiest thing to do would be to cast a spell - probably more than one - and use up some of the magic coursing through him. But that was not the point of the ritual. Instead, he used as much as he could, soothing away the bruises of travel, the blisters on his feet, the soreness in his muscles.


    There was nothing but the breathing, and the mana. Everything else faded away. There was no earth and no sky, no wind through the pines of the taiga. The spear on the ground next to Keri was as far away as the stars and the ring overhead. He could not hear his own father, standing guard.


    Finally, the wild surge of mana that flooded his body with every breath slowed, then ceased. His body was so utterly saturated with magic that Keri was now bnced with the power of the rift, around him. He breathed in and out, in and out again, and the world breathed with him. There was no separation between Keri¡¯s body and the magic that flowed out of him with his breath; it mingled with the wind, and was tossed throughout the forest, and it too was him.


    With the magic on the wind, Keri whirled through the taiga, gazing down at the dark pines. Menis Breim rose in the distance, rearing up between the forest and the coast, and whale-oilmps gleamed in the windows of the Mountain Home built by his ancestors. But Keri¡¯s gaze did not stop there; it continued south with the wind, twisting through mountain passes. He caught a glimpse of Al¡¯Fenthia, and then it too was behind him. South, ever south he blew, into thends of the Kenth?oria.


    The towns and buildings of younger brother were strange, and their tongue had changed over many generations until it was unrecognizable. Keri had never been to theirnds, but he recognized things that were not of his own people, and understood.


    Eyes opened, meeting his gaze. They were the blue of the winter sky, cracked over with frost. The delicateshes put him in mind of a woman, though he could see no other part of her. Whoever she was, it was not Rika. The children of B?lris always had the light of their ancestor in their eyes, and his promised was no exception. Her eyes flinched away from him, like an animal who has endured too much pain.


    "Who are you?" Keri asked.


    The only response was the sudden gust of snow, and his world became entirely white. The warmth of Keremor fled before the driving winds of a blizzard, and Keri came out of the vision, shivering.


    Slumped on the ground not four paces away was the corpse of a white northern bear, still smoking from where his father had burned it. The monster wasrger than a whale calf, and Keri could hardly imagine how it had moved onnd. The stink of burnt flesh and boiled blood was sickening.


    Keri shook himself, and a fine dust of snow and ice, already melting, fell from him. He rolled to the side and took up the N?v¡¯bel in one hand, in case the great bear had a mate. "Good, you¡¯ve returned," his father said, turning away from the beast. "The corpse will only bring more, and we can¡¯t possibly eat it all. What did you see?"


    "A woman," Keri said, "with blue eyes. She was like a winter storm."


    "Beautiful?" his father asked, squatting down next to the bear¡¯s carcass and pulling a skinning knife.


    "I don¡¯t know," Keri admitted. "I could only see her eyes."


    "Beautiful," Ilmari repeated, peeling back white fur as he worked. "I can tell from your tone. The eyes are enough to know it. Not your promised. Best not to tell Rika you had a vision of another woman before you¡¯ve even bound yourself to her. Wait a few years."


    "I¡¯m not certain you should be giving me advice about women," Keri grumbled. Since there were no more threats in the immediate area, he set his spear down and pulled his parka back on. Despite the heat from the steam in the depths, the vision had left him half-frozen.


    "Likely not," his father admitted. "Start a fire. We¡¯ll cook a few steaks. You need the fat for the walk back."


    Keri had to hike back into the shoals to find wood, and even there it was difficult. He was fortunate enough to spot a fallen pine tree by its shape under the snow. Once he¡¯d dug down with his gloves, he found dead branches wedged between the ground and the snow above, and broke off as many as he could carry. By the time he¡¯d returned, his father had done good work carving up the bear¡¯s loin, so Keri arranged the pine branches carefully.


    "Savelent ?m Deru," he sang softly. The magic came easily, mana erupting up from Keri¡¯s belly like a geyser. A sh of sunlight, bright enough to blind anyone who did not have the blood of B?lris in their veins, erupted from his hands, and the kindling began to smoke, then quickly caught. With more effort than he was used to, Keri cut off the flow of mana, and the light dwindled.


    "You could have used the spark charm," his father chastised him.


    "I could have," Keri said. "But it¡¯s a relief to use some of this mana."


    They cooked the meat as quickly as they could, and Keri took a slice off the fire as soon as he was certain it would be safe to eat. It was savory, tender and juicy, and always reminded him a bit of caribou when it was cooked well. Because the beast was living in the shoal, raw mana burst onto his tongue and warmed his belly with every bite, pushing the exhaustion and weariness from his muscles with a wash of energy. He felt stuffed and hungry all at the same time, but ate until he couldn¡¯t stand it any longer. By the time Keri was done, his father had already packed up as much cooked meat as they could carry, and the two men set off back toward the edge of the shoal, away from the rift itself.


    "Do you have any advice for me?" Keri finally asked, once they were back amongst the trees, with the steaming rift out of sight.


    "I thought I was thest one who should give you advice about women," his father teased him. The man still hadn¡¯t bothered to pull up his hood, which Keri found ridiculous.


    "I didn¡¯t say I would follow it," Keri shot back.


    "You want to know what I think?" Imari said. "Fine. You¡¯re both stupid children. I can hardly believe either one of you is old enough to be matched and bound. You¡¯re going to make mistakes. You¡¯re going to get under her skin, and she¡¯s going to make you angry. You¡¯ve never lived with a woman. The best thing you can do is to be kind to her, even when you¡¯re ready to tear each other¡¯s eyes out. You have time - more than most. The agreement is only for one child. If things don¡¯t work, you end it there, and move on. We live too long to be miserable with each other."


    "Father," Keri said, drawing up to a halt. "What is that?"


    "You¡¯re the one who asked," his the old manined. "The least you can do is listen to your elders."


    "No, there," Keri said, taking his spear in both hands and breaking off from their path, heading crosswise through the taiga. "There. It looks like..." Up ahead, a ring of stones broke the white crust of the snow. The scent of rot blood lingered where it should not.


    "Let me go first," his father ordered, sunlight ring in his eyes. Keri only held back two paces, following his father off to the left. He wanted enough room between them that an ambush couldn¡¯t take both men at once.


    They stopped at the edge of the ring. The stones surrounded a dead pine, and the branches had been chopped off to a height of fifteen or twenty feet. Like the teaching-trees of Mountain Home, someone had shaped the trunk of the pine. Rather than the head of a wolf or an owl, however, the tree had been shaped into the form of a woman, with her arms extended up over her head, smooth and delicate until the carver had stopped his work, fading into the trunk above.


    Her legs, as well, extended down toward the ground, until the voluptuous swell of hips and thighs was reced by the unworked wood at the base of the tree. In between, the carved woman was clearly nude, with swelling breasts and a rounded belly. The details were rough, but her face was sensuous, with parted lips and heavy eyes, and a mane of hair tumbling about her shoulders.


    It would have been beautiful if it wasn¡¯t encrusted with blood.


    Bones were scattered around the clear circle marked out by the stones, and the snow seemed not to dare to fall there. A great bowl of turned wood had been set in front of the carved tree, and it was thick with coagted blood. Worse, it was piled with organs, preserved by the cold. Keri stepped past the stones and leaned down to examine one of the bones.


    "This is not an animal," he said, recognizing the shape of the hipbone. With the butt of his spear, he shifted the pile, and found a skull. "Some of these were our people. Do you recognize the carving?"


    "I know it," his father murmured. "Though I¡¯d hoped never to see anything like it again. It is an idol, made to receive sacrifice. It is one of the dead gods."


    Keri rose to his feet. "Whoever they were, they don¡¯t deserve to be left here."


    "We will return with more men," his father said, turning to scan the forest. "We must find who did this. It cannot be allowed to continue."


    "Which one is it?" Keri looked over the carving one more time. Was she bleeding from the eyes?


    "Raktia," his father said. "The Lady of Blood."

 14. Winter鈥檚 End

    "Almost done, child," Master Chirurgeon Cushing muttered as he carved pieces of skin from Liv¡¯s right arm.


    It was very odd: she could feel the pressure, and a kind of tugging, but the old man had used an enchanted wand to make it so that she couldn¡¯t feel any pain. Halfway through cutting away the third patch of mana-sickness, the magic had started to wear off, and when Master Cushing noticed her flinching, he¡¯d used the wand again. Then he¡¯d let her hold it.


    "I wish Master Grenfell would teach me the V?dic sigils," Liv remarked. "I¡¯d really like to be able to read this and see what words are used."


    "Kazamir has his reasons," Cushing said, pulling off thest piece of her skin. She recognized the clink made when he set his surgical knife down, but decided to wait until he¡¯d finished bandaging the wound before she looked down. Even if she couldn¡¯t feel anything, the first glimpse of blood all over her arm, where the skin had been removed, had nearly made her throw up. Instead, she ran her fingers over the V?dic letters, first carved into the wood of the wand, and then filled in with silver.


    "He says he won¡¯t teach me enchanting," Livined. "That it¡¯s better to learn that at the College. But I¡¯m going to ask him again in a few years. Maybe he¡¯ll change his mind."


    "There." Cushing finished wrapping her arm in linen. "That should do you for now, Miss Brodbeck. You¡¯re toe and see me every day to get the bandages changed, and you are absolutely forbidden from putting that arm into a dirty wash-bucket. Also, when the numbness wears off again, your arm is going to hurt quite a bit. I rmend getting some ice from the courtyard and using it to keep the wounds cold. That will ease things somewhat."


    Liv handed him the wand back, pulled the sleeve of her shift back down, and carefully slid down off the chirurgeon¡¯s table, grabbing her crutch where she¡¯d left it. She scooped her books up and tucked them under her arm, then crossed the room. Using the crutch to move was second nature, now.


    "Your ankle seems to be healing well," Cushing called to her, before Liv could close the door behind her. "And you¡¯ve grown half an inch sincest I measured you. Keep eating what Master Forester brings you."


    "I will," Liv assured him, and hurried off toward Master Grenfell¡¯s chambers for her lessons. In the month since Master Jurian had left, her days had settled into a new routine. She rose as early as she ever had, but now there was no time to dawdle in bed until her mother chased her out. If she woke up with half a bell to spare, she looked over her lessons before getting dressed. Her master had told her to create six spells of her own before she left for Coral Bay, and she had thoughts about what she wanted to do.


    When she wasn¡¯t cleaning chamber pots or dishes, or upstairs for her lessons, Liv continued to help her mother and Gretta cook. Gretta often asked her to read from the old recipe-book that had been passed from one head cook to the next for generations; the old woman insisted that her eyes weren¡¯t as good as they used to be. Liv didn¡¯t mind the reading; it helped her practice. It had also given her an idea, and she had been saving her wages to visit Master Gaunt¡¯s book shop. Some of the pages were so old and stained they could hardly be read, and most of the writing was messy or in a cramped hand. Both Gretta and her mother would have a much easier time if Liv copied the recipes into a new book, neatly.


    Master Forester made regr deliveries of special foods for Liv: venison, rabbit, duck, pheasant and quail, whatever he could hunt from the mountain slopes near Bald Peak. He brought spices from the midwife Rhea, as well, whom Liv had yet to meet in person: dried garlic, onion, sage, thyme and pepper, all brimming with mana. Cooking special meals added to the workload, and Liv often felt guilty about not eating the same thing as the other servants. Sophie gave her several sharp looks, and sharing the food with Master Grenfell didn¡¯t help, because the maid ended up being the one sent to deliver his food. Sophie was cautious enough not to say anything where the first footman could hear her, and Liv avoided the maid as much as she could.


    A new footman had been hired, to rece Bill, whom Liv had not seen since the day she went to the Lower Banks with Master Jurian. Edward was younger than Tom by two years, making him close to Liv¡¯s age, though he was much taller. Perhaps if she continued growing half an inch a month, that would change. Tom certainly seemed pleased with himself to now be second footman, and to have a junior. Liv knew there was talk of finally hiring a maid fordy Julianne, and a nurse for theing child, which would make the servants¡¯ quarters busier than she could ever recall in the past.


    The baron¡¯s wife was now past the time she¡¯d been expected to give birth. The question of whether something was wrong with the pregnancy had be the gossip of choice downstairs, finally pushing aside all the excitement about Liv. First Footman Archibald maintained that Master Cushing had the matter well in hand, while Gretta and Mama had on several asions given the opinion that Auntie Rhea should be brought up to the castle.


    "She delivered you, dove," Mama had remarked to Liv just that morning. "No matter how much he learned from the guild, no man knows as much about childbirth as a woman."


    Liv was just looking forward to seeing the baby, though she would have liked to meet the midwife and thank her for the steady supply of herbs. There hadn¡¯t been a child in the castle - other than her - for her entire life.


    She reached Master Grenfell¡¯s chambers before Mirabel and Griselda arrived, which was ording to her n, and took a seat at her desk, putting aside the question of whether the baby might be a boy or a girl. The mage had not emerged from the door that led to his bedroom, yet, so Liv carefully unfolded the sheet of paper on which she¡¯d been working for some days. Her nk book was so nice, perhaps the nicest thing she owned, and she wasn¡¯t willing to write anything inside until she waspletely certain.


    Ice Knives


    Ice des


    Ice Daggers


    Frozen Shards


    Celent¡¯he (number) Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae


    Number: Dvo, Trei, Cetve, Encve, Svec¡­


    Liv tapped her finger along the incantation as she read. She had conjugated her word of power so that, rather than specifying a singr shard of ice, it now allowed more than one piece. That meant changing Scelis to Scelim, pluralizing the noun, as well. The pronoun had to change from ¡¯this¡¯ to ¡¯these,¡¯ and she¡¯d written down the v?dic numbers two through six. Master Jurian had actually left her a list going as high as ten, but that seemed a bit of a stretch for someone just developing their first spell. If she had done everything correctly, however, she should be able to use this phrasing to summon not a single frozen shard, but as many as six, and fling them all at a target.


    "Good work," Master Grenfell told her, and Liv couldn¡¯t help but give a squeak and jump. It was lucky that she hadn¡¯t uncorked her bottle of ink yet, because she¡¯d been absolutely unaware of him entering the room anding up behind her. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Though I wish Jurian had given you a spell for something other than killing things."


    "Thank you."


    "I would not attempt anything more than two, as of yet," the mage cautioned her. "This incantation will require more mana, the more of your-" he looked down at the page again. "Frozen shards, was it? A poetic name, even if the more urate trantion is dagger or knife."


    "What happens if it takes more than I have?" Liv asked. "And how do I use what¡¯s in the ring?"


    "The answer to the first is that you would likely pass out and fall over," Grenfell said. "As well as give yourself another episode of mana-sickness. Unless you wish to be seeing our chirurgeon again so soon, you should temper your experiments. But that does suggest a particr topic for the day, that I suppose is overdue. Thank you for joining us,dies."


    Liv risked a nce at the door, where the two elder girls watched her with the attitude of an owl choosing the plumpest field mouse. "Why does she get extra lessons?" Griseldained.


    "Miss Brodbeck arrived early and was hard at work on her studies," Master Grenfell answered. "If you did the same, perhaps I would take a moment with you, as well. Come in and sit down, please. We are going to begin today by speaking about measuring mana."


    In a cloud of perfume, the two older girls bustled over to their desks and got their skirts in order. Liv quietly thought her clothes much more practical. Master Grenfell pulled the ring from his finger and held it up for all three of them to see.


    "As you all know," he began, "these rings are set with cut and polished Aluthet¡¯Staia - many of them mined from our own Bald Peak, though there are other deposits in the kingdom, as well. The guild gives every member an identical ring, each set with a standard sized, one and a quarter carat stone. These stones are the only objects capable of holding mana indefinitely, without degradation, allowing them to serve as reservoirs of power. They also serve as the foundation of how we measure mana."


    Liv turned over the paper she¡¯d been doing her spellwork on, uncorked her bottle of ink, and began to write down what the master mage was saying.


    "The Gift of Tamiris changed a fundamental truth about the existence of humanity," Grenfell continued. "When our ancestors were servants of the old gods, we did not have ess to mana. Humans could not even use charms, to say nothing of high magic. The Lord of Potential gave us the ability to use spells, and therefore the ability to store mana within our bodies. However, we do not all benefit from The Gift equally. Most humans can only store enough mana to fill a single one of these rings. People at that level are not considered worth training by the guild."


    "How do we know whether we can hold more?" Liv asked.


    "The answer to that," Master Grenfell said, "is simple. We drain all the mana from a ring, and then draw from your own body, refilling the ring. We do this repeatedly, counting how many times you are able to fill one of these stones. This will give us a measurement in rings. We generally speak of a mage as having attained four rings, or six, or what have you. Now, who wishes to be first?"


    Liv was not surprised that Mirabel Cooper stood immediately. The girl pranced over to Master Grenfell, clearly expecting to be praised as an exceptional example of magical talent. Liv, however, had more questions. "How many rings do most members of the guild fill?" she asked, pausing her quill above her paper.


    "Anyone who graduates the College of V?dic Grammar will be able to fill at least nine rings," Grenfell answered her. "And that would be a student of little talent, indeed. Someone who arrives for their first year with less than four is unlikely to keep up with their studies." He walked over to his cab, and withdrew the samerge hunk of unpolished mana-stone that Liv had witnessed him use the day she¡¯d nearly died at the Frost Fair. Softly, Grenfell began to chant in v?dic, and Liv leaned forward to watch wisps of brilliant blue and gold empty out of his ring, into the muchrger rock.


    "Very well, Miss Cooper," Grenfell said. "Let us begin."


    The mage filled and emptied his ring three times before he could draw nothing more from the mayor¡¯s daughter; Mirabel, by the end, was wavering on her feet. Liv couldn¡¯t quite feel sympathy, but she did know the feeling, and it made her wince. Griselda helped her friend back over to a chair, and then presented herself for testing.


    "Not bad," Grenfell judged. "You have a few years yet before leaving for Coral Bay; you might make four rings by then." He turned to and went to work. Griselda, to her clear and immediate displeasure, could only fill two rings. Liv tried her best to fasten her eyes on her notes, but a hint of her satisfaction must have escaped, for the older girl red at her.


    "Let¡¯s see how you do, then. There must be a lot of magic in scrubbing chamber pots!"


    Liv corked her inkpot, lifted her crutch, and walked over to Master Grenfell.


    "Hand me your ring until the test is finished," the mage instructed her. Liv felt a stab of anxiety at taking it off; she had been so careful not to lose the ring in her daily duties, she didn¡¯t like having it out of her sight. Her teacher brought the rough hunk of stone close to her chest, and Liv recognized the same words he¡¯d used on her once before. She wondered if she could write the spell down urately, when he was done, or if she wouldn¡¯t be able to remember it right. "Aluthos¡¯o¡¯Ea," Master Grenfell sung, and the magic began to flow out of Liv, into the stone.


    When the second ring was filled and emptied, Liv felt relief. She was at least as good as Griselda Mason, then. A third ring was emptied into the massive piece of mana stone, and that meant Mirabel wasn¡¯t better than her. At the fourth ring, Liv felt the girls¡¯ eyes boring into her back. At eight rings, the mayor¡¯s daughter could no longer contain herself.


    "She¡¯s cheating," Mirabel cried out. "It¡¯s a trick. She has more of those rings in her skirts or something."


    "I don¡¯t," Liv protested.


    "Do not interrupt me," Master Grenfell said, none of the usual quaver in his voice. "I need to take an urate measurement." By the tenth ring, Liv was once again feeling that deep rooted weariness she had experienced after saving Emma Forester, and again after casting two spells in quick session at Master Jurian¡¯s direction. After the eleventh ring, she was certain there could not possibly be anything left inside her. But it was only after the twelfth that Grenfell stopped, and returned her ring to her.


    "All of you should be certain to eat a good meal and get full night¡¯s sleep," he said, lifting the hunk of Aluthet¡¯Staia he¡¯d used for the test and carrying it over to his cab. Where before it had been entirely dull, now a noticeable glimmer of mana flickered beneath the surface of the rock.


    Liv managed to hobble back to her desk and slump down into her chair. "How many rings can you fill, Master Grenfell?" she asked.


    For a long moment, her teacher did not answer. Instead, he stared at her with such an expressionless face that Liv could not tell whether he was angry at the question, or even whether he¡¯d heard her at all. Just as she was about to apologize, he answered.


    "Eleven."


    Liv dropped her eyes to her desk, and hunched her shoulders against the inevitable scorn of the two other girls. Instead, the silence was interrupted by Griselda asking a question.


    "What is that?"


    The other girl had half-stood from her chair, arm raised and finger pointed at Master Grenfell¡¯s window. Liv frowned: she couldn¡¯t see anything from where she was sitting. Grenfell gasped, and was across the room before Liv could reach for her crutch. Mirabel and Griselda followed, all three crowded around and in the way by the time Liv got there. She had to get up on her tiptoes to see out.


    At first, everything looked exactly how she would expect. To the right, the town of Whitehill stretched out down the slope from the castle, lining the west bank of the Aspen River. In the distance, the mountains surrounding the Aspen Valley reared up to all sides. The flood season thaw was just beginning, but in most ces snow and ice remained, only now mixed with mud. Woodsmoke stretched up from scores of chimneys, and over it all the bright ring of the gods stretched up into the sky.


    To the left, Bald Peak was illuminated in a column of blue and gold fire, linking the mountain with the great ring above.


    "Is that mana?" Liv whispered.


    "The rift is erupting," Master Grenfell answered. "Your sses are cancelled for the day, and for the foreseeable future. Miss Cooper, Miss Mason, you may wait in the great hall for your carriage, so long as you keep out of the way. Miss Brodbeck, return to your duties, I am certain you will be needed. You may wish to tell your mother to prepare more food than usual for the evening meal. I must go and find the baron."


    Without waiting for a response, the mage hurried out of the room and into the hall, leaving the three girls alone as the castle began to shake. It was the first time Liv saw anything other than contempt in the faces of the other girls, but she took no satisfaction in it: they were clearly just as afraid as she was.

 15. Eruption

    The first time that Castle Whitehill trembled was the worst, but that didn¡¯t mean the aftershocks were any better. The third caught Liv halfway down the servants¡¯ stair and threw her against the wall, where she sunk down to sprawl on the steps so that she couldn¡¯t fall. Thest thing she needed was to break another bone.


    Only when the final tremor had passed did she scoop her books back up, grab her crutch, and make her way down into the kitchen. It was a wreck: there were pots and pans scattered across the floor, a half-burnt log had tumbled out of the hearth, and Gretta was kneeling under the dinner table.


    "Get over here, Livy!" the old woman called. "Something could fall on your head."


    "I think it¡¯s over now," Liv told her. She dropped her books in her usual dinner ce. "And Master Grenfell said that I should tell you and Mama that we need to make extra food today."


    "They¡¯ll be calling in the culling team," Gretta said. "And that means guests. ss cancelled for the day?"


    Liv nodded. "We were learning something interesting, too." She almost said that she could hold more mana than Master Grenfell, but her mother had always told her that no one likes a bragger. Not that Liv had ever had any reason to brag, before.


    "Well, go down in the cold cer and tell your mother it¡¯s done shaking," the old cook said, crawling out from under the table. "Then we can make a n."


    Liv used her crutch to hobble over to the cer stairs, and called down: "Mama, it¡¯s done! Master Grenfell says we need to cook a lot of food!"


    Her mother appeared at the bottom of the steps. "It looks like a ughterhouse down here," Mama said. "A side of beef nearly crushed me. You¡¯re alright, dove?"


    "We were safe up in Master Grenfell¡¯s chambers," Liv assured her, and moved out of the way so that her mother could emerge into the kitchen.


    "So, Maggie," Gretta began. "Most of the knights, you figure?"


    "Count on all twenty of em," Mama agreed, crossing to the cutting counter and opening the old recipe book. "Better to have more than not enough. Master Forester and Auntie Rhea."


    "He¡¯ll bring his daughter, too," Gretta pointed out. "No wife to watch her."


    "The family upstairs, plus downstairs, and of course the castle guards." Mama said. "Figure the sheriff and the mayor, as well. How many is that all together, Livy?"


    "Fifty-six," Liv answered, after making sure that she hadn¡¯t forgotten anyone.


    "You¡¯re on full cooking duty with us today," Mama said. "Get a cauldron boiling with water to make brine, and then start measuring out the thyme and sage for it. Get the salt from Coral Bay, while you¡¯re at it. Gretta, go round up those footmen to carry meat up from the cer for us. Everyone is going to have to pitch in."


    It was the first time that Liv found herself treated like a cook, and not a scullion. The kitchen became a buzzing hive of activity, and anyone who stood in the wrong ce was liable to be knocked over, burnt or scalded. She was fortunate that her broken ankle meant she couldn¡¯t carry much, and so while others moved around, Liv got the tasks that kept her in one ce. She cleaned the potatoes, and stirred the batter for the cornbread.


    During harvest season, the ughtered cattle and swine had been hung in the smoke-house to preserve meat for the winter; now, Tom and Edward were set to carrying enough from the cold cer to provide for a feast. The smoked pork was put in a simmering pot of beans and sauce, to be pulled by hand when it was nice and tender. Gretta started a pot of sauce for the brisket, beginning by cooking down tomatoes, and then adding honey, apple cider vinegar, mustard, peppers, and a mix of other spices. She tasted it with a spoon from time to time, humming in satisfaction. Liv was gratified to see the cornbreading out just like it always had, even though she¡¯d been the one to mix the batter this time, and not Mama.


    The biggest difference from a regr day, however, was that it simply didn¡¯t end. When a dish was done, they sent the pot off to be scoured. Liv wasn¡¯t certain who¡¯d been stuck with that duty, but suspected it might be Sophie. And once the pot was back, they made more. At some point, Archibald took the footmen with him, and all three of them were bringing dishes up to the great hall to serve. With her mother and Gretta, Liv fell into the mad rush of it all, focused only on each task in front of her until it was done.


    She had no idea what bell it was when the first footman put his hand on her shoulder; she hadn¡¯t paid any attention to the chimes from the kitchen horologe since the eruption began.


    "You¡¯re wanted upstairs, Liv," Archibald told her.


    "For what?" Liv blinked, but didn¡¯t stop pouring melted butter across the top of a second tray of brined fingerling potatoes. Or was it the third?


    "Baron Summerset has called for you," he told her. "You¡¯re toe up immediately."


    Was she in trouble? Liv had avoided being in the same ce as the baron since the day the sheriff and the mayor hade for her. She doubted it, however. The eruption was much more important than anything she¡¯d ever done. Liv grabbed her crutch from the floor under the table, and used it to help her stand. "These potatoes are done," she told Archibald. "They can go up."


    With an elegant ease born of years of service, the first footman bnced the tter on one hand, and even held the doors for her on their way up to the great hall. The double doors, reced since she¡¯d broken thest set, were already standing open, held in ce by wooden wedges against the floor. The hall itself was more full than Liv had ever seen it before, with all six of the low tables crammed with men sitting elbow to elbow, eating, drinking, and arguing.


    "With me," Archibald reminded her, and Liv followed him up the center aisle to the high table. "Miss Brodbeck," he announced. "As requested. And another serving of the potatoes you liked, Lady Julianne."


    "There is no need for this," Master Grenfell remarked, from his ce at Baron Summerset¡¯s left side. Next to him sat the mayor, and then Master Forester and his daughter. On the baron¡¯s right, his wife had her head together with an older woman that Liv didn¡¯t recognize, and just past her was Master Cushing, the Chirurgeon, and then the sheriff.


    "Thews of the kingdom are clear," Baron Henry said. "And we shall follow them. When a culling is needed, all members of the mage guild within three days¡¯ ride shall present themselves to the local lord for service. Your student is, as you all demonstrated, an apprentice of the guild. She must be here, and for once, her ce is at the high table. That is tradition, that mages are feasted in honor of their sacrifices."


    "Come sit next to Emma, Liv," Kale Forester called. Liv felt as if everyone¡¯s eyes were on her - not just at the high table, but all of the knights from the surrounding countryside, all across the valley, who sat at the low tables, as well. As quick as she could, Liv rounded the end of the table and sat next to the little girl she¡¯d yed dolls with in the Lower Banks. Why did everyone sit on only one side of the high table, facing the rest of the hall? There was no one to hide behind.


    "Liv!" Emma eximed, and gave her a hug. "You have toe visit us again." Liv wrapped an arm around the girl and squeezed her back.


    "How about next market day?" she suggested.


    "You¡¯re not seriously going to send the girl into the shoals, are you?" Lady Julianne asked her husband. A trencher was set in front of Liv - she was surprised to find the new footman, Edward, at her shoulder, pouring a goblet of watered wine.


    "Thew dictates that service shall be rendered," Baron Henry said. "But the nature of the service is left to the lord of the territory, who has responsibility for containing the rift. No, I will not take an untrained girl into the shoals," he said. "She would be more of a danger to us than a help. Liv Brodbeck, your task is this," he said, addressing her directly.


    Liv froze under the baron¡¯s gaze, her hand on the fork sticking out of a tter of brisket.


    "My wife is with child," the baron said. "If she were not, she woulde to the culling with us. As it is, Lady Julianne shall remain here to hold Castle Whitehill andmand the knights we leave behind. Every eruption, a small number of beasts make their way to the town, and must be dealt with. Apprentice Brodbeck, you are hereby assigned, as a member of the mages¡¯ guild, to protect my wife."


    "Of course, m¡¯lord," Liv managed to gasp out.


    "Now that that charade has been yed out," the mayor said. "Who will be on the culling team, and who will remain behind to protect the town?"


    "I will lead," Baron Henry said. "Kazamir, Rhea, and Kale wille with me."


    "Only four?" Sheriff Porter asked. "That is not a full culling party."


    "We will bring eight knights to guard our camp and supplies," the baron said. "But they will not go into the shoals with us. If we had more people with words, I wouldn¡¯t even bring you, Master Forester."


    "You¡¯d be a fool not to, m¡¯lord," the hunter said. "I¡¯ve killed more mana-beasts than you have." Ignoring the mayor¡¯s re, he took another spoonfull of beans and pulled pork, slopping it onto his te.


    "Master Cushing, you will remain here to care for my wife," Baron Henry continued, ignoring Forester¡¯s impertinence.


    "Would it not be better for me to go, and Rhea of Fairford to remain behind?" Aldo Cushing spoke up. "You may need the enchantments of the chirurgeon¡¯s guild, and a midwife should be more than adequate to birth a child."


    "I¡¯m pleased you think I¡¯m adequate," the woman Liv had not recognized spoke up, ring at Cushing.


    "You¡¯re too old now, Aldo," Henry said. "Even five years ago I would have taken you, but you won¡¯t be able to keep up. Give her a couple of your wands."


    "Those enchantments are licensed to the Order of Chirurgeons alone," Cushing replied. "If I gave any to her, I would be thrown out of the guild."


    "Then do your part, and see my wife safely delivered of an heir," Baron Henry shot back. "I expect toe back and find both her and my son healthy. Mistress Rhea will keep us alive."


    "I have charms enough to do that," Rhea of Fairford said. "And I know how to set a bone or stitch a wound well enough. The college saw to that."


    "I sometimes forget you finished a year at Coral Bay," Master Kazamirmented.


    Liv, in the meantime, had filled her te and was eating as quietly as she could, trying not to draw anyone¡¯s notice back to her. This was all very interesting, but she feltpletely out of ce in her dirty apron, fresh from the kitchen. Emma must have thought something of the same thing, for the little girl was upied smooshing potatoes on her te, rather than causing trouble.


    "I¡¯d like to leave my daughter here while we¡¯re gone," Master Forester said, and Liv felt Emma stiffen at her side. "My sister-inw is fine for a short hunting trip, but I can¡¯t ask her to take Emma on for this."


    "Of course," Lady Julianne said. "We will take good care of her here. She can stay with me."


    "I want to stay with Liv," Emma broke in. "How long will you be gone, Papa?"


    "Depends," Forester said. "Last time around it was maybe a week. Before you were born."


    "As long as it takes the flood of mana to recede," Master Grenfell said, "and the wave of maddened beasts to cken. There was one eruption under the old baron thatsted ten days. The guild has records of major riftssting a fortnight or more, but Bald Peak is nothing like those. And then, of course, in Varuna there are ces like Godsgrave, which is essentially under a constant state of eruption-"


    "That is not relevant to us today," Baron Henry broke in. Liv couldn¡¯t me him; she¡¯d been there while the mage went off on a tangent during their lessons. He could go for hours once he got the bit in his mouth, but it was always interesting. She especially liked to see the sour look on Mirabel Cooper¡¯s face when it happened. It urred to Liv that the two older girls would probably be furious that she was at the high table for this conversation, while they¡¯d obviously been left home.


    "If we are not back in twelve days, send word to Duke Thomas," Henry told his wife.


    "I won¡¯t stop with Thomas," Lady Julianne said. "I¡¯ll send word to Father and Uncle Caspian, as well."


    "That may be a bit extreme," the baron said. "In any event, we leave in the morning. The rest of the knights will remain here to reinforce the town. Sheriff Porter, you will assist my wife. In the event she is incapacitated, you will takemand until I return. Is everyone clear?"


    "And if the sheriff is killed or wounded?" Mayor Cooper asked. Baron Henry simply looked at him in silence for a long moment, and Liv could swear the man wilted like a flower in the heat of early harvest season. "So that there can be no confusion about the chain ofmand," he stammered.


    "The oldest surviving knight," the baron said. "Now let us enjoy the rest of this meal before we must throw ourselves into the shoals."


    To Liv¡¯s surprise, no one told her to leave now that the nning was done. She¡¯d had little enough to do with it all in the first ce, but the baron was a stickler for thew as written, and she supposed that included her right to remain until dessert.


    The final course was a surprise. Mama and Gretta must have been cooking it while she was eating up here, after Liv had left the kitchen. Fresh-baked apple and oat betty was brought up in dish after dish by the three footmen, beginning with the high table. The baron and Lady Julianne were served first, but there was still plenty to go around by the time it reached Liv and Emma, and her mouth watered when it came time for her turn.


    Steamingyers of rolled oats and apple preserves from the harvest, baked with cinnamon from Lendh ka Dakruim and drizzled with butter, were scooped onto her te, and then Emma¡¯s. With matching grins, they each dug into the messy, wonderful treats.


    By the time they were done, people had started to slip away from the feast. Liv noticed the mayor was gone, for one, and Master Cushing, as well. At the lower tables, the knights and the guardsmen who were not on duty were drinking, getting louder as the hours passed. Lady Julianne rose from her seat, which meant that everyone at the high table stood, as well, and when that had been noticed, everyone in the entire hall.


    "I believe it is time for me to turn in for the night," the baron¡¯s wife said, loud enough for her voice to carry.


    "Good evening," Baron Henry told her. "Get a full night¡¯s sleep."


    With a smile for the hall, Julianne made her way around the table toward Liv and Emma. Rhea, the midwife, followed her. "Why don¡¯t you two girlse with us up to my sitting room for a moment." Her voice was softer now, so that it was swallowed up by the noise of the feast resuming below.


    "Yes, mdy," Liv said, reaching under the table for her crutch and then rising.


    "I want to stay with Papa," Emma whined.


    "It¡¯ste," Master Forester told her. "I need to speak more with the baron. Lady Julianne will see you put to bed. Perhaps Miss Liv will join you for a story."


    "If you like," Liv told the younger girl. "We might also be able to find one of the cats."


    "Alright then," Emma said. "If there will be cats." She permitted Liv to take her hand, and the two girls followed Lady Julianne to her chambers. By the time they¡¯d arrived, Emma was already yawning, and Liv suspected that she was not used to staying awake sote in the evening. Liv saw that a cot had been brought into the sitting room and made up with sheets and a wool nket, and into this Emma was deposited.


    "Now that she¡¯s asleep," Lady Julianne said, lowering herself into a cushioned chair, "we can speak."


    "I don¡¯t really understand what I can do to help," Liv said, honestly. "I can hardly use magic at all, mdy."


    "I know that," Julianne admitted. "But I also think you have a good heart, Liv. And with my husband going off to cull the rift, I have very few people here that I can trust."


    Liv frowned. "But you¡¯re the baron¡¯s wife, mdy," she said. "Won¡¯t everyone do what you say?"


    "If only it were that simple," Lady Julianne said. "I have enemies, dear girl. Here, and elsewhere in the kingdom."


    "She doesn¡¯t know who you are, does she?" Rhea, the midwife, asked. "Girl, this is the king¡¯s daughter."

 16. The Princess that Never Was

    "You¡¯re a princess!" Liv eximed.


    "No," Lady Julianne said, with a sigh. "I am not a princess. My mother was the king¡¯s mistress, Liv. That makes me a bastard, just like you." The baron¡¯s wife waved her hand at a finely carved wooden bench with stuffed cushions arranged atop it, and Liv took a seat, leaving her crutch on the floor at her feet.


    "Begging your pardon," she said, "but unless you were scrubbing chamber pots in the pce, mdy, we¡¯re not entirely alike."


    Rheaughed out loud, taking another chair for her own. "She has you there, Julie," she said. "The royal pce is not the same as a castle kitchen."


    "Perhaps I have misspoken," Lady Julianne admitted. "The point is that I am not a princess; I could never be a princess, and there was never any world in which I would inherit anything from my father. Any property, at any rate. My husband has been paid a handsome dowry, and Father was generous enough with wedding gifts. I¡¯m certain he¡¯ll wish to send a few things for his grandson, as well. In that way, we¡¯re simr. Let¡¯s say you were to go north, Liv, and find your father. What do you think would happen?"


    Liv shrugged, and looked down at the floor. "I don¡¯t know," she admitted.


    "I would advise you to temper your expectations," Lady Julianne said. "Men are all honeyed words when they¡¯re trying to get what they want, but they don¡¯t like the mess thates after. Something to remember when you¡¯re older. Now. Do you have your book with you?"


    "I left it down in the kitchen," Liv said. "I wasn¡¯t sure why I was being called for."


    Lady Julianne looked over to Rhea. "Would you mind ringing the bell?"


    "It would do you good to walk around," the midwife chastised her, but rose and crossed the room anyway. She gave a tug on the rope which would ring a bell in the kitchen. "Has Kazamir taught you sigils yet, girl?"


    "No," Liv said. "He won¡¯t let me. Says it¡¯s too dangerous."


    "He¡¯s drilled proper V?dic pronunciation into your head, at least?" The older woman settled back into her chair. "C¡¯s are always hard, never soft? All of that?"


    Liv nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mistress."


    "Good." Rhea nodded. "I¡¯m going to write a few charms in your book for you. Low magic to slow bleeding, and to close a wound. If you¡¯re as sharp as everyone says you are, you won¡¯t have a problem using them."


    "We hope they won¡¯t be needed," Lady Julianne broke in. "But it is always good to be prepared. You aren¡¯t going to be fighting anything, Liv, you understand that? We have plenty of guards to protect the town, and knights tomand them. Every man of age will take shifts on the walls."


    "I understand," Liv said. "I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be very good at it anyway."


    "What we want you to do," Lady Julianne said, "is to pay attention, and to tell me about anything odd. You¡¯re clearly observant - you noticed the bat, that morning, and you were the only one who saw little Emma fall. Pay attention just like you normally would, bute to me directly if you think something is strange. Can you do that?"


    "I can, mdy," Liv said. A knock came from the chamber door.


    "Come in," Lady Julianne called, and Sophie entered. As soon as she saw Liv, sitting with women above her station, the maid¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Sophie, dear, please run down and fetch Miss Brodbeck¡¯s books from the kitchen; we¡¯re going to need them up here."


    "Of course, mdy." Sophie gave a perfect curtsy and ducked back out the door, but Liv could tell she was boiling inside.


    "I¡¯m not happy with your husband," Rhea said to Julianne, once they were alone again. "The entire reason I never joined the guild is that I didn¡¯t want to be forced onto culling teams. I came here to birth a baby, not fight overgrown cave worms."


    "I know, and I apologize," Julianne said. "I do see his point. Aldo is getting a bit long in the tooth. Help me loosen my bodice?" She turned in her chair so that the midwife could get at theces on her back.


    "You¡¯ll be going to Coral Bay, in a few years?" Rhea asked Liv. She stood behind Julianne and began untying the knots that held her silkces tight.


    Liv nodded, then realized the midwife wasn¡¯t looking at her. "When I¡¯m grown, Master Jurian said. What is it like?"


    "It is the best ce to learn about magic in the world," Rhea said. "Though I¡¯ve never been north, so I suppose I can¡¯t speak to the Eld. I stayed for a year, which was long enough to understand the guild wasn¡¯t for me."


    "Have you ever regretted it?" Julianne asked. "My uncle told me it was a waste to leave and get married."


    "No," Rhea said with certainty. "I¡¯ve delivered hundreds of children. I get to see them running around underfoot whatever neighborhood I visit. I¡¯m even delivering the children of the babies I delivered years ago, now, like this one." She yfully batted her hand against Lady Julianne¡¯s shoulder. "There¡¯s something satisfying about that."


    Julianne turned to Liv and smiled. "She won¡¯t ever let me forget it."


    "I was being tutored by Magia Annora when the king called for her," Rhea exined, taking her seat again. "She took me by waystone, which was an experience, let me tell you. Only time I¡¯ve ever been to the capital. I just kept my mouth shut, didn¡¯t look anyone in the eye, and caught this one on her way out. She had good lungs even then."


    "That¡¯s actually one of the reasons I epted Henry¡¯s offer," Lady Julianne said. "Annora told me that you lived up here in the mountains. I thought you would be at least one person I could trust." Her eyes flicked back to Liv. "If she¡¯s still there when you get to the college, go and find Magia Annora, and tell her I sent you."


    "Yes, mdy," Liv said. There was another knock at the door, and Sophia delivered her books to her, then left, avoiding eye contact the entire time.


    "Good," Rhea said, holding out her hand. Liv handed her the leather book with all the nk pages. "Julie, you have a quill and ink? I¡¯ll just put these in the back. I see your master has already left some notes for you there." The midwife took Liv¡¯s book over to a small wooden desk set against one wall of the sitting room, and began to work.


    Liv had more questions than she could count. Who was Magia Annora, exactly? How did waystones work? What was the capital like? Why would Lady Juliannee all the way out here and get married if she could have been a mage in the guild? She kept her mouth closed, however. It wasn¡¯t the ce of a servant girl to ask questions of thedy of the house. And ady who was the king¡¯s daughter!


    Finally, the midwife finished writing, set aside her quill, and capped the bottle of ink she¡¯d been using. She blew gently over the pages of Liv¡¯s book, to make certain the writing was dry enough, then closed it and brought it over to where Liv was sitting.


    "I hope you don¡¯t need to use those," Rhea said. "But it¡¯s best you practice them if you get the opportunity. If someone cuts themself on a knife in the kitchen, pull your book out and give it a try. You never want to be attempting magic for the first time when you¡¯re panicked."


    "Yes, mistress," Liv said, sping her books under her arm. She reached down to the floor to lift the crutch, and stood. "Is there anything else, mdy?"


    "No, go and get some sleep, dear," Julianne told her. "Rhea and I have more to speak about, and I think we¡¯re all going to be very busy for the next few days."


    It really was quitete, by that point. When Liv made her way down the stairs and into the servants¡¯ quarters, she couldn¡¯t hear anyone else moving around. She¡¯d just got to her own room, and was juggling her books and crutch to reach the door handle, when she heard the creak of a door opening just down the hall.


    "Don¡¯t get above yourself, little miss," Sophie hissed. Liv flinched back into her door. The maid was dressed for bed, wearing only a shift and a night cap, but her eyes were hard. "You aren¡¯t better than us. No matter how much time you spend upstairs."


    "Leave me alone," Liv told her. She opened the door to her room, slipped through, and closed it behind her. For a long moment, she worried that Sophie would try to follow her, or start banging on the door, but the girl must have gone back to her own room. There was only silence, and then a meow from her bed. "Charlie!" Liv called out to the cat. At least she wouldn¡¯t be sleeping alone.


    ?


    The next morning, Liv was drafted to help with the morning meal, while Sophie was set to cleaning the chamber pots again. It made sense: Sophie didn¡¯t know how to cook, and she wouldn¡¯t have been much help to Mama and Gretta. Liv was certain it was only going to make the older girl more angry with her.


    Liv was just pulling three fresh loaves of bread away from the hearth to cool when a knock came at the kitchen door. First Footman Archibald set aside his cup of tea and went to go and see who it was. A momentter, he called out, "Miss Brodbeck,e out and speak with Master Grenfell for a moment."


    She slipped out into the hall, where the mage waited for her. "Master Mage," she greeted him, and curtsied. She was really starting to get the hang of doing it with a crutch.


    "What are you doing in the kitchen?" Grenfell asked her, with a frown. "I looked for you upstairs in the great hall."


    "I was helping Mama and Greta," Liv told him. Where else should she have been?


    Grenfell shook his head. "The baron has assigned you a task as an apprentice of the mage¡¯s guild. That takes precedence over any other duties. Get your spell book ande along with me. You¡¯re wearing your ring?" She nodded. "Leave the apron."


    Liv ducked back into the kitchen. "I¡¯m sorry Mama," she called, "Master Grenfell needs me upstairs." She hobbled over to her room, threw the dirty apron on her bed, snatched up her book, and hurried back out to where Master Grenfell waited for her.


    "Come along," he said, and set off toward the courtyard. Liv saw that he was dressed differently than usual, in a heavy wool cloak and stout leather boots meant for trudging through snow. A pair of fur-lined leather gloves were tucked into his belt, and the metal-shod tip of his staff rung against the floor of the castle with every pace.


    "The culling team is leaving as soon as the sleighs are loaded," Grenfell exined. "Which should not be much longer. Until we return, you should report to Lady Julianne every morning and do whatever she asks of you. Do you recall when I made you promise not to use magic without my permission, and not within the castle?"


    "I do," Liv said, following him out into the courtyard. There was a stiff morning breeze, and it caught up a scatter of snow and ice and swept it into their faces. If she¡¯d known that she¡¯d be going outside, she would have grabbed her winter cloak, as well.


    "You are released from your promise for the duration of the eruption," Grenfell said. "You understand? These men on the walls should kill anything that makes it this far," the master mage said, waving his hand up at the parapets of the curtain walls that protected Castle Whitehill. There were more men than Liv had ever seen up there before, all carrying crossbows. "If something doese over the wall, the first thing you do is lock yourselves behind a door. If a mana-beastes through the door, do not hesitate. Perhaps Jurian was thinking ahead after all."


    The three sleighs which had been offering rides at the Frost Fair were lined up in the courtyard, with a pair of horses hitched to each. A bustle of castle guards were loading packs of supplies into each one, while a knot of people huddled together against the cold wind. Rhea was there, and she smiled at Liv when their eyes met. Master Forester was holding little Emma against his chest, and the two were speaking too quietly for Liv to hear over the wind. The woodsman had a hunting knife at his belt, a quiver of arrows on his back, and a great longbow next to him, leaning against the second sleigh.


    Of those going, Baron Henry and his knights were the most heavily armed. Each of them wore a jack of te: a padded doublet with metal tes sewn into it for protection. Henry wore a rapier at his hip, while his knights carried a variety of weapons, including wicked looking spiked metal balls and hammers.


    "Be safe," Lady Julianne told her husband. Liv came to a halt next to Master Grenfell, only a few steps away.


    "We will be back soon," Baron Henry said. "I expect to find both my wife and my child in good health, Master Cushing."


    "I assure you, I will take the best possible care of them," the old chirurgeon said, giving a bow.


    "Very well. We are off!" Henry and the others began mbering into the sleighs.


    "Take care of yourself," Grenfell told Liv, hesitating a moment. "If I do not return, I expect that Baron Henry will find a new court mage. You can learn from them as easily as from me. Until they arrive, however, make certain my rooms are sealed. There are objects in my possession that could be dangerous in the wrong hands."


    "Yes, Master," Liv said, though she could not imagine how she would ever convince the baron to do anything that he didn¡¯t already want to do. Grenfell climbed into the leftmost sleigh, leaving only Emma and her father.


    "Go with Liv now," Master Forester said, attempting to set his daughter down on the ground. She clung to him with both arms and legs, refusing to be dislodged.


    "Come along Emma," Lady Julianne said, stepping forward to take hold of the girl. "Liv, help me."


    "If youe downstairs with me," Liv offered, "you can meet my doll, Rosie. And we could find Charlie. He¡¯s a ck cat who purrs very loudly. Would you like that?" Emma shook her head, but finally wrapped her arms around Liv¡¯s waist and clung to her.


    "I¡¯ll be back soon enough," Kale Forester told his daughter. "You¡¯ll be safe here. I¡¯m jealous! You get to live in the castle, while I¡¯m wandering around freezing my beard off!" Before Emma could run back to him, the hunter climbed into the nearest sleigh, settling his unstrung bow across hisp.


    In all the sleighs, the culling team pulled furs over theirps and huddled in their cloaks, to guard against the cold wind. With shouts, the drivers got the horse teams moving, and the sleighs scraped across the cold stones of the courtyard, and out into the street. Liv, Emma, Lady Julianne and Master Cushing watched them leave, until the castle guards swung the gate shut and blocked their sight.


    Liv couldn¡¯t remember thest time the castle gates had been closed during the day.


    "Come along inside," Lady Julianne said. "Have you eaten yet, Liv? There¡¯s plenty of food." Emma, silently crying, allowed herself to be herded into the great hall, where she was eventually distracted by a te heaped with sausages.


    Though she still wasn¡¯tfortable eating upstairs, Liv was hungry, so she set her book down next to her te and began the process of filling her belly. She flipped first to the charms Rhea the midwife had set down for her, the night before, whispering them to herself to try out the pronunciation. But no one had a cut or a bruise to practice on, so she flipped back to the bank of words that Master Jurian had provided her with.


    "Master Grenfell told me I should report to you each morning," Liv said, checking with Lady Julianne to make certain it was actually alright for her not to be downstairs.


    "That is correct," the baron¡¯s wife assured her. "For the most part, I am going to be keeping you with me. For now, I wonder if you might introduce Emma to your mother? I suspect she would enjoy spending time in the kitchen. Why don¡¯t the two of you meet me back here for the midday meal? I have a few things to talk over with the sheriff, and he should be here shortly."


    "Of course, mdy," Liv said. She closed her book, grabbed her crutch, and turned to Emma. "Let¡¯s leave Lady Juliannne to her business, shall we?"


    "Don¡¯t wanna," Emma grumped. "I want to go home." She refused to take Liv¡¯s hand, crossing her arms. Lady Julianne and Master Cushing, in the meanwhile, were already on their way out of the great hall.


    "What if I promise you a surprise?" Liv offered.


    Emma looked up with interest. "What kind of surprise?" the girl asked.


    Liv smiled. "How would you like to see magic?"

 17. The Winter Garden

    "I¡¯ll save you a special helping of dessert," Liv offered.


    Piers groaned, and she was pretty sure she had him. She and Emma had waited until the guard wasing off duty, and caught him at the entrance to the barracks. He was still wearing his armor, a jack of te in the white and green of Baron Henry¡¯s heraldry, and he¡¯d leaned his crossbow over his shoulder. "What do you even need it for?" he asked the two girls.


    "I need to practice my magic," Liv said, leaving the details vague. "I have permission from Master Mage Grenfell to do it inside the castle grounds, until the eruption is over. Anyway, you haven¡¯t used any of those old shields for years. I¡¯m surprised no one¡¯s gotten rid of them."


    "They¡¯re no good against modern crossbows," Piers exined. "Since they started making the winss models in the capital a few years back, there¡¯s no point." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I¡¯ll loan the two of you a shield, under two conditions," the guard decided. "First, I¡¯m going to check with Master Grenfell when he gets back, so if you¡¯re lying about having his permission, just understand he¡¯s going to find out."


    "That¡¯s fine," Liv said. She was nearlypletely certain that the older mage wouldn¡¯t mind what she was doing, and that he might even approve. He¡¯d told her to make a spell that wasn¡¯t for killing things.


    "Second," the guard said, then paused. He looked around, found no one in earshot, and leaned down closer to Liv. When he spoke, he¡¯d lowered his voice. "I want your help with Sophie."


    "Sophie?" Liv frowned. "Help how? Has she been mean to you?"


    "No, nothing like that," Piers said. "She just doesn¡¯t seem to pay me much notice. I want you to find out what she likes, and tell me. What¡¯s her favorite flower? What food does she like?"


    "You¡¯re sweet on her?" Liv burst out. Were they truly talking about the same girl? The one who always looked like she¡¯d just bit into a lemon?


    Piers shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I think she¡¯s pretty," he said.


    At Liv¡¯s side, Emma giggled. Liv couldn¡¯t decide whether it would be better to give Piers what he wanted, or to warn him off before he found out what the grumpy maid was really like. On the other hand, it urred to her, if Sophie was paying attention to someone courting her, perhaps she would have less time for bothering other people.


    "You have a deal," Liv said, extending her hand. A few momentster, she and Emma were walking away from the barracks, lugging a round wooden shield between them. It was a bit dusty, with visible rust on the metal rim, but Piers had assured her it was the best he could find. It was heavy, but if Liv hadn¡¯t needed to manage the crutch at the same time, it wouldn¡¯t have been so bad. As it was, she held it on one side, Emma on the other, and they had to put it down to rest twice before they made it to the castle gardens.


    By the end of flood season, the gardens would be green and full of life, ande harvest the air would be heavy with the scent of herbs and fruits. At just the turn of the season, however, everything was still covered in snow and ice, and the slope of the gardens made for treacherous walking.


    When Castle Whitehill had first been built, on the heights overlooking the Aspen River, the masons¡¯ guild had to makepromises. Archibald had exined to Liv once that easily leveled ground was in short supply, and she recalled his words now as she exined to Emma.


    "They need it to be t in the courtyard, for instance," Liv said, huffing and out of breath by the time they finally set down the shield at the highest point of the gardens. "For sleighs and carriages and things toe in and out. They need it t in the training yard, where the guards practice. But they didn¡¯t need the gardens t, so they put them here."


    Below them, icy paths of stones wound down among boulders that had been left artfully arranged. The paths separated small plots ofnd, so that potatoes were grown in one ce, onions in another, then sage, thyme, garlic, mustard and so on. There were even two small groves of trees set aside, branches lined with ice that sparkled in the sun: one for peaches, the other for apples.


    "You said there was going to be magic," Emma reminded her. "Not a stupid garden."


    "There will be," Liv promised her, and retrieved a folded up piece of paper from where she¡¯d stuffed it into the pocket she wore beneath her skirts. On one side was her work on the Frozen Shards spell; on the other were the notes she¡¯d made before they set out to acquire the old shield.


    Unlike Frozen Shards, this time Liv was starting from scratch. The base was her word of power, of course. The second piece hade from a list of shapes that Master Jurian had left her: Belia, which was the word for a bowl. Mac was an adjective that described a noun as particrly long and thin. Once she had those three pieces, the rest was just working through the conjugation and cases. She hoped.


    Liv took a deep breath, held it, and released. When Master Grenfell had first started forcing her to perform the breathing exercises, she¡¯d thought them pointless, but they really did help to calm her nerves now. After the third breath, she stretched out her hand and sung from her belly, allowing the sounds to vibrate through her, down to the blood and bones, as the magic moved.


    "Celet Aimac Belia o¡¯Mae." The word roared up from the back of Liv¡¯s mind like the river in flood, and poured out of her. Before she lost the feeling, Liv dropped to her knees, throwing aside her crutch, and touched the ground. Mana spilled out through her hand, freezing as it went, like a drop of water running down the side of a goblet and leaving a trail behind.


    Within only the span of a few breaths, a long path of ice snaked its way down from the highest point of the garden, to the lowest, curving around trees and boulders. Rather than being t, like the frozen river at the Frost Fair, the path was curved up at the sides, reaching two feet or more off the ground in some ces. It was as if she had taken a bowl, melted it, and then stretched it with her hands.


    Next to Liv, Emma pped her hands and grinned. "Liv, that¡¯s amazing," she cried. "You¡¯re a real mage!"


    Liv dropped back onto her butt, breathing as heavily as if she¡¯d run up and down the servants¡¯ stairs five times. She tried to guess just how much of her mana she¡¯d just used. Could she cast the same spell again? Maybe. If she did, however, she had a sneaking suspicion that she would pass out. Call it six rings of mana - that was half of what Master Grenfell had measured her at. She had the sense that if she¡¯d used the spell for something smaller, it wouldn¡¯t have been nearly so much.


    "Now," she said, once she could speak again. "Are you ready?"


    Together, the two girls wrestled the shield, face down, onto the ice. Liv crouched over Emma, both of them griping the leather straps of the shield with one hand, and keeping hold of the ice itself with the other. "On three," Liv said. "One. Two. Three!"


    The girls pushed off the ice, and the shield shot off, fast as a crossbow bolt. Liv couldn¡¯t help but scream as they went, careening down the ice to the first curve, where the shield nearly went up and over the outer edge. She needed to make the outside of the curves higher, Liv noted in the back of her mind. It was toote to do anything now; she¡¯d just have to hope they made it safely down to the bottom.


    The shield spun as it came out of the first turn, and didn¡¯t stop, so that Liv had to squeeze her eyes shut against a sudden wave of dizziness. Emma, on the other hand, never stoppedughing and squealing with joy. On the second turn, they came close enough to the lowest branches of a peach tree that Liv had to duck her head. Finally, the shield slid directly up the end of the ice with such great speed that, instead of slowing and sliding back down, they went right over the top andnded with a crash in the snow that covered a garden bed. Exhausted, sore, and thrilled, Liv rolled off the shield into the snow, unable to care that she was getting her clothes soaked.


    "That was the best thing ever!" Emma shouted, leaping up off the shield and dancing around in the snow. "Again! Again!"


    Liv raised her head and looked back up to where they¡¯d begun, and realized that she¡¯d left her crutch there. She groaned and let her head fall back into the snow.


    ?


    By the time the girls were wanted in the great hall for the midday meal with Lady Julianne, they had used the shield to slide down through the castle gardens at least half a dozen times. After being forced to half hop, half crawl her way back the first time, Liv had taken to sliding her crutch down the ice ahead of them, then picking it up at the bottom for the return trip. They lugged the shield back to the barracks, where they¡¯d left it leaning against the outer wall, and then dragged themselves back into the keep. Liv was just getting Emma¡¯s wet cloak off her when Lady Julianne, Master Cushing, and Sheriff Porter entered the hall.


    "What in the name of the trinity has been going on here?" Cushing demanded.


    "Liv used magic to put ice all down the gardens and then we rode a shield down! It spun us all around and we went so fast, it was amazing!" Emma shouted, bouncing up and down. Liv arranged their sopping cloaks near the great hearth, so that the wool could begin to dry out.


    "Miss Brodbeck," the chirurgeon began, rounding on her. "You know that you are too delicate for such things. You broke a leg falling down half a flight of stairs when you were seven," he reminded her. "And your ankle has not even finished healing! Sit down and let me examine your bones."


    "I feel fine," Liv said. "Maybe the special food is helping?" She found a seat at the table, however, and sat still while Master Cushing began feeling along her arms and legs for a break.


    "It has been one month," the old chirurgeon said. "If your ankle hasn¡¯t had time to heal, do you really think your entire bone structure has changed? Don¡¯t be foolish, girl. Does any of this hurt?"


    "No," Liv lied. She was pretty certain that she was only bruised: after the first run, they¡¯d piled up an especially deep cushion of snow at theirnding spot.


    "Now that is settled," Lady Julianne broke in, "how much of your mana did you keep in reserve?" The servants¡¯ door opened, and the footmen began carrying in dish after dish of food,ying the first course out at the high table. A few of the knights who were not currently standing a watch on the castle walls began to filter in, finding ces to sit at the lower tables.


    "About half, I think," Liv answered.


    "Good." Julianne nodded. "Eat a full meal, then, to help you recover. Make certain you have some of the garlic-crusted potatoes, here - I made certain your mother and Gretta would use the herbs Rhea brought over, so they¡¯re infused with a bit of mana. None of that for you, Emma, just Liv and I. Liv, I¡¯m making a rule for you right now, for the duration of the eruption: you¡¯re free to experiment with your magic, so long as you don¡¯t hurt yourself, anyone else, or break anything. But I don¡¯t want you to ever use more than half your mana. Keep the rest ready in case you need it."


    "Yes, mdy," Liv said, watching as Tom spooned a great helping of the potatoes onto her te. It felt very strange to have someone else serving her.


    "Patients," Master Cushingined, settling in for his own meal. "Patients are what drives me to drink. The both of you. Lady Julianne, you should consider my suggestion again."


    "When my husband returns," Julianne said. "I don¡¯t have time right now."


    "You are already days overdue," Cushing argued. "And your husband could be gone for a ten-day or more. Ifbor does not begin within two days, you need to let me perform surgery."


    "Four days," Lady Julianne countered.


    "Two," Cushing shot back. "This is not a negotiation, it is your life, and the life of your child."


    "I can handle the guards," Sheriff Porter said. Liv had noticed the man hardly ever spoke, unless he was asked a question directly. "The walls will hold, mdy. Do not put yourself at risk."


    "We are all at risk until this eruption is over," Julianne grumbled. "Fine. Two days. Liv, I am interviewing candidates to serve as mydy¡¯s maid this afternoon. You will attend me."


    "I want to y with Liv more," Emmained.


    "You," Julianne said, "will go with Master Cushing for an examination, as long as you are here anyway. Until your father returns, I shall take my responsibility to him seriously. It is the least I can do while he is fighting for us. Aldo, you will inform me immediately if you find anything to be concerned about."


    "Yes, mydy," the chirurgeon said.


    "Sheriff, you have themand while I am conducting interviews," Lady Julianne said.


    The meal passed quickly after that, and Liv did find that the herbed potatoes helped her to feel a little more full. She went back for a second helping: if they were making it so that she recovered mana more quickly, then eating more would only speed things up. After everyone had finished, and the footmen began clearing the table, she followed Lady Julianne up to her sitting room.


    "Come and sit next to me," Julianne said, patting the cushioned bench. Emma¡¯s bed was the only thing in the entire room that did not speak to wealth and luxury; Liv worried that the skirts she¡¯d worn outdoors to y with Emma would stain the cushions, but thedy of the castle didn¡¯t seem concerned. Even the candles were scented with spices!


    "First Footman Archibald will bring one candidate up at a time," Lady Julianne exined. "You will watch and listen. After each woman leaves, you will tell me your thoughts."


    "If you like, mdy," Liv said, but she didn¡¯t understand why the baron¡¯s wife would want her opinion, of all people.


    "If you are going to be a mage," Julianne exined, "you are going to need to judge people. Some can be trusted, and some cannot. The sooner you learn to notice which is which, the better."


    The process was tedious, and it took hours. Liv soon realized why Lady Julianne had set aside an entire afternoon for interviews, and even why she might have been avoiding the process until now. Frequently, Liv wished that she had brought her books, so that she could upy her mind puzzling how to put a new spell together.


    Instead, after every applicant, Lady Julianne quizzed her: "What did you notice about her clothes," she might say, or "Think about the way she talked. What does that tell us?"


    "The hem of her skirt was fraying," Liv answered, describing a middle-aged woman named Meredith. "And the sleeves of her shift. They¡¯re old."


    "And she would have worn her best here, today," Julianne pointed out. "She¡¯s desperate."


    "Does that mean you shouldn¡¯t hire her?" Liv asked.


    "That depends. Helping her now could earn her loyalty forever," the baron¡¯s wife mused. "Or, if she¡¯s in great debt, she might be tempted to steal from us, like Bill did."


    To Liv¡¯s surprise, Sophie was one of the women applying for the job. When she entered the room, their eyes met for an ufortable moment, and then Liv looked down at herp. Afterward, when Lady Julianne asked her what she thought, she had a difficult time choosing what to say. Finally, she decided to just be honest.


    "She hasn¡¯t been very happy with me,tely," Liv said. "I used to think she was nice, but she¡¯s been jealous. Oh, and Piers, the guardsman? He likes her. He wants to court her, I think."


    "I can handle jealousy," Julianne promised. "In fact, regardless of my decision, I will have a talk with her. I will not allow strife under my roof. Best to end trouble while it is small, before it bes something greater. Next," she called, and the door swung open again.


    Liv gasped, then struggled to keep her expression nk. The girl who¡¯de through the door, and offered a perfect curtsy, was just a little older than she was, and skinny. Liv was certain that if her cap was removed, her hair would be cut very close to her head.


    It was the girl she¡¯d seen in an alley in the Lower Banks, talking to Little Whit and Bill.

 18. A Beast at the Walls

    "Thank you foring to speak with me today," Lady Julianne said. They were the same words that Liv had heard her repeat half a dozen times, for every woman who came through the sitting room door.


    "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, mdy," the girl replied, making a curtsy. Liv judged her to be a year or two older than Mirabel and Griselda, but no more. She was nearly as skinny as Liv was, withrge dark eyes that seemed to take all the attention from the rest of her face. The eyes might have been the prettiest thing about her, if they weren¡¯t so cold.


    "Your name?" Julianne asked.


    "Josephine, mdy," the girl from the alley replied. "But everyone calls me Jo." Liv ignored the rest of the conversation: if Lady Julienne wanted her to pay attention to what she saw, then she was going to look for every scrap of information she could. The girl¡¯s fingernails looked like they¡¯d been bitten down, rather than neatly trimmed. Her clothes were clean, but they didn¡¯t quite fit. Either she¡¯d just bought them, Liv decided, or she¡¯d borrowed them. It certainly wasn¡¯t the same dress she¡¯d been wearing in the alley: that had been old, worn, and filthy. She didn¡¯t smile with her teeth showing, and that was odd.


    Open your mouth, Liv found herself thinking. What are you hiding? Finally, when Jo told the baron¡¯s wife, "I left Carinthia because it was just too hot there," Liv got a look. The girl¡¯s teeth were horrible - yellow and crooked, as if they¡¯d never been scrubbed a day in her life. They were the teeth of a beggar in an alley.


    As far as Liv was concerned, Josephine couldn¡¯t be gone soon enough. The moment the door was closed, she spoke up. "I¡¯ve seen her before," Liv said. "In the Lower Banks, with Little Whit and Bill, who used to be a footman here. She was wearing a different dress, not nearly as nice as this one. Did you notice it doesn¡¯t fit her right? I wonder if she borrowed it just toe here. Her nails are bit down, not trimmed, and her teeth are horrible."


    "Well, that is quite a lot," Julianne said. "Bill, you say? The footman who helped rob us?"


    "That¡¯s him," Liv said. "I saw them all huddled together in an alley when Master Jurian took me to Master Forester¡¯s home. I don¡¯t trust them. What should we do, mdy?"


    "Well, the first thing is that I¡¯m certainly not going to hire her," Lady Julianne said. "I don¡¯t know that I would have, anyway, but you¡¯ve settled it. Thank you for speaking up, Liv. This is exactly the sort of thing I wanted you to be paying attention to. Just to be careful, I¡¯ll tell the castle guards she isn¡¯t to be admitted if shees around again, either."


    Liv let out a sigh of relief, and found she was finally able to rx back into the cushions. "That makes me feel better," she admitted out loud. "She makes me nervous. Have you decided on a maid, then, mdy?"


    "That is going to depend on the oue of a conversation," Julianne exined. "One that you should not be present for. I am going to give Sophie a choice."


    "Sophie?" Liv couldn¡¯t help herself, even though she had no right. "Really?"


    "She is either going to walk out of this room ady¡¯s maid, having put her foolishness behind her, or she is going to leave the castle dismissed from service," Lady Julianne said, and her tone of voice made Liv shiver. "I won¡¯t tolerate jealousy or grudges among the staff. Either way, Liv, she won¡¯t be bothering you any further. Why don¡¯t you go see how Emma got on with Master Cushing, and then perhaps take her down to the kitchen for a treat?"


    "As you like, mdy," Liv said. She fetched her crutch from where she¡¯d stashed it under the bench; she was sick and tired of always having to find a ce to put the thing. The day she got rid of it couldn¡¯te soon enough.


    She fetched Emma from Master Cushing¡¯s chambers, with a promise to the chirurgeon to make sure she ate more fruits and vegetables. "Her father¡¯s likely been feeding her almost entirely on game meat," the old man was grumbling as the two girls left.


    In the kitchen, they found that Sophie was absent, and Liv wondered how her conversation with Lady Julianne was going. In some ways, it would be easier if the maid left the castle and never came back, but Liv didn¡¯t know what she would do for work without this position. She didn¡¯t like Sophie much, but she also didn¡¯t want the girl to starve on the street.


    Mama and Gretta were in the middle of making the evening meal, and they were happy enough to let Liv and Emma help. The younger girl was mostly confined to stirring things, while Liv was put to work chopping vegetables. She¡¯d just emptied a pile of carrots into the stewpot when Sophie made her appearance at the kitchen door.


    "Lady Julianne wants you upstairs. She said you should fetch your winter cloak, as well." The maid looked as if she was chewing on something she didn¡¯t like. She must have been told to leave, Liv decided. She grabbed her crutch from where she¡¯d leaned it against the table, and headed for her room. It would be good to bring her book, in case she was in for another few hours of sitting quietly while the baron¡¯s wife handled the business of the castle.


    "Liv." Sophie caught her by the shoulder, on her way into the servants¡¯ hall. "I won¡¯t give you any more trouble."


    Surprised, Liv froze. She¡¯d been expecting the girl to leave, but it didn¡¯t sound like that was going to be the case. "You¡¯re going to be Lady Julianne¡¯s maid?"


    "I want that more than I care about you," Sophie said. "I still think you¡¯re getting above yourself, and that it won¡¯t end well. But if I have to hold my tongue to advance myself, then I¡¯ll do it." Sophie released her arm, turned, and hurried down the hall and into the kitchen. It wasn¡¯t an apology, exactly, but Liv decided that if it meant the girl would no longer bother her, that was good enough. She grabbed her book, then headed to the great hall, where her cloak had been drying since the midday meal.


    When Liv caught up with her, Lady Julianne was pulling on a heavy cloak and leather gloves while Master Cushing argued with her. Liv slipped into the sitting room and waited for it to be over.


    "...no matter what happens, you cannot use any words of power," Cushing said. Liv had missed the beginning, so she wasn¡¯t entirely clear on what he meant by that. Come to think of it, she¡¯d never seen Lady Julianne use magic at all. But words of power, plural? Did she know more than one? Perhaps she¡¯d learned them at the college.


    "I understand that," Lady Julianne said. "You may be certain that I am fully educated on the risks."


    "If you are, you should leave that wand here in this room," the chirurgeon shot back.


    "Enough!" Julianne nearly shouted. "I¡¯ve been asked for at the northern wall, and I shall go. I will not go unarmed in the middle of an eruption. But you may be assured I will do nothing save in thest defense of my life. That is the end of it."


    Cushing rounded on Liv, crossed the room, and seized her arm, lifting it up. "Mana sickness," he said, and Liv flinched. Her flesh was still raw and tender beneath the bandages, and his grasp hurt. "You know what it does, you¡¯ve felt my knife." The old chirurgeon dropped her arm, and pointed at Lady Julianne. "Do not let her use magic. The mana could spill out of control and hurt the child. You understand?"


    Liv tried to imagine Master Cushing holding a screaming infant down on a table, cutting skin from its arm. "I won¡¯t," she promised. "I¡¯ll use my own spell first."


    "No one is going to have to cast anything," Julianne grumbled. "That¡¯s what we have crossbows for. Come along, Liv."


    The baron¡¯s carriage was waiting for them in the courtyard, and two of the castle guards rode on the sides as they thundered through the streets of Whitehill. The carriage driver screamed at people to make way, and the ride shook even worse than usual with the speed they moved over the cobblestones.


    "Is this good for the baby?" Liv shouted over the racket.


    "If a carriage ride gets the child out sooner, all the better," Julianne shot back.


    Liv felt like her teeth were about to fall out by the time they made it to the northern wall of the town, at the foot of the hill. There, she followed Lady Julianne up to the parapet.


    It was the first time she¡¯d ever been up on the walls that surrounded the town. Liv and her mother left the castle only rarely, with their duties keeping them busy save for on market days. When they did have time for themselves, they spent it picking in the mountains, swimming in the river, or shopping. Even if they had wanted to climb the walls to get a look at the surrounding valley, the town guards would never have let them pass.


    Getting up the steps was difficult with her crutch, but one of the guards took Liv¡¯s arm and helped her. Once she got to the top, she saw a cluster of armed men with crossbows trained on something down below, just outside the walls. Sheriff Porter was there waiting, and pointed out what everyone was watching once Liv and Lady Julianne hade over.


    "There," he said. "Prowling about the base of the walls. It was first sighted an hour ago, but it¡¯s gotten braver since then."


    Liv craned her neck and leaned out through between the crions to get a look. She saw what they were talking about immediately: a red fox, it¡¯s fur a bright ssh of color against the snow. Like the great bat that hung, preserved, in the old baron¡¯s Room of Curiosities, it was enormous, grown muchrger than any natural animal. Liv guessed that it was nearly the same size as one of the horses that pulled the baron¡¯s carriage. Over the shoulders, along the spine, and at the top of the skull, the vibrant fur was broken by ridges of gray stone. Liv narrowed her eyes.


    "Even the ws are made of manastone," she said, and the conversation paused at her words. "I thought the rift would be all underground creatures? Bats and cave spiders?"


    "When a rift erupts," Lady Julianne exined, stepping up to Liv¡¯s side, "raw mana spills out into the surrounding countryside - like how the river here floods in spring. You¡¯ve seen that, haven¡¯t you? I imagine it spills right over the banks, and causes a good bit of damage. And then when it recedes, does it leave things behind?"


    Liv nodded. "Yes."


    "A rift is like that," Julianne continued. "ces where the old gods walked, before they were cast down. ces touched by their power, to a greater or lesser extent. We¡¯re lucky that the Bald Peak rift is a small one, weak in power. That fox must have been on the slopes of the mountain, and it was caught up in the flood of mana."


    "Why would ite all the way here, though?" Liv asked. "There must be plenty of other things for it to eat between the mountain and Whitehill."


    "They can smell mages," Sheriff Porter broke in. "Like you, and thedy."


    "More specifically, they are drawn to mana," Julianne said.


    "Like the stonebats," Liv said, recalling the lesson from Master Grenfell. "It won¡¯t leave, then. It wants to get in, at us."


    "Yes, though that won¡¯t stop it from hunting other prey, out of convenience," Sheriff Porter said. "It won¡¯t be safe for anyone to leave the walls while it¡¯s out there."


    "Have you tried the new crossbows, yet?" Julienne asked him.


    The sheriff shook his head. "We were waiting for you," he admitted. "In case they don¡¯t work. I don¡¯t want the thing running off and losing us in the woods. I want it dead here."


    "Master Cushing has been very clear that he does not wish me to use magic," the baron¡¯s wife said, with a grimace. "The crossbows will have to do."


    "I might be able to help," Liv offered. "If you don¡¯t want it to get away, that is." The eyes of everyone in earshot settled on her again, and she fought the urge to duck her head and hunch her shoulders.


    "I don¡¯t want to put you in the position of trying to kill a mana-beast yet," Lady Julianne said. "You¡¯re too young, and you haven¡¯t had enough practice with your magic."


    "What if I trapped it?" Liv suggested. "I could use the spell from this morning, only instead of stretching it out, I could just make the outside really high."


    "Foxes can jump," Sheriff Porter pointed out. "You would have to be quick, girl."


    "Time it for when the men shoot," Julianne suggested. "They still take their shot. If the winss crossbows kill it, good. If they don¡¯t, and Liv stops it from getting away, they can reload and take another shot. If it jumps the ice, we haven¡¯t lost anything. As long as it¡¯s wounded, at least, we can send men to track it and follow the trail of blood."


    "Alright. All you men, ready," Porter ordered. A dozen men set their crossbows on the stone of the wall, each standing in their own space between the crions.


    "Aim for the fur, not the stone," Lady Julianne told them. "It will be like shooting a curtain wall, otherwise. Liv, tell us when you¡¯re ready."


    Liv leaned her crutch against the wall; she could keep her weight on one leg long enough to cast a single spell. Livid her book on the stone between the crions, and flipped to the back. She didn¡¯t need to stretch the bowl out into a long path, this time: she simply needed it to form as quickly as possible. Was the fox male, or female? It looked too bulky to be anything but a male.


    She flipped back to Master Jurian¡¯s notes and found what she wanted: Veh could be used to modify a spell, making it happen more quickly. It was a bit nervewracking to be modifying something on the fly, but she would make it work. She would show everyone that she could be useful.


    Liv took three deep breaths, holding each in turn. "Ready," she said.


    "On the count of three," Sheriff Porter told the men. "One. Two. Loose!"


    A dozen bolts were released at the same time: Liv heard them fly, but her mind was on the words she needed to say perfectly.


    "Celet Aiveh Belia," she shouted.


    Below, most of the crossbow bolts hit the fox, with only one whistling off to the side and sinking into the snow. Half of them, however, hit along the ridges of mana-stone. Most of those broke, and the other rebounded off the dense magical rock and bounced off away from the fox. Of the five bolts that struck fur and embedded themselves into the beasts¡¯s flesh, none seemed to have found anything vital. The fox looked up at the wall, bleeding but undaunted, and bared its teeth. The sight was terrifying.


    Before it could run off or - as seemed more likely - attempt to leap up the wall at them, Liv¡¯s magic surged through her. A cup of solid ice rose around the monstrous fox in gentle curves, thick enough that you couldn¡¯t see through it. Liv poured her mana into the spell, building the walls higher and higher until she felt absolutely empty, like a rag wrung dry. Without anything left to fuel it, the magic ended, leaving an uneven, half-built top to the curved walls encircling the fox. Liv copsed forward onto the stone wall. It would have been easier to let herself fall, but she didn¡¯t want to take her eyes off the monster until it was dead.


    "Load!" the sheriff shouted. Liv supposed there was no point in being quiet now that the thing had already been wounded. All around her, men slid bolts into ce and began cranking their mechanisms. The fox threw itself up against the ice, scrambling, but its ws could find no purchase on the slippery surface.


    "Loose!" Porter called, once the men were ready. Another dozen crossbow bolts sank into the beasts¡¯s body: this time, none of them missed. The fox yelped, its nks streaming with blood, and Liv saw that one of the shots had taken it in the neck. A second time, the animal threw itself at the wall, but Liv¡¯s ice held. A third volley finally put the fox down for good.


    When she saw it drop out of sight behind the ice, Liv allowed herself to copse back onto the parapet, with her back to the wall.


    "You did well," Lady Julianne said. Liv frowned when she saw that the baron¡¯s wife was putting her wand away again, sliding it back into ce in her belt.


    "And you weren¡¯t supposed to use that, mdy," Liv pointed out.


    "I didn¡¯t," Julianne said. "I was simply ready in the event it was needed. Come along - let¡¯s get you back to the castle. You must be exhausted."


    Lady Julianne knelt down and handed Liv her crutch, then took her by the elbow and helped her to the stairs. As they passed, the town guards nodded their heads, and called out their thanks. Liv blushed, and lowered her head.


    "You earned it," Julianne told her. "Don¡¯t be ashamed. But the eruption isn¡¯t over; this was only the beginning."

 19. Wings at Dusk

    CHAPTER CONTENT WARNING


    This chapter contains depictions of childbirth, and the threat of violence/things going wrong during that process. It¡¯s not my intent to traumatize anyone; I hope you enjoy the level of tension present in this chapter, but if its too much for you, its ok to skim past the parts that make you ufortable, skip them, or whatever you need to do.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Over the next two days, the walls of Whitehill proved sufficient to ward off the handful of stray mana-beasts that came south. Liv learned what she could from the castle guards and knights when they took their meals in the great hall. Several wolves had spent an entire night howling outside the city, until they¡¯d finally been killed.


    "The worst was the cottontail," Piers told her, when she delivered him his extra helping of peach pie. "You think those things can jump normally? The thing leapt the entire wall, and it was the size of a mastiff. Fast, too. Took us hours to kill it."


    Liv tried to imagine a rock encrusted, monstrous rabbit racing through the city streets, and decided that she was better off not thinking of it. Inside the castle, they were doubly insted: first by the walls around the town, and then by the higher, stouter curtain walls of the castle itself. Anything that got into Whitehill would still have a difficult task to get at them in the keep.


    By the end of the third day, Lady Julianne¡¯s child had still note.


    "Master Cushing said that he¡¯s going to cut the baby out," Liv told her mother and Gretta. She¡¯d been sent to bed by the baron¡¯s wife, but went to the kitchen first, where she helped wipe down the table and counters so that they would be clean in the morning.


    "That¡¯s not a good thing," Gretta said. "Only a Master Chirurgeon would even make the attempt. It usually means letting the mother die to save the child."


    "Lady Julianne¡¯s going to die?" Liv asked. She knew that sometimes women did not survive having a baby, but she¡¯d never known anyone it actually happened to.


    "No," Mama assured her,ing up and cing a hand on her back. "Stop frightening her, Gretta. If Master Cushing thinks he can do it, he has reason. The man delivered you, he knows what he¡¯s doing. He¡¯ll have wands and charms ready to stop the bleeding and close the cut."


    "It sounds terrifying," Liv said, with a shudder.


    "Come along to bed now, dove," her mother said. "We¡¯re done here for the night. I expect they¡¯ll want Emma here with us tomorrow, to keep her out of the way, but you might be asked for. Lady Julianne seems to have taken a shine to you."


    In bed, by the light of her candle, Liv looked over the words Master Jurian had left in her book, and tried to think how she could use ice to save a woman¡¯s life. Could she freeze a wound shut? She had a feeling that would go badly in all sorts of ways. Finally, she flipped to the charms that the midwife, Rhea, had left her in a different hand. Silently, she mouthed the words. Liv resolved to take the book with her in the morning, and not let it out of her sight. And perhaps, next market day, to get some kind of belt pouch, so that she could wear it always.


    When she woke, it was still dark, and someone was shaking her roughly by the light of a candle. "Up, my love," Mama told her. "The bell¡¯s rung from Lady Julianne. It¡¯s going to be a long night."


    "Is it the babying?" Liv asked, rolling out of bed and reaching for the skirt she¡¯d left in a pile on the floor. "I have to get up there," she said.


    "There¡¯s no rush," her mother told her. "She¡¯ll be a while yet. Sophie¡¯s taking some tea up, now; get yourself dressed, and then go see if there¡¯s anything else they need. Gretta and I will be cooking down here, and we¡¯ll keep a pot each of water and wine boiled for bandages."


    Liv couldn¡¯t help but rush despite her mother¡¯s words, and she hated having to use a crutch all the more on her way up the stairs. There were oilmps lit in the hall outside Lady Julianne¡¯s chambers, and two guards at the door who let her pass without question. Inside, she found Julianne in a shift and an open robe lined with rabbit fur, pacing around her sitting room in circles with Sophie at her side, holding her arm. Master Cushing was sitting in one of her chairs, sipping a cup of tea.


    "Oh, good, Liv," Julianne said. "I¡¯m sorry to have gotten you all up in the middle of the night," she said. "It looks like Master Cushing isn¡¯t going to have to perform surgery after all."


    "Can I do anything to help?" Liv asked.


    It turned out that what she could do was, for the most part, bepany so that Julianne wasn¡¯t alone. The long hours that followed were a peculiarbination of long, boring stretches of waiting, and busy-work. Master Cushing was little help; after his cup of tea, the old man dozed in his chair, having absconded with pillows from all over the room. Liv and Sophie took turns helping Julianne pace, or sitting down with her and rubbing her back when it hurt. It was Sophie who ran back and forth to the kitchens with trays of tea, and eventually a light breakfast, which the chirurgeon roused himself for.


    "Isn¡¯t there anything else we should be doing?" Liv demanded. It didn¡¯t seem like the old man even cared what was happening.


    "It is Lady Julianne¡¯s first child," Cushing said. "We¡¯re like to be here all day. Do not wear yourselves out now, children. But if you want to do something, why don¡¯t you draw her a hot bath. It will help rx the muscles."


    Preparing the bath, of course, was a lot of work and took a good deal of time, and mostly Liv couldn¡¯t help at all. A parade of castle guards carried buckets of boiled water up from the kitchen, where Mama and Gretta had been preparing for this since Liv woke. What she could do was put a fresh lining of clean linen on the wooden tub, and add Lady Julianne¡¯s favorite herbs and dried rose petals.


    Once the bath was full and steaming, all of the men were summarily ejected from the room at Julianne¡¯smand, including Master Cushing, despite his protests. "It¡¯s nothing I haven¡¯t seen before," the old man grumbled. "And that I won¡¯t see by the time we¡¯re done. I¡¯m going to find myself a bite to eat then, send for me if anything changes."


    "Finally," Julianne said, the moment the door was closed. "I don¡¯t know I¡¯ll stand him until this is over." She shrugged out of her robe, and then pulled her shift up over her head. When she dipped her foot into the water, she hissed. "Still a bit hot."


    "Let me help," Liv said. She flipped to the back of her book, nodded, and then set it aside and reached her hand out to the water.


    "Celet Aen¡¯vedia," she murmured, and did her best to hold back the flood of mana inside her, releasing only a trickle. It was almost a physical pain when she cut the flow off, but she managed to do it. "Try it now, mdy."


    "Much better," Julianne said, and sunk into the tub with a sigh of relief.


    Sophie and Liv stayed by her side, their tenuous truce holding for the moment. Perhaps it helped that they had something to do, to work together, Liv reflected. Every time the baron¡¯s wife tensed and groaned, she wondered if the baby wasing, but then the moment would pass.


    Julianne stayed in until the water had grown cold, and even then they had to chide her to get the woman out. She seemed less and less aware of what was happening around her; if Sophie had not put the robe back over her shoulders, Liv didn¡¯t think she would have even noticed that she was still naked. When Liv looked down at the bathwater, she was shocked to see spots of blood floating in it.


    "Is that normal?" she asked Sophie, lowering her voice so that Julianne wouldn¡¯t hear her.


    "I don¡¯t know," Sophie admitted. "I¡¯ll go get Master Cushing." In the meantime, Liv stayed with the baron¡¯s wife and held her hand. Each time Lady Julianne¡¯s body tensed, she squeezed Liv¡¯s fingers so tightly that she worried they would break.


    "I wish Henry was here," Julianne panted, when her body had rxed again. Her forehead was slick with sweat, and Liv patted her with a clean linen cloth.


    "He¡¯ll be back soon enough," Liv said, though they both knew it wasn¡¯t true.


    "Perfectly normal," Master Cushing pronounced, once he¡¯d been brought in to look at the water in the tub. "I¡¯ll have mene to take it away. Why don¡¯t we get you over to your bed, mydy." When he thought no one was looking, however, Liv caught the old chirurgeon frowning.


    As the hours passed, Lady Julianne grew more and more exhausted, and yet the baby still did note. Every time her body tensed, she screamed in pain, tears leaking from her eyes. "I just want it to stop," she begged. The midday meal hade and gone, and the cloudy sky out the bedroom window was painted shades of orange, pink and purple, and still it was not over. When Master Cushing slipped out of the bedroom into the sitting room, Liv grabbed her crutch and followed him, leaving Sophie tofort Julianne alone for a moment.


    Gently, Liv swung the door to the bedchamber closed behind her. "Something¡¯s wrong, isn¡¯t it?" she asked the Chirurgeon.


    Cushing, his back to her, unrolled a long leather case of metal instruments on the sitting room desk. "The child is noting," he said. "I think her hips may be too narrow. Whatever the case, this cannot go on. I am going to have to take the baby out." The old man turned to meet her eyes. "You should go down to the kitchens, Liv. This will be bloody. Someone as young as you should not see it."


    "She¡¯s been kind to me when she didn¡¯t have to be," Liv said. "I¡¯ll stay." As she watched, he pulled a long wand out of his bag: she recognized it from when he¡¯d taken the corrupted skin off her arm. A second wand, of a darker wood and with different sigils, came out next.


    "That one will help close the incision," Cushing exined. "It is more powerful than a charm."


    Outside the castle, bells began to ring. "What¡¯s that?" Liv asked. "The temple?"


    "The signal for everyone in town to take shelter in the castle," Cushing said. He strode over to the hallway door and jerked it open. "What¡¯s happening?" he asked the two guards.


    Liv¡¯s eye had been caught by something on the horizon. She stepped up to the sitting room windows, to get a better look. Against the sunset and the bloody clouds, ck flecks swirled, swooping, diving, and rising again. "Look!" she said, pointing.


    "Stonebats," the older guard said. "Close and bar the shutters. In the bedroom, as well. Quick, girl!"


    Liv limped back into the bedroom; she didn¡¯t even know where her crutch was, any longer. When the old baron had torn outrge chunks of the second floor walls, to put in the new ss windows, back when Liv was so young she could hardly remember, he hadn¡¯tpletely discarded defense. Every window was set with two shutters of stout wood, on the inside wall. Most of the time they hung forgotten, so that the light coulde in, t against the stone.


    "What is it?" Sophie asked, looking up from Lady Julianne¡¯s side. Liv swung the shutters closed, one after the other, and then struggled to lift the heavy wooden bar.


    "Stonebats," she said. "Come and help me." While Julianne screamed, lost in her own pain, the two girls got the windows barred. By the time they¡¯d finished, Master Cushing was in the room, the two guards carrying over the desk and setting it by the bed.


    "All of you stay in here," the older guard said. Liv thought his name might be Mark, but she wasn¡¯t certain. "Bar the door to the sitting room, and don¡¯t open that, or the windows, until we call in to you."


    "Will they get in the castle?" Sophie asked. "Are we safe?"


    "We won¡¯t let them through the door," the younger guard assured her. Liv and Sophie followed them back out into the sitting room.


    Something was stirring at the back of Liv¡¯s mind. "Do they let anyone in when the bell rings?" she asked, before the guard could leave them.


    "Anyone who makes it before they close the gates," the older guard assured her. "Whoever you¡¯re worried about, so long as they don¡¯t dally, they¡¯ll be safe. Now bar the door behind us girls, you understand?"


    It was a struggle to get the heavy wood in ce, and by the time they were locked in, both girls were panting. "Sophie, Liv!" Master Cushing shouted from the bedroom. "Come here. I need you both."


    When they got to the doorway, Liv stopped. The old chirurgeon had the numbing wand in hand, and was passing it over Lady Julianne¡¯s swollen belly. "Hold her arms down," he said, and Sophie rushed over to the bed to follow his instructions. The sigils along the length of the wand lit up, and Liv remembered the cool, detached feeling that came with its touch. It was an effect that had notsted long enough for her.


    The chirurgeon raised a knife, and the de caught the light of the oilmps. Liv¡¯s stomach roiled when he drew the edge across Julianne¡¯s belly, and a line of red blood welled up.


    The room was too hot, and it was all Liv could do to choke back vomit. She backed out of the bedroom, into the sitting room. She didn¡¯t think she could go back in there.


    Something thumped against the door to the hall, and Liv jumped. The guards were shouting, and she could half-make it out through the wood. There was some kind of hideous screeching, as well.


    "They can sense mana," Liv said out loud, before realizing that no one was listening to her. They know we¡¯re in here, she realized. They¡¯ll want to get to me, and the wands, and Lady Julianne.


    Liv scooped her book up from where she¡¯d left it on the bench, and flipped the back, where Master Julian had left her lists of words to try out. She ran her finger over the ink and the page, muttering to herself as she went, until atst she found what she was looking for.


    "Kve," Liv whispered. "Wall." She set the book aside, and turned to the door. In the time she¡¯d been searching for the right word, the shouts of the guards in the hall had stopped, but the screeching continued. Something was battering itself against the door, and as she drew in a deep breath, the wood began to splinter. The stone bats wereing through.


    "Celevet Aen Kveis," Liv sung, touching the door with her fingers. Mana poured out of her onto the door, flowing up the the ceiling and down to the floor. The wood froze over, but the spell did not stop there. The ice piled on, thicker and thicker, until a solid wall of ice blocked off the entire doorway. The thumping from without was muffled now, but did not abate.


    Liv turned back to the bedroom, where Julianne was screaming. "Don¡¯t open this door for anything," she shouted in, and then closed it. Repeating her invocation, Liv covered the inner door with ice, as well, trapping herself in the sitting room between the people within and the bats without.


    Liv faced the frozen outer door, with her back to the bedroom, and tried to judge how much mana she had to work with. Two frozen shards in one afternoon had exhausted her, a month ago - but she¡¯d had practice since then. She wished Master Kazamir had measured her right away, and then before he left, so she¡¯d know how many rings she¡¯d gained since then. Could she cast Frozen Shards once? She thought that she could.


    The ice cracked. Liv took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out again. There had to be more guardsing. Someone would have noticed the bats break into the castle; they would be fighting to drive them off. Guards could be out there right now. Perhaps the stonebats wouldn¡¯t even make it in before being killed.


    A great shard of ice snapped off the door and fell to the floor. Beyond it, the stout wood door was splintered and broken. The face of a stonebat, monstrous and huge, filled the gap, and it screeched. For a moment, Liv considered trying to aim a shard through the hole, but she didn¡¯t trust her ability to hit something so small, and she couldn¡¯t afford to waste any mana.


    The stonebat reared back, and Liv got a glimpse of the hallway beyond. She didn¡¯t see any guards. A cold stone settled at the bottom of her stomach. With a great crash, the ice gave way, broken nks of wood copsing inward. Tucking its wings, the stonebat came through the door into the sitting room. Blue-gold wisps of mana sparked off its stony back, its ws and fangs, and the v-shaped casque on its head.


    For a frozen moment, everything was still, and Liv met its eyes with her own. Then, the stonebat threw itself at her.

 20. Eruption鈥檚 End

    Ice and wood rattled to the floor, ruining Lady Julianne¡¯s expensive carpets in an instant. The stonebat knocked one of the chairs aside in its rush forward, and it¡¯s hot breath filled the sitting room with a sour stench.


    "Celent¡¯he Dvo Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae!" Liv screamed the words, in more of a panic than she would ever want to admit. She thrust her hand forward, and a voice in the back of her mind told her that she was going to lose it if the magic didn¡¯te.


    She needn¡¯t have feared.


    The word of power coiled inside her and sprung, like a guard dog or a mother wolf leaping to protect its young. Mana roared up from Liv¡¯s belly, vibrating through her so that every bone in her body sang out with its hum. Two glistening knives of ice appeared in front of her, and before the stonebat could reach her, they shot forward as fast as any crossbow bolt. The frozen shards took the monster in its chest, hurling it backward in a spray of dark, stinking blood. The bat hit what was left of the door, then slumped to the ground, eyes nk and staring.


    Liv lowered her hand and dropped to her knees, feeling utterly empty. Three spells on top of each other; she had never cast so much at once before. She felt frozen through, as if she¡¯d spent hours outside ying in the snow, and she couldn¡¯t help but begin to shiver. Her teeth chattered, and she curled around herself. At least it was over. She¡¯d killed the bat, somehow. It was the first thing in her life she¡¯d ever killed.


    A horrid screeching came from the hallway. Wearily, Liv forced her head up and her eyes open. A second bat was forcing its way through the door. When it found the corpse of itspanion, the creature lowered its head and sniffed once, twice. With its snout, it nudged the corpse. Then, it raised its head and fixed its eyes on Liv.


    She couldn¡¯t cast that spell again. If Liv had any Mana left, it was the barest hint. But she did have the ring on her finger. That was another thing she needed Master Grenfell to have taught her, that he hadn¡¯t yet. If she survived this, she was going to have to make a list.


    "I need you," Liv whispered to the ring, like a prayer. There was no possible way there was enough mana in there for another casting of Frozen Shards. But maybe if she stripped the spell down to its most basic elements¡­


    "Celet¡¯co Scelis," Liv gasped. There was nothing left in her, but the word wanted to be free. It scratched and wed at her insides, scraping her raw and empty, and then it kept looking. For a breath, she didn¡¯t think it would work, and the stonebat stalked closer, dragging itself over the corpse thaty across the doorway. Then, the spell caught on something in the ring. In an instant, Liv understood why the ring was made so that the back of the stone rested against the skin of her finger. The mana sucked through her finger, then up and out, just enough to fuel the spell.


    A single shard of ice appeared in Liv¡¯s right hand. It was so cold that it felt like it was burning her hand. She didn¡¯t have the strength to get up, but maybe she had enough left to stab the thing a few times.


    The stonebat closed slowly, this one more cautious than its deadpanion. It leaned down to sniff her, once, like it had taken in the scent of the corpse. Then, it nudged her with its nose. It isn¡¯t certain whether I¡¯m dead or alive, Liv realized, and kept as still as she could. If it lowered its head just a little more¡­


    The moment the bat¡¯s eye was within reach, Liv stabbed it with the shard of ice, as hard as she could. The bat screeched and batted her aside with its wing. Liv was thrown across the room into the stone outer wall of the castle, not far from the window, and felt something snap in her chest. She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    The bat wed at its eye, scrambling away from her in a panic. It was hurt, but it wasn¡¯t dead, and that was it. It was going to kill her; there was nothing left. Liv couldn¡¯t even move. Her eyes fluttered; she was so tired, and all she wanted to do now was to go to sleep.


    There were shouts at the door, and men in jack of te rushed in. The bat was pierced by spears, and battered by hammers. That¡¯s good, Liv thought to herself. They won¡¯t get the baby. That meant she could finally close her eyes.


    ?


    "Liv! Liv, wake up."


    She was wrapped in nkets and furs, and a hand was shaking her by the shoulder. The movement jostled something in her side, and she couldn¡¯t help but moan at the stabbing pain. With that, she was fully awake, and Liv opened her eyes.


    Mama and Master Cushing were on either side of her, but she wasn¡¯t in her room downstairs in the servants¡¯ quarters. A quick nce around was enough to tell Liv she was in the small bed that had been moved into Lady Julianne¡¯s sitting room for Emma. The room was lit by oilmps, and she didn¡¯t see any stonebats - dead or alive. The furniture was a wreck, though.


    "Are you alright, dove," her mother asked her.


    "Tired, Mama," Liv said. "And my side hurts, like something broke."


    "Let me have a look," Cushing said. The Chirurgeon pulled back the nkets, and felt along Liv¡¯s side. When he pressed on her ribs, she flinched and cried out in pain. "Cracked, I would say," he told them both. "I¡¯ll wrap them up tightly. She needs to eat mana-rich food to recover her strength." He looked down at Liv, meeting her eyes for a long moment. "You saved our lives, Liv Brodbeck. Thank you."


    "She shouldn¡¯t have had to," Mamained. "That¡¯s what guards are for." Carefully, she leaned in to give Liv a hug. Liv closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it while itsted. "I need to go help Lady Julianne, love," her mother eventually said. "She needs someone to teach her how to feed the baby, and I¡¯m the only woman in the castle who knows."


    "They¡¯re both alive?" Liv asked. "I was worried, when I saw the knife. I was going to stay, but I just couldn¡¯t, and then the bats came¡­"


    "Alive, and doing well," Master Cushing said. "Though she shouldn¡¯t be walking for a few days. I¡¯ll send Sophie down to the kitchen to tell Greta to have something prepared for you. The bats have all either been killed, or driven off, so it should be safe enough now." He made her sit up, and helped her get out of her bodice. Then, he wrapped her torso tightly in long strips of linen. Liv wasn¡¯t certain how it was supposed to help, but it did seem to keep her cracked ribs from shifting so much.


    Liv let herself doze, until Sophie returned with a trencher of food. "Gretta cooked up some of the smoked venison for you," she said. "In a bit of fried garlic. It isn¡¯t much, but Master Cushing says you need something in your belly."


    "Thank you," Liv said, and began stuffing her mouth with bite sized chunks of meat. She couldn¡¯t help but let out a groan of relief when the first sparks of mana began to hit her body. It felt like weeks since she¡¯d eaten anything.


    "Is it true you killed two of those monsters, out here?" Sophie asked her. "The guards had dragged them away by the time they let us out, but it looked like a wreck."


    Liv shook her head. "I was only able to kill one," she managed, around a mouthful of food. "Stabbed the other one in the eye, but the guards killed it."


    Sophie looked away from her. "You saved my life," she admitted. "Why would you do that, when I¡¯ve been so nasty to you?"


    "Doesn¡¯t mean you deserve to die," Liv said, taking a moment to swallow so she could speak with an empty mouth. "Anyway, Lady Julianne and the baby. I couldn¡¯t let anything happen to them. Is it a boy or a girl? Has she given it a name?"


    "He¡¯s a boy," Sophie said. "And his name is Matthew. He has beautiful eyes, you should see them."


    Liv smiled, and grabbed herself another bite of venison.


    ?


    She did see the baby soon enough; once both Liv and little Matthew had eaten their fill, Mama helped her into the bed chamber to see Lady Julianne and the infant. He was red and wrinkled, and swaddled so tightly in linens that he looked like nothing so much as a potato. Liv was permitted to hold him while he slept, so long as she sat in a chair next to the bed.


    "I¡¯m told that we owe our lives to you," Lady Julianne said. She had a few pillows under her back, so that she could sit up without straining the healing incision. Master Cushing had absolutely forbidden the new mother from sitting up herself, without someone to help her. "That you faced down two of those bats by yourself, after the guards at the door were killed."


    Liv avoided making eye contact by looking down at the baby. Carefully, she touched his cheek with one finger. "He¡¯s so soft," she murmured. It was ufortable for everyone to be pointing out what she¡¯d done; and truthfully, she¡¯d rather forget it all. The stink of the stonebats¡¯ breath, the terror when the first one had rushed her. Something had been bothering her, though. "How did they get in?" Liv asked. "Did they break the shutters?"


    Julianne shook her head. "One of the shutters wasn¡¯t closed properly, it seems. If I ever find out who¡¯s at fault, they¡¯ll be sacked immediately, but no one is admitting to it."


    "It did all happen rather quickly," Liv said. "But I had a thought. Where was the open window?"


    "On the second floor, just down the hall," Julianne said. "Or so I am told. The reason the guards were overwhelmed was that it was so close to us, and of course they came right for the room with everyone who could use mana together. An irresistable meal, I imagine."


    "That¡¯s rather unlucky," Liv said. "Very unlucky. And the bells meant that anyone who wanted to take shelter in the castle could, didn¡¯t they?"


    "Yes," the baron¡¯s wife said. "I see where you¡¯re going, but say it out loud, why don¡¯t you?"


    "Do we know whether that girl, Josephine, was let into the castle?" Liv asked.


    "We do not," Lady Julianne admitted. "But now that you¡¯ve said it, I am going to see that we find out."


    It didn¡¯t take long; the fact that the girl had entered once before, and that Lady Julianne had told the guards not to let her back in, had made certain all the guards knew who was being asked about. It was a young guard named James who admitted to it, shuffling his feet in front of the bed while Sheriff Porter watched. The baby was tucked in Lady Julianne¡¯s arms, while Liv and Sophie both waited off to the side in case they were needed.


    "Aye," James said. "My apologies, mdy, but when the bell rung, I thought that meant anyone was allowed into the castle. We knew you didn¡¯t want her about, but I couldn¡¯t leave her outside the walls with those monstersing."


    "I won¡¯t punish you for showing mercy," Julianne said wearily, closing her eyes. "Sheriff Porter, find that girl if you can. I suspect she¡¯ll have fled the town, but perhaps you¡¯ll get lucky. If you do get her, I want her brought here for questioning."


    Lady Julianne was correct: despite two days of searching, no one could turn up any trace of the girl. Sheriff Porter even questioned Little Whit and Bill, at Liv¡¯s suggestion, though both boys insisted they had no idea where she was. They¡¯d beenpeting for her affections, apparently, which Liv found positively revolting; but then she hadn¡¯t had a good impression of either one of them to begin with.


    As the days went by, beasts from the rift were spotted less and less frequently. The stonebats had been the highpoint of the eruption, it seemed, at least so far as the townspeople were concerned. Already, operations were underway to recover the monsters¡¯ droppings.


    "The guano is rich in mana," Master Cushing exined, as he checked on Liv¡¯s ribs three days after the attack. "It makes excellent fertilizer, and it results in produce that also contains trace amounts of mana. After every eruption, we have a crop that brings more coin than any four normal yearsbined. Thest time, we had Eldish merchants all the way from Al¡¯Fenthia, buying as much as they could transport. You won¡¯t remember; you were too young."


    Liv had been prescribed rest, much like Lady Julianne. She spent much of her time working in her book, where she recorded Wall of Ice. She¡¯d agonized for hours trying to find a name that sounded better, but it truly wasn¡¯t anythingplex, and the simple name seemed to fit the spell best.


    As the days dragged on, the worst part was that no one knew where the culling team was. The season had officially turned from winter to flood, and as soon as the sun rose every part of the castle was dripping water, while the banks of snow shrunk daily. The Aspen River was already running high, but still no word came from the rift.


    Baron Henry had left orders to send for help if the party had not returned in twelve days, and it seemed by theck of further assaults that the eruption had ended in half that. However, no sleigh came south from Bald Peak. Emma grew increasingly unmanageable in her father¡¯s absence, but when her tantrums had ended, she often copsed in tears. To Liv, at least, she had admitted that she was afraid for her father.


    On the eleventh day since the eruption, finally, the guards raised the rm. Sophie was changing Matthew, while Liv worked out an idea on a few sheafs of nk paper. She didn¡¯t ever want to be caught and thrown aside again; if the bat had been left alone with her, she would be dead now. That meant she needed a thicker wall, or some other way of restraining any beast that attacked. She¡¯d considered a cage of ice, or chains, or even whether she could lift herself up on a pir, high enough that nothing could reach her. Unfortunately, Master Jurian hadn¡¯t left her all of the words she might need to construct the spells she wanted.


    "Lady Julianne," Sheriff Porter said, rushing into the room. "Two sleighs have been spotted approaching from the north."


    "Only two?" Julianne said. They all knew that three had departed Castle Whitehill the day of the eruption. "They will being here. Be ready to treat the wounded - get Master Cushing and give him whatever he needs. And send word down to Maggie and Gretta to have as much hot food ready as they can. Any guards you can spare should draw baths, as I¡¯m certain those will be wanted as well. Sophie, Liv, help me dress. I need to be in the courtyard when my husband arrives."


    Liv¡¯s spellwork was set aside in the bustle of activity, and not half a bellter, all three of the women were waiting in the courtyard, wrapped in thick cloaks and furs, along with Emma, the Sheriff, and Master Cushing. Even baby Matthew was there, swaddled tightly and warm in his mother¡¯s arms, when the two sleighs rattled in. So much of the snow and ice had melted, Liv observed, that it must have been tough going for the horses who did the pulling.


    Kale Forester leapt out of the sleigh as soon as it hade to a halt, ran over to his daughter, and lifted her into the air, swinging her around and sping her to his chest. Emma giggled in relief, and grinned; Liv hadn¡¯t seen her so happy since her father had left.


    "Where is my husband?" Julianne asked.


    "I need help to move him," Rhea, the midwife called from the second sleigh. Liv counted the knights that had gone with the team, and found that only two had returned. Rhea staggered out into the courtyard, clutching what looked like a trimmed branch, and using it as a walking stick. It was obvious to everyone that she was limping.


    "What happened?" Julianne asked, starting forward with the baby in her arms, but Master Cushing put a hand out to stop her, and marched over to the sleigh with more speed than Liv would have expected from the old man.


    "His back is broken," Master Grenfell said, climbing out of the sleigh. Liv saw that his head was wrapped in bandages, and that blood had soaked through. "He cannot walk."

 21. Lessons

    The pronouncement of Baron Henry¡¯s injuries threw the entire castle into turmoil, and Liv would have been willing to bet that extended to the rest of the town, as well. She couldn¡¯t know for certain; she had no time to leave.


    "It was a bear that did it," Master Grenfell exined to her in his chambers. "We managed to handle everything up to that point, with the exception of the bats that got by us. We didn¡¯t have enough ways to deal with fliers. In all honesty, he should have called for help from the guild, but Henry didn¡¯t want to pay for it."


    "A whole flock of them got to us here," Liv said, perched at her usual chair. It was much morefortable in the room without the presence of Mirabel and Griselda.


    "I suspected as much, from how charged with mana your body is," Grenfellmented. He¡¯d already thrown his cloak aside, and now he eased his boots off. From the smell, Liv guessed he¡¯d been wearing them the entire time he was gone. "You had to fight, then?"


    "They got in through one of the windows on the second floor," Liv exined, "while Lady Julianne was giving birth. I froze both doors shut, but two of them got through into her sitting room anyway."


    "Given that you are still alive, it seems Master Jurian made the correct choice in what he taught you." Grenfell leaned back in his chair, raised his hand to his bandaged head, and closed his eyes. She thought that he looked very tired, and it wouldn¡¯t have surprised Liv to see him fall asleep right then in the chair.


    "I think I owe you an apology, Liv," Grenfell said, finally sitting up and meeting her eyes. "I have been training you in the same manner I¡¯ve trained those two girls - which is to say, hardly at all. I think that if you had not survived, I would have been to me. That changes now. You will be taught every discipline offered at the College, as best we can arrange here. It would be na?ve of me to assume that you can make it through the years between now and when you leave without being ced in danger again."


    "What¡¯s going to happen now?" Liv asked. "Not just with me, but with Baron Henry. If there¡¯s another eruption, he can¡¯t go, can he?"


    "No, he cannot," Grenfell said. "Not unless Aldo Cushing can work a miracle, but I don¡¯t have much hope of that. It¡¯s doubtful he¡¯ll ever be able to walk again. And to be honest, he is most of the reason the rest of us survived. His word of power is formidable."


    "What is it?" Liv asked. "Can I know?"


    With a wince, the mage levered himself up from his chair, went over to his bookshelf, and removed a leather journal of the same general type that Liv used to write her spells in. "Ters," Grenfell told her, after finding the correct page. He carried the book over, put it before her, and pointed with his finger at a set of sigils. "It can be roughly tranted as, ¡¯to thirst,¡¯ or perhaps ¡¯to dehydrate.¡¯ In the hands of a skilled and merciless wielder, it can shrivel the very flesh into a desated husk. There are very few defenses against; in fact, it¡¯s rather horrifying to witness. I imagine he will be teaching it to his heir, in due time; it¡¯s been passed down by the Summerset¡¯s for centuries."


    "Am I going to get in trouble for knowing this?" Liv asked, recalling the day she¡¯d been questioned by not only the baron, but the sheriff and mayor as well.


    Grenfell shook his head. "The guild maintains records on all the noble families, and their magic. Most of them send their children to us to learn to use their words better. What you cannot do is attempt to learn it yourself, or use it. Not that it would be an easy task, without a teacher."


    "I couldn¡¯t just conjugate it and make a spell?" Liv asked, frowning.


    "You¡¯re underestimating how long it takes to imprint a word of power," Grenfell chided her. "Your own experience with Cel was extraordinary. Do you think that I could use it?" He picked up the book, closed it, and carried it back over to the bookshelf, where he returned the volume to its proper ce.


    "You can¡¯t?" Liv asked.


    Grenfell shook his head. "It can take days, even months to imprint a word onto your mind. Without a guide to tell you about the proper visualizations, to steer you in matching your resonance to the word, it is a process of excruciating trial and error. You will learn for yourself if you choose to stay with the guild permanently; all who join us are taught Aluth, the word of raw magical force and direct maniption of mana. Which brings me to the next thing we need to do."


    Grenfell opened his travelling pack, and reached inside, and pulled out the enormous mana stone she¡¯d seen him use on multiple asions before. "Both you and I have used a great deal of magic over the course of this eruption," he said. "We are both risking mana-sickness. I say risk, but I suppose it is nearly certain. Still, it is best if we empty our bodies of all mana, to prevent further damage. Keep an eye out for any blemishes on your skin over the rest of flood season; I¡¯m sure Aldo will be examining both of us regrly."


    "I don¡¯t understand how the same thing that powers our spells can also hurt us so much," Liv grumbled, pulling her chair over to sit with the stone between Master Grenfell and herself. It was awkward, with the crutch, but she managed.


    "It is because, for all the guild has rediscovered, we are still woefully ignorant," the mage admitted. "We are like children at y, wearing the clothes of our parents as a costume, no matter how ill-fitting. Thenguage of the V?dim, the very nature of mana and the Gift¡­ we¡¯ve lost more knowledge than we retained. A thousand years of shortsightedness and belligerence has seen to that. Jurian thinks the Eld know more than we do; I suppose he may be right, but they aren¡¯t sharing."


    "The in truth," Grenfell said, "is that uncontrolled mana twists and corrupts anything it permeates. And that includes our bodies. The more control you have, the less danger you will be in from mana sickness. But at your level of skill, you are wasting as much mana as you actually channel into your spells, and it is spilling out of you in a mess of energy, hurting your own body as it leaves. One of the reasons we use wands and staves is to aid us in directing that flow, and I think that once the snow has melted it will be high time for us to get you one. Now hush with your questions, and let me do this."


    It was exhausting, to be drained of mana yet again, but it was also beautiful to watch the blue and gold wisps rise from her body. It was also starting to be familiar, almost soothing. Liv noticed that the massive piece of stone was utterly gray and dead, until their mingled mana began to flow into it at Master Grenfell¡¯s direction, and she found it slightly terrifying just how much power he must have used up fighting at the rift.


    In the days that followed, Liv¡¯s previous routine was entirely upended. "You¡¯re no longer a scullery maid," Lady Julianne told her. With her husband severely wounded and confined to bed for the moment, she was the one running the affairs of the barony. "It was somewhat ridiculous to keep you in that position before, given your potential, but after what you did during the eruption, it would be downright ungrateful of us not to make adjustments. We cannot take you on as a Court Mage, as you have notpleted two years at the college, nor finished your time as a journeyman. Instead, I am naming you a maid of honor."


    It was an unseasonably warm day, and Liv suspected thest of the snow in the courtyard and grounds would be gone by the time the sun set. A table, rocking crib, and chairs had been fetched out to the gardens, where Sophie served tea. None of the peach or apple trees had begun to bud yet, which meant there were no leaves to shield them from the sun. Instead, a cloth had been stretched above the table to provide shade.


    "What is that, mdy?" Liv asked.


    "Only the queen and an official princess are permitteddies-in-waiting," Julianne exined. Mathew had just finished a feeding, and promptly fallen asleep in the crib. "As the wife of a baron, I may employ a small number of maids of honor, however, supervised by a mistress of the robes. Most families don¡¯t have the funds to support so many courtdies, so the custom is not often used, but it seems the most fitting thing for our situation. You will be paid a sry of forty golden crowns annually, but I won¡¯t actually give you most of that. Instead, I will see it deposited in your name with the Most Noble Bankers Guild. Ah, that reminds me." She handed Liv a scroll sealed in wax.


    "What is this?" Liv asked.


    "Your reward for saving my life," Julianne said. "I wrote to my father, and he has awarded you a pension of ten golden crowns annually, for life. You can read the whole thingter, it is in overblown courtnguage, but it conveys his thanks. Don¡¯t take it for more than it is; this is the sort of reward for service to the crown that he hands out on a regr basis. Don¡¯t expect him to remember your name."


    Liv grinned. The king had sent her a reward! "Do I thank him, mdy?" she asked.


    "If I have anything to say about it, you¡¯ll never meet my father," Julianne told her. "Or at least not until you¡¯ve finished your time in Coral Bay. Now, your duties will be to attend me when required, but most of the time you are going to spend learning. You¡¯re done taking lessons with those two spoiled girls. Instead, you¡¯ll see Master Cushing in the morning for lessons in medicine and anatomy."


    "I thought the college taught magic?" Liv said.


    "Healing magic requires a basic understanding of medicine and the human body," the baron¡¯s wife exined. "You begin learning that now. In the afternoon, you will have direct instruction with Master Grenfell in spellcasting. When you are not with them, you will attend me, and I may pull you from your lessons when I have need. You can expect that we will spend much of our time discussingw, particrly as it rtes to magic, with an emphasis on the rights of the nobility, the responsibility of the mages¡¯ guild, and the particrs of how the other guilds license magic from the aristocratic families."


    Liv nodded. "Can I still help out in the kitchen, from time to time?"


    "You may go and visit with your mother whenever you are free from your duties," Lady Julianne said. "I expect that you will have plenty of time until you are healed up, at which point we are adding additional training."


    "There¡¯s more?" Liv eximed.


    "Indeed. Master Forester will teach you to butcher mana-beasts," Julianne said. "You will need that knowledge when you go into a rift. As punishment for allowing that girl into the castle, guardsman James will be responsible for your physical conditioning, once Master Cushing judges you healed. Too many mages have died not because of ack of magical power, but due to a weakness in physical stamina and endurance. I will correct that deficit in you before it has time to set in."


    Liv took a sip of her tea. "It all sounds like quite a lot," she said. In truth, the very thought of so much work was overwhelming. It would have been simpler, and more familiar, to go back to scrubbing out chamber pots.


    "You saved not only my life, but the life of my son," Julianne said. "I will see you sent to Coral Bay as the most prepared student of your year. You¡¯ve worked hard all your life, Liv. This is merely a different kind of work. Do not disappoint me."


    The new lessons began the very next day, which meant that she was able to avoid any nastiness from Mirabel and Griselda. Instead of heading to Master Grenfell¡¯s chambers, Liv attended Master Cushing, who sat her on his table and began by examining her ankle, ribs, and beneath the linen wraps on her arm.


    "The skin we took away has healed up well," he said. "I do not think you need a fresh set of bandages there. I don¡¯t yet see any signs of mana sickness from your most recent exertions, but it often takes weeks to manifest, and we shall be cautious. Your ankle and ribs are healing up nicely. All in all, I could not expect a better recovery, and I see no signs ofplication. I wonder whether it has anything to do with your Elden blood."


    Liv shrugged. "I don¡¯t know. All of that is good, though, isn¡¯t it?"


    "So it is," Cushing said. He walked over to his bookshelf, and pulled out an old book as cumbersome as the volumes that Master Grenfell referenced during his lessons. "We begin with anatomy. Given that you have a habit of breaking them, you will learn the names of each and every one of the two-hundred and six bones in the human body."


    The open pages of the book were filled by a lengthwise drawing of a skeleton, with cramped writing next to thergest bones. Liv bent over it, reading a few, and then looked up. "They each have a name? All of them?" He couldn¡¯t be serious. Master Cushing gave her such an evil grin that she knew he was going to enjoy her suffering a great deal. "Wait," Liv said. "You said that humans have two-hundred and sixteen bones-"


    "Two hundred and six," Cushing corrected her.


    "Is that how many the Eld have, as well?" Liv asked.


    "An interesting question," the chirurgeon said. "I have never had the opportunity of examining aplete Elden skeleton. I do have a femur, somewhere in here," he said, rising and going over to his desk. After much shuffling, he pulled something long and dark out of a lower drawer and brought it over.


    "Is it supposed to be that color?" Liv asked. On the one hand, it was revolting that the bone in front of her had once been inside a living, breathing person who was now dead. On the other hand, there was something fascinating about it. It hade from the Eld, from one of her father¡¯s people. It may well have been the closest she had gotten to them in her entire life. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, she reached out and touched the bone with a finger.


    "Much darker than a human¡¯s," Cushing agreed. "You¡¯ve been in the Room of Curiosities. Does it remind you of anything you have seen before?"


    Liv furrowed her brow. The only bones in the old baron¡¯s collection had been animal bones. This didn¡¯t even look like the wyrm skull. Rather, it reminded her of-


    "A casque?" she said.


    "Good." Cushing nodded. "Yes, this bone has many of the same properties as the kind of casques we see on mana-beasts that have been transformed by a rift. It raises a number of questions, does it not? Are the Eld born with bones like this? If so, they would have a much greater capacity for storing mana than any human. Or is this a transformation that urred due to extended proximity to mana from a rift? I don¡¯t have an answer for you, Liv," he admitted. "If you ever learn the truth, perhaps you will let me know, so that I can add it to my records."


    Liv thought back to when Master Grenfell had tested her with her ring and the stone. She¡¯d been able to hold even more mana than he had, and he¡¯d been a mage for decades, while Liv had only just begun learning to use magic. She wondered what color her bones would be, if they cut her open and looked. Light, like a human¡¯s, or dark, like one of the Eld? Or perhaps somewhere in between?


    "Enough distractions," Cushing said. "You are not going to learn these things by dawdling. Repeat after me¡­"


    By the time Liv left the chirurgeon¡¯s chambers, her head was splitting. If she¡¯d thought that memorizing cases, tenses and pronouns was tedious, this was worse. At least learning those things had a direct impact on the kinds of spells that she could create. This was a great deal of work, all for the thought that someday she might need to learn healing magic. She couldn¡¯t help stewing on it, which meant she didn¡¯t notice the First Footman until he called her name.


    "Miss Brodbeck," Archibald said, breaking into her thoughts. He must have been waiting for her outside of Master Cushing¡¯s door. "Baron Henry wishes to speak to you. Please follow me."

 22. Aspen and Silver

    Liv had never been in the baron¡¯s suite before, though she¡¯d lived at Castle Whitehill for her entire life. She¡¯d sometimes imagined how luxurious it must be; but she¡¯d never expected to recoil at the smell of sickness the moment she entered. Someone had lit honey-scented candles, but they could not conceal the mingled odors of blood, pus, and vomit.


    Henry Sumerset was propped up in his bed on a pile of pillows, with a nket stretched over his outstretched legs. His arms were wrapped in bandages, and spots of blood had soaked through the linen. Liv remembered Master Cushing working on her own body with a surgical knife, and did not envy him.


    Liv gave a curtsy, then kept her eyes lowered. "You sent for me, m¡¯lord?" First Footman Archibald hovered at her shoulder, and Liv was shocked to realize that his attitude reminded her of nothing so much as how Mama acted when she was sick.


    "I did," Henry said. Even his voice was weak. "I owe you my gratitude, Miss Brodbeck. I have heard stories from several people I trust, and every one of them agrees that you risked your own life to protect my wife and child. As you can see, more than ever before, I cannot afford to spurn loyal service."


    "Anyone would have done it," Liv said. "I just happened to be there."


    Henryughed. "Do you hear that, Archie? Anyone would have done it. Miss Brodbeck, most people would have run or hidden themselves in a wardrobe. And of the few who chose to fight, nearly all of them would have met the same end as the guards who died at the door. You happened to be the only one in the castle capable of making a stand in that room, and you chose to do so. You paid a cost, as well," he said. "I hear your ribs were broken. I suspect you¡¯ll spend some time under Aldo¡¯s knife, as well."


    Liv bit her lip, mustered her courage, and then asked her question. "Most of the stonebats were killed by men with crossbows," she began. "They weren¡¯t very powerful, were they? Could you have killed two of them?"


    "I killed half a dozen before they flew too far south for me to finish any more," Henry said. "You are correct, youngdy. The bats are some of the least of the beasts that spilled out of Bald Peak during the eruption."


    "If Lady Julianne had been in a state to fight, she would have destroyed them herself, wouldn¡¯t she?" Liv asked.


    "She could have, yes," the baron confirmed.


    "And they almost killed me," Liv said. "It doesn¡¯t sound like I did very much, then."


    "You did what was needed, in that ce at that time. I¡¯m told my wife has already arranged to reward your service, in her own ways."


    "Lady Julianne has been very generous," Liv said.


    "Good. But I am the Baron of Whitehill, and I would be remiss to allow her gratitude to outshine my own. Service must be rewarded." Henry shifted on his pillows; the movement must have brought him pain, for his face twisted in an effort to remain silent. "More willow-bark tea, Archie. In my father¡¯s Room of Curiosities," Henry said, when he could continue, "is a very old book. It was written by the founder of my line, Semhis Thorn-Killer, after the war against the old gods. I hereby grant you permission to study that book, so long as it is not removed from the room."


    The first footman approached the bed with a cup of tea, and Henry paused to take a drink. "You will find it contains records of Thorn-Killer¡¯s spells," the baron continued. "As well as his battle against Ceria, the V?dic Lady of Thorns. Permission to study the book was one of the conditions of Kazimir¡¯s employment here as Court Mage, and now I grant you that same right. Whateverponents you can pull from those spells, with the sole exception of my family¡¯s word of power, are yours. May it aid you in your studies."


    "Thank you, m¡¯lord," Liv said, giving the baron another curtsy. "With your permission, then, I¡¯ll leave you to rest."


    "Go on," Henry said, waving his hand at her in dismissal. "Go out and be alive. There is only death in this room."


    Liv backed away, and Archibald followed her. After he¡¯d shut the door behind them, he leaned in to speak to her in hushed tones. "The pain overwhelms him," the first footman said. "The back was not the only wound he suffered. Sometimes he does not know what he is saying."


    "Will he get better?" Liv asked.


    "Master Cushing says that in some ways, he will," Archibald said. "But he will never walk again. I knew him from the time he was a little boy," the footman muttered. "To think he should suffer like this. Go on. I know you have a great deal to do. I will stay with him for a while."


    ?


    The servants quarters filled with new hires. Meredith, one of the women who had applied for the position asdy¡¯s maid, was hired to be little Matthew¡¯s governess. Two younger women, Agatha and Joan, were brought on to fill Sophie and Liv¡¯s former positions, respectively. With Edward, the new footman, Liv found that she only knew half the people around the table in the kitchen. It was with mixed feelings, therefore, that she saw her few possessions moved upstairs to a room on the second floor, down the hall from Masters Cushing and Grenfell.


    "I don¡¯t feel I belong up here," Liv admitted.


    "Nonsense," Lady Julianne said, throwing the windows open to let in the afternoon light. "This castle has been half empty the entire time I¡¯ve lived here. As my attendant, you need to be near me when I call. This room would have been for a daughter," she exined, "but I will not be having any more children, so there is no point in letting the ce gather dust."


    "I¡¯m sorry," Liv said.


    "It isn¡¯t your fault," Julianne told her. "And it is between my husband and I. You know, when you agree to be wed, that eventually there will be pain. Some wives die in childbirth; some men¡¯s hearts give out when they are young. I didn¡¯t think it would be this, and I didn¡¯t think it would be so soon, but I knew we wouldn¡¯t both be young and healthy forever. This is what the agreement is, dear girl. Keep that in mind when ites your turn. Now, the footmen will bring your things up. You can still go down and visit your mother whenever you like, as you have the time."


    And she did. Liv made certain to go down and help Gretta and her mother with the cooking whenever she could. Partly, it was to make certain they didn¡¯t grow apart; but it was also because she enjoyed it, and that she still felt morefortable in the servants¡¯ kitchen than in the main hall. It also gave her an opportunity to tell Gretta she no longer had to pay Master Grenfell.


    "Between the pension, and the sry from Lady Julianne, I can pay thirty myself," Liv told her while rolling out a pie crust on the counter. "And Master Kazimir agreed to put aside the remaining two crowns. So you can go back to putting your coins away for retirement," she assured the old woman.


    "That leaves you no money at all, as far as I can tell," Gretta grumbled.


    "I don¡¯t need it for anything, anyway," Liv assured her. "I spend all of my time studying, or here in the kitchen with you. I don¡¯t need to pay for food or anything like that."


    "You can help me buy clothes for her, if you like," Mama offered with a nudge to Gretta¡¯s hip. "We can¡¯t have her eating in the great hall upstairs dressed as a scullion, after all."


    "That¡¯s true," the old woman said, and brightened. "We have to uphold the standards of the family, after all. We couldn¡¯t have her shaming us when visitorse."


    So it was that Liv found herself the owner of three new dresses, all in dark gray. They were merchants¡¯ dresses, like Mirabel or Griselda might wear, with bright linings that peeked out from the sleeves, or when the skirts moved. One was lined in blue, one in pure white, and one in forest green. She wore the blue on the first day that Master Grenfell took her out of the town walls and into the woods that lined the lower slopes of Bald Peak.


    It was full melt season by then, and the mage chose a warm day to have a carriage bring them north. His bandage was gone, but the culling expedition had left Master Grenfell with a new scar along his scalp. Liv examined it during their journey, and wondered what sort of creature had gotten him with its w, and how close it hade to killing the mage. The mine-road followed the river, but they turned off long before the camp maintained by the workers of the Hall of Bricyers and Masons.


    "Is it really safe?" Liv asked, following Master Grenfell uphill along a deer-path. Master Cushing had finally allowed her to set aside her crutch, and the ster had been knocked off her ankle. While she could walk, she didn¡¯t yet feel very confident about it. Even the skin around her ankle and calf was pale and tender. Her ribs had stopped aching, at least.


    "We killed just about everything that was corrupted by the eruption," the mage said in a dismissive tone. "If we doe upon something, consider it further training. But now what we want is a good, healthy young aspen. Something a bit thicker than your arm, perhaps. A sapling."


    "We could have gotten that a lot closer to Whitehill," Livined.


    "But then it would not be infused with mana," Grenfell pointed out. "Which is what we want. Wood that has been steeped in power since the moment it sprouted from a seed. We¡¯re in the shoal, now - can you feel it?"


    Liv stopped walking for a moment, and the older mage waited for her. She frowned, trying to feel if something was different in this part of the forest. "It¡¯s harder to breathe," she said, atst. "Like the air is thick. Or like we¡¯re under a nket."


    "That is the mana," Master Grenfell said. "The shoal is permeated with it, all the time. During the eruption, this whole area was flooded with just as much magic as you would find in the depths. Even now, this amount of power is dangerous. It can cause mana sickness if you stay too long, so we must be quick."


    He must not have been all that worried about speed, Liv decided a bellter, because the first three saplings she¡¯d pointed out had failed to pass some iprehensible test. The fourth, however, Master Grenfell found eptable.


    "Good," he said, finding himself arge boulder to sit on. "Now, cut it down."


    "With what?" Liv asked him.


    "Your magic, of course," the mage said with a smile. "Consider it a test."


    Liv scowled, then squared herself up to the tree. If she could kill a stone bat, she could cut a tree down. The only question, she decided, was how many frozen shards to use. She¡¯d found that it took less mana to cast her modified version of the spell Master Jurian had first taught her, and fling two or even three shards at once, than to try to cast a new spell for each shard. With an eye toward not using all twelve of her rings before they left the shoal, she decided on two shards, aimed as close together as she could manage.


    "Celent¡¯he Dvo Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae," Liv intoned. With every day of practice, the magic awakened more easily, and bent to her will with less of a struggle. Two daggers of ice shot forward, right next to each other, and carved out more than half of the sapling¡¯s trunk. Splinters flew in every direction, and the shards continued on, whistling off into the underbrush. The sapling creaked and swayed for a moment, then came down. Liv had to jump back to avoid being sideswiped by a branch.


    "Good," Master Grenfell said, rising to his feet. "I¡¯ll trim the branches; tests are all well and good, but we don¡¯t want to be here all day." With a muttered incantation, an arm-length de of bright blue mana surrounded his hand. It must have been as sharp as a kitchen knife, for he began lopping branches off one after the other, as easily as chopping carrots. When the sapling was trimmed sufficiently, they hauled it back down the slope together. By the time they¡¯d dropped the tree on the ground next to the carriage, Liv could do nothing but pull herself inside and copse on the bench.


    The driver spent a few momentsshing the cut sapling to the top of the carriage, and then they were off. Now that it had been pointed out to her, Liv felt it the moment they left the shoal.


    "If it¡¯s dangerous to stay there for long," Liv said, once she¡¯d had a drink from a wineskin, "how can the miners work?"


    "There is a reason they are paid well," Grenfell said. His face was red, and he loosened the cor of his doublet. "Most of them die young from mana sickness, or from bad air in the depths. Sometimes a tunnel copses. That is the worst."


    They managed to get back to the castle in time for the evening meal, but only just, and then Liv had to attend her lessons with Master Cushing the next morning, so it wasn¡¯t until nearly a dayter that any work could be done on the aspen wood.


    "I¡¯ve told you that I won¡¯t teach you enchanting, and I mean to hold to that," Master Grenfell exined to Liv when she joined him in his chambers. "I have neither the resources, nor the expertise that you will find at the college. I was never more than a middling enchanter myself, and I do not want to give you bad habits. But I have enough skill to do this."


    "What do we do first?" Liv asked with a grin.


    "First," Grenfell said, "you remove the bark." He handed her a dished de with three cutting edges. "This is called a spud. Get to work."


    The bark was not removed that afternoon, and Liv didn¡¯t see how breaking her back for two days in a row was teaching her anything about magic. On the second day of working with the spud - what a stupid name! - she got thest of the bark off, revealing the green wood beneath. She also managed to get herself blisters all over her hands; apparently, scrubbing pots and pans was a quite different kind of work.


    From there, Master Grenfell took over, though he did allow her to watch. With a variety of tools, he carved V?dic sigils in the wood. Once that was done, Liv apanied him into town for meetings with both a cksmith and a silversmith. The first was to cap one end of the staff with steel, so that it wouldst longer. The other was to fill the sigils carved into the wood with molten silver, which was at least interesting to watch.


    The final step of the process was the best. The older mage gave Liv strict instructions to stay quiet and out of the way, but he at least permitted her to watch. He sat with the staff in hisp, cradling it in both his hands, and chanted. Liv recognized a form of Aluth, which Master Grenfell had told her was the word used to manipte raw mana itself. Pressure built in the room, simr to what she¡¯d felt in the shoal, and then sparks andshes of blue-gold fire cracked up and down the staff, ring from the silver sigils.


    When it was done, the master mage slumped, breathing heavily, as if they¡¯d taken another trip up the mountain slope. "It is done," he said, after getting his breath back. "Come over and take it, apprentice."


    Liv scrambled to her feet and hurried across the room. When she took the staff, she couldn¡¯t help but smile. The wood of the staff was so pale that it might be mistaken for white, with a faint brown grain that was hardly noticeable after it had been polished. She set the steel-butt on the carpeted floor of Master Grenfell¡¯s chamber, and it took her weight easily.


    "This is much better than a crutch," she observed. "How does it work?"


    "A properly enchanted staff or wand," Master Grenfell exined, "such as this, provides a path of least resistance to the flow of mana. I¡¯ve told you that you are wasting much of your power, and why that is dangerous. The mana that escapes your control leaks out in all directions, much of it through your own flesh and blood. That uncontrolled magic is what causes mana sickness. Casting with this staff as an aid, that excess mana will be drawn into the wood, forced forward by the sigils, and focused into the spell you are casting. You will waste less, and infuse your spells with more mana at the same time. The biggest adjustment you will have to make is in the amount of mana you use: you will need less than you are used to."


    Grenfell rose. "Come along," he said, lifting his own wand from his desk. "There is no time like the present to practice. Let us go to the courtyard, and see what you can do."

 23. Steam in the Courtyard

    As she stepped out into the afternoon sun, Liv felt more and more nerves nibbling at the base of her stomach. It would have been one thing if Master Grenfell had taken her outside of the town, so that they could practice alone. As they made their way through the castle, however, it seemed they picked up every person who didn¡¯t have something to upy them at that particr moment, dragged along like dead leaves in a current.


    There were a half dozen castle guards, the ones who weren¡¯t on duty or sleeping at the moment. Liv recognized Piersing out of the kitchen, where he¡¯d no doubt been scrounging for something to snack on before the evening meal. Master Cushing came out of the keep and found a ce to stand, and his presence at least made Liv a little less worried about someone getting hurt.


    The horologes had rung the third bell of the day on their way downstairs, and that meant that every one of the three footmen had an hour of liberty before they needed to even begin setting tables in the great hall for the evening meal. Liv wasn¡¯t surprised to see Edward and Tom loitering about the edge of the courtyard, but she hadn¡¯t expected First Footman Archibald to be watching her. Mama and Gretta would be busy cooking, but even Lady Julianne and Sophie stepped out onto one of the keep¡¯s second floor balconies, affording them the best view of things.


    "There¡¯s no need to be nervous," Master Grenfell told her. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "This is not apetition; no one is being judged here. You cannot fail. We are here to find out what your magic can and cannot do. You aren¡¯t going to hurt me, or anyone else - and if there is an ident, you can see that Master Cushing is waiting right over there."


    "Everyone is watching me," Liv said. She fought against the instinct to hunch her shoulders and make herself smaller. During all the time she¡¯d been a scullion, and before that when she was only the cook¡¯s bastard daughter, the smartest thing to do had been to avoid attention at all costs.


    "That is because most of them have never seen high magic before," Grenfell exined. "And I imagine they¡¯ve heard rumors of what you can do. You likely know even better than I do how quickly gossip spreads among servants."


    That made Liv grin, and nod her head. Master Grenfell released her shoulder, turned, and walked ten paces away from her, until he was well across the courtyard. It wasn¡¯t exactly warm yet, but neither was it chilly. Liv set her new staff of pale wood and silver in front of her, and gripped it with both hands. It felt reassuringly solid, like a tree rooting her into the earth.


    "Before now, you¡¯ve managed no more than four spells beforeplete exhaustion," Grenfell called across the distance between them.


    "I couldn¡¯t have done that without drawing on the ring," Liv pointed out.


    Grenfell nodded. "Do not do that today. Leave it as an emergency reserve. You¡¯re going to find the staff helps you to cast without wasting nearly so much mana. Let us aim for three spells this afternoon, and hope that doesn¡¯t wear you outpletely. Show me the attack spell you used against the stone bats."


    Liv looked around for a straw archery target, but didn¡¯t see one. "Where am I aiming?" she asked.


    "At my chest," Grenfell said. "Don¡¯t worry about hurting me. Just do your best to break my defenses."


    Liv closed her eyes, and fell into the breathing patterns that Master Grenfell had begun drilling into her during her first lesson with him. In, hold, and out - three times, she repeated the process, until she felt her heart slow. The voices from the people gathered to watch them faded away. When she opened her eyes, the word of power was already stirring in anticipation.


    "Celent¡¯he Dvo Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae," Liv sung, lifting the staff of aspen wood and pointing it at Master Grenfell¡¯s chest. If the mana had been eager to rush out of her before, now it felt positively sucked out of Liv¡¯s body into the staff. One by one, the silver sigils in the length of the wood began to spill out blue light, streaked with gold. Two frozen shards appeared in front of Liv, hovered there for a moment, and then shot forward at Master Grenfell.


    "Aluth¨­ ais¡¯veh Novis perae Mae!" But as soon as the ice began to coalesce, the older mage shouted his own incantation in return, raising his slender wand of dark wood. Faster than Liv would have believed possible if she hadn¡¯t seen Master Jurian use the same spell, a round shield of pure blue mana, rippling with golden waves, sprung up only a few feet in front of Master Grenfell. The two des of ice hit the shield and shattered, raining splinters of frozen debris down onto the stones of the courtyard.


    Around them, those watching broke into a soft murmur of chatter. Liv saw one of the guards collect a few coins from the others. Above, on the balcony, Lady Julianne watched silently.


    "Good," Grenfell called back to her, allowing the shield to flicker and fade away. "We will find a bnce between how many shards you summon at once, and how many times you can cast the spell. We will test how many shards it takes you to break one of my shields, as well. But for now, let us measure your defenses. You created two walls of ice, to block the doors, I believe?"


    Liv nodded. "But they didn¡¯t hold."


    "Make one here, now," Master Grenfell instructed her. "Right in front of you."


    "There¡¯s nothing to anchor it to," Liv protested.


    "That shouldn¡¯t matter," the older mage pressed her. "You will not always have a convenient structure to build your defenses upon. Do as I have told you, Liv. Take your time."


    Perhaps Grenfell or Master Jurian could cause a wall of sheer ice to appear right in front of them, with nothing to attach it to, but Liv didn¡¯t think she could handle that just yet. Instead, she looked down at the stones of the courtyard. It wasn¡¯t much, but she thought that she could build up from there. She set her staff down on the ground, so that she had both hands, and flipped through her spell book until she had the right page. Not that there were very many with ink on them, at the moment.


    Liv set the book back on the ground, where she could see the writing, then crouched next to it, lifting her staff. She touched the tip of the wood to a stone to her left and a few feet in front of her, making sure to choose a spot within easy reach. "Celevet Aen Kveis," she sang, and drew the staff across the stones, from left to right.


    Mana hummed through her, and then out through the staff, sparking up in wisps. For a moment, Liv doubted that it would work. Then, a long strip of ice solidified across the stones. It built up inyers, as thick as her hand and anchored to the ground. The process was not by any means quick, and it was a constant drain on her, but slowly, the wall rose.


    By the time Liv was finished, the barrier was as tall as she was, as wide as she could stretch out her arms, and slightly less thick than at the base - perhaps three of her fingers, held together. Toward the edges, the ice was nearly clear, glinting in the rosey light of the setting sun - but in the middle, it was nearly solid white.


    "Good," Grenfell called, again. "Now step out from behind it. Get off to the side, Liv, so that you are well out of the way."


    Liv ducked down to pick up her book, closed it, and scampered off to the edge of the courtyard, to take a ce next to the guards.


    "Five coppers says he breaks it in the first try," Piers said. "You want in, Liv?"


    "You¡¯re betting against me?" she scolded him. "I¡¯m never bringing you dessert again."


    "Aluthent¡¯he Dvo Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae!" Master Grenfell shouted,shing his wand toward the wall of ice, the motion as sharp and quick as a kicking horse at the summer fair. A pair of shimmering blue knives, flickering with golden light, appeared in front of him and shot forward, striking the wall of ice. The first impact cracked the wall, and for a moment Liv thought her spell might hold. The second mana shard, however, shot right through the ice, breaking it into pieces that fell down onto the stones of the courtyard like winter hail.


    Another of the guards handed Piers a fistfull of copper coins, and Liv scowled.


    "Come back over here," Grenfell called over to her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Liv, we are testing your capabilities. Keep in mind that I¡¯ve had decades of practice, and you¡¯ve been doing this less than a season. Though your wall did not hold, it does have several advantages over a shield of raw mana, such as the one that I use. Can you think of any?"


    "Well, I could walk away from it, for one," Liv said, getting close enough that she wouldn¡¯t have to shout. "Like we just did. That means I can leave one behind, to protect someone else, and not worry about it. It doesn¡¯t seem like the one you usedsts that long."


    "No," the master mage agreed. "You are summoning a physical object into being; that object then persists, until some other force acts upon it. Given enough time and ess to stored mana, I suspect you could build an entire forification from ice, then leave it to be defended by men like these." He motioned with his wand in the direction of the loitering guards, and they flinched back. "A mana shield, on the other hand,sts only so long as I continue funneling mana into it. It is an immediate defense, not a persistant one. Now, what disadvantages does your wall have?"


    That was easy. "It¡¯s slower to make," Liv said. "Though I could try using Veh, like I did with the fox outside the wall. I heard you use it in your spell."


    "You can," Grenfell said, "and another day, I rmend that you do; it will draw more mana from you, but the staff should offset that somewhat. Today, we are focused onparing raw power. Last time, I had you set a wall and walk away, because I was attacking with sudden, shattering force. Now, we are going to test your endurance. Set yourself a new wall, and then continue using your mana to make it as thick as you can. I will do my best to melt it."


    Liv nodded, then returned to the spot where she¡¯d stood before. Part of the frozen base was still attached to the stones of the courtyard, and she intended to use it to build upon. She repeated her invocation, drew her staff over the remnant of the first wall, and began to build up a recement. She hadn¡¯t even finished before Master Grenfell called over to her.


    "I cannot recall whether I¡¯ve ever told you," the mage said. "But I was born the youngest son of thete Baron of Ashford. Let me show you my family¡¯s word of power." He raised his wand, and pointed it directly at Liv¡¯s head. There wasn¡¯t even anything between his eyes and hers, yet: her wall had only reached chest high.


    "?teret Fleia o¡¯Mae!" Grenfell shouted, and ance of fire shot forward from the tip of his wand. Liv ducked down beneath her wall, but the heat burst around her as steam billowed out from the melting ice. Just in front of her eyes, the wall¡¯s color faded from solid white to clear, with drops of water running down it. In a matter of heartbeats, the fire would finish melting the ice. When that happened, it would hit her.


    In desperation, Liv took a step back and set the end of her staff against the wall. "Celevet Aen Kveis," she muttered. "Celevet Aen Kveis." Over and over again she repeated the words, her staff ring to light as she forced as much mana as she could into the length of aspen wood, then through it into the only thing between her and a scorching hot plume of me.


    The ice thickened, welling up around the point where the end of Liv¡¯s staff touched the wall. Steam billowed around her in clouds, leaving Liv utterly unable to see anything that was happening around her. There was no way she could keep this up for long; she could already feel her body emptying of mana. Should she just jump aside, and hope Master Grenfell¡¯s fire missed her? She could pull mana from her ring, but he¡¯d told her to save that for an emergency. If this continued much longer, Liv decided, it would be one.


    She had just decided to make a run for it when the st of fire stopped. Trembling, Liv gasped for breath, huddled behind her deformed b of ice. Only when the steam had cleared enough for her to see did she emerge.


    The wall of ice no longer resembled anything of the name. It was more like a bowl or a cup turned on its side, curved inward. If Liv hadn¡¯t kept adding more and moreyers, making it thicker and thicker, the jet of fire would have long since burned a hole straight through it, and on to her.


    "Livy, dove," her mother¡¯s voice broke across the courtyard, and suddenly Liv found herself wrapped up in an embrace, the staff awkwardly trapped between her body and her mother¡¯s arms. "That was terrifying. Are you hurt?"


    "I don¡¯t think so." Liv shook her head. "Just tired, and sweaty."


    "Master Grenfell," Maggie Brodbeck said, turning on the mage. "How could you? You¡¯re supposed to be teaching her, not killing her."


    "I understand what it looked like, Mistress Brodbeck," Grenfell said, approaching. "But your daughter is safe. I could have cut off my spell at any moment, and Master Cushing is right here. We had no intention of letting any harme to Liv. I believe that she could withstand that attack, and she proved me correct."


    "It¡¯s alright, Mama," Liv said. "I¡¯m alright." She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d been entirely as safe as Master Grenfell was saying, but she also didn¡¯t want to stop learning about magic. She didn¡¯t want her mother to try to put a stop to her lessons.


    "A bit too sweaty for dinner, however," Lady Julianne said, crossing the courtyard with Sophie in tow. They must havee down from the balcony while Liv wasn¡¯t paying attention. "Everyone else, get back to work. The entertainment is over for today. Go along, now."


    "The journey of a mage is one of constant experimentation and reflection," Grenfell said, once Liv¡¯s mother had finally released her. "Your mana control is much better when you are using the staff, apprentice. Over theing days we will precisely measure the improvement. By the time we are done, you will be able to tell me exactly how many rings of mana each of your spells requires, both with and without your staff. In a true fight, you need to be able to track what you can still cast as your reserves are depleted. I will drill it into you until it is second nature. And when you have developed a new spell, we will do it all over again."


    "But none of that will be done this evening," Lady Julianne said. "Come along with me, Liv. You¡¯re entirely unfit for dinner. I apologize, Mistress Brodbeck, but I am absconding with your daughter. Perhaps you could send one of the girls to fetch clean clothes from her room, and bring them down to the hot spring."


    "I have a roast to finish, in any case," Mama said. "Go and get cleaned up, dove."


    Liv followed the baron¡¯s wife back into the keep, and then down a stone stair that led beneath the great hall. Deeper than the cers they went, to a ce that she had never been permitted in before.


    "Is it alright for me to be here?" Liv asked, her voice hushed. She had hardly ever had an actual bath; usually, she just used a wet cloth to clean herself.


    "If I say it is permitted, it is permitted," Julianne said. Followed by Sophie, they stepped out into arge room, all carved from stone, with a vaulted ceiling. The floor descended in a series of concentric steps, on all four sides of a rectangr pool. In the light of the oilmps on the walls, the water was sharp and clear, tinted a slightly odd shade that Liv couldn¡¯t quite put a name to. The entire room smelled faintly of eggs.


    "Master Cushing wouldn¡¯t allow me down here the entire time I was pregnant with Matthew," Lady Julianne said. "But now that¡¯s over with, I can enjoy one of the best parts of Castle Whitehill once again. Go ahead, dear. Get yourself cleaned up. Your clothes will be brought down shortly, and you can meet us in the great hall for dinner."


    "Thank you, mdy," Liv said, and made a curtsy.


    "I¡¯ve only bought you a reprieve," Julianne said, turning to leave. "Make certain to bring your book, a quill and a pot of ink to the table. Kazimir will be waiting for you, I should guess, and he¡¯ll make you work while you eat."


    Liv waited until the two women had gone back up the stairs, then shucked her clothing and slipped into the pool. The waters boiling up from beneath Whitehill were hotter than any bath she¡¯d ever had before, and they loosened muscles Liv hadn¡¯t even realized were stiff.


    Perhaps she could be a few momentste for the evening meal, she decided.

 24. Varuna

    Wren could almost smell the jungle, if she closed her eyes and ignored the salt-scent of the ocean, and the myriad vors of humanity¡¯s stench that permeated Calder¡¯s Landing. Behind her, the Swan of the Sea was already in the process of unloading sorely needed supplies from Lucania, but she was d to finally be leaving the square-rigged ship behind. She¡¯d packed away the winter clothes she¡¯d worn during her mission, and dressed in a loose cotton blouse, sandals, and a skirt.


    With a shrug of her shoulders, Wren settled her pack on her back, hefted the unstrung longbow in her left hand, and dove into the streets of the settlement. Calder¡¯s Landing had been hacked out of the jungle only eight years before, andpared to the established castle-towns and cities of Lucania, it looked like little more than an armed camp.


    The streets were packed earth that turned to mud every time it rained - which was often. The eastern coast and surrounding jungle got more water in a season than ces like Whitehill received in a year. Wren¡¯s boots squelched as she turned away from the rows of tents crammed with new arrivals, and walked in the direction of the Sign of the Dancing Lady.


    Wren would have preferred to just walk out through the stockade gate, wait until she was out of sight, and then take to the air. By The Mother, she would have rather flown the entire way, but the ocean between the continents was simply too wide. She would have fallen out of the sky from exhaustion and drowned long before she made it halfway.


    No, she was going to be cautious. Wren had been gone for months, and who knew what had happened while she¡¯d been away. Taika would, that was certain, so Wren kicked the dirt of the streets off her boots against the wooden steps that led up to themon room of the inn, then found herself a seat at the bar.


    "Wren Wind Dancer," Taika greeted her, with a broad smile and a mug of hot cacao. "It¡¯s been a long time, Red Shield. I half expected to never see you again - easy for a country girl to get swallowed up by the big city. Dinner and a room, before you head out?"


    "Just dinner, please," Wren said, epting the mug and taking a sip. The bite of ground Varunan peppers mixed into the cacao brought a smile to her lips, and she didn¡¯t try to fight it. "No one in Lucania gets this right," she said. Calder¡¯s Landing wasn¡¯t quite home, but it was a lot closer than the cold winter of Whitehill.


    "There¡¯s just something about the way the Drovers¡¯ Guild freezing works," Taika agreed. "Ruins the taste." The Eldish woman fetched a te with the day¡¯s prices listed, and set it on the counter in front of Wren. If the inkeep¡¯s pointed ears hadn¡¯t been a clear enough sign of her heritage, her white hair and the way her porcin skin blushed a light shade ofvender, rather than pink, made it certain. The old gods had designed the Eld for beauty, and the aesthetic tastes of the dead V?dim were said to have run to the exotic.


    Wren ran her finger over the menu, and her stomach rumbled. Over forty days at sea, with little more than ship¡¯s biscuits during thest leg, had left her with more than one sort of appetite. "All of this looks incredible," she admitted. "The soup, the octopus, and the cornbread." She reached into her belt pouch, counted out twenty copper pennies, and set them on the counter.


    Taika raised an elegant eyebrow. Everything about the Eld was too perfect by half. "That¡¯s quite a hefty tip," the innkeep remarked, not yet touching the coins.


    "I¡¯ve been gone for too long," Wren said. "I need to know what¡¯s happening before I go back into the jungle."


    "Fair enough," Taika said. "Calder and Wildheart are out on the Dawn Runner, somewhere south down the coast. The Triplets lost their healer in the jungle a week back, and are trying to hire a new one. There¡¯s a group of fresh mages from Coral Bay, just finished their journeyman culling, went out about a week ago and haven¡¯t been back yet."


    "Silica been ahunt, at all?" Wren liked to keep tabs on theings and goings of the closest wyrm. Iravata¡¯s children weren¡¯t exactly enemies, but they weren¡¯t exactly friends, either. A thousand years had made for a lot of drifting among the old alliances.


    "Not sincest flood season," Taika assured her, with a shake of the head. "No news from the Red Shield Tribe, either. Your father hasn¡¯t even been in to trade. Let me get your food together."


    Wren sipped her spiced cacao. A few mage guild teams off exploring the jungle was nothing new, and no concern to her. They would either get themselves killed, or clear out the worst of the mana beasts around Calder¡¯s Landing. That would make her journey easier, though there weren¡¯t a lot of threats that could trouble her once she took to the air, in any event. The problem was that she hadn¡¯t had a source of blood for the entire voyage. After a meal, that was going to be the first thing she had to take care of. Without blood, it would be a long trek on foot through the jungle.


    Taika brought her a bowl of soup first, and it was as tasty as ever: a simple turtle soup with eggs, and a bit of onion and lemon juice to add vor . The Elden woman¡¯s sess began with the fact she ran the only inn in the settlement, but she was smart enough to know she¡¯d eventually be disced if she didn¡¯t offer something more than that. Her solution was to serve the best food around. Wren blew on her spoon to cool each bite just a little, but other than that she ate steadily until it was all gone. By that time, the main dish had arrived: grilled octopus, dusted with Varunan pepper, with fresh baked cornbread on the side, both drizzled in fresh honey. Wren hadn¡¯t eaten so well since that fair in the mountains.


    When she was done, Wren left the Dancing Lady and found the local butcher, a Cound man named Geoffrey who¡¯de over on the second set of ships. In Lucania, it would have been dark by now, but Varuna was and of sun and heat, and the sky over the western jungle was still full of clouds painted in all the shades of dusk.


    "Mistress Wind Dancer!" Geoffrey greeted her, with a broad grin. He didn¡¯t stop slicing bacon off the carcass of a pig while he talked. "Wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d ever see you again. Figured you¡¯d finally been eaten by some monster in the jungle."


    "Nothing in there more dangerous than me," Wren told him, though they both knew it was a lie. "Got any fresh blood for me, Geoffrey?"


    He nodded. "I only just started this boar. One moment." The butcher set aside his knives, wiped his meaty hands on his apron, and fetched a stoppered y bottle, which he set on his work table. "Take a sniff and check."


    Wren lifted the bottle, pulled the cork, and sniffed. It was fresh pig¡¯s blood alright, no more than an hour old. "The usual price?" she asked. When Geoffrey nodded, she put a silver down, and took the bottle. The high price was as much for his silence as for the blood itself. The butcher was already back to work before she¡¯d turned around.


    With her pack over her shoulders, the unstrung longbow in one hand, and her bottle of fresh blood in the other, Wren headed over to the west gate in the stockade. There were two men guarding it, and one raised his hand as she approached.


    "Night¡¯s a dangerous time to be leaving," he warned her.


    "None of your business what happens to me out there," Wren told him. "Gate doesn¡¯t close until dark, and the sun isn¡¯t down yet."


    "We won¡¯t open it if youe running," his partner called after her, but she just walked past them. The settlement had originally been built along a high ridge that descended to a natural harbor, though Calder¡¯s Landing had gradually filled in the eastern slope of the ridge as it grew, down to the sea. The jungle was cleared for a mile in every direction past the stockade, giving the guards on watch a good view of any trouble that might be on the way well before it arrived. That was one of the reasons they¡¯d survived the first year.


    The moment Wren stepped into the jungle, the air changed. It was somehow both more fresh, and heavier,yered with the scents of flowers, fruits, and the fertile earth that supported so much life. She let the ferns brush her bare legs, and simply enjoyed the feeling ofing home atst. Then, she uncorked the bottle of pig¡¯s blood, raised it to her lips, and tipped her head back.


    The blood was only lukewarm, but it coursed down her throat like fire. When it hit her belly, the warmth spread, tingling, out through every bit of Wren¡¯s body, from the soles of her feet to her fingertips. She rolled her head to crack her neck, filled with power for the first time since she¡¯d taken passage on the Swan of the Sea. With a thought, Wren¡¯s body, and everything she wore or held, copsed in.


    It took only the space between heartbeats to turn into blood, and then back. A single downstroke of her wings, and Wren was soaring up through the jungle canopy into the twilight sky. She opened her mouth to send out a sound that no human could hear, and her bat-ears read the way it bounced and returned to her as easily as a book. She¡¯d been travelling blind for far too long.


    She flew west and then turned north, not halting until she¡¯d found the banks of the great Airaduin?, and by that time the stars were out. The moon was dark, but the ring that split the sky overhead gave more than enough light to see by, even on two legs. Wren fluttered down in bat form, then shifted once more to the shape of a human woman. Then, she set her pack and bow down next to the water. She dug through the bag, beneath her spare clothes, until she found a packet of dried herbs she¡¯d been saving the entire time she¡¯d been gone, along with a small turned wooden bowl.


    With water from the river, and a bit of y, Wren crushed the herbs in the bowl to prepare the dye. Then, she braided back all but a single strand of her hair, to get it out of the way. Thatst lock, she soaked in the dye, taking the time to let it dry and set into a kind of paste. She would return to her people looking like one of them, not like an easterner. While she waited, Wren removed a bundle of clothing from her pack, and carefully unwrapped it.


    Inside the bundle rested a statue of a voluptuous woman, carved from white stone. "Ractia," Wren murmured, beginning a prayer she¡¯d known for as long as she could remember. "Lady of Blood. Great Mother, hear me. Grant me your blessing. Watch over me and bind my wounds; bless my womb; strike down my enemies. We are born in blood, and we die in blood. I offer mine to you."


    Setting the statue down on the mud, Wren drew her hunting knife. She lifted her skirt high enough to prick her thigh, then smeared the drop of blood that resulted on the stone statue¡¯s belly. For a moment, the single drop lingered, dark against the pale stone, and then it seeped into the statue like soup into a piece of bread. A momentter, there was no sign it had ever been there.


    Wren wrapped the statue up again and carefully stowed it in her pack, then knelt at the bank of the river to wash the dye from her hair. It was too dark to see her reflection now, even by the light of the ring in the sky, but she knew there would now be a streak of deep purple in her dark hair. She unbraided the rest, shook her head, and let it all settle back in ce. Then, she shouldered her pack, lifted her bow, and took to the skies once again.


    North Wren flew, all that night, and stopped only to eat the next day when she found a grove of mango trees. There, shended and ate as a bat, until she felt enough strength return to her wings that she could press on. The jungle passed away, as thend grew more dry, until she finally came in sight of the mountains, hunched like the shoulders of green giants.


    She was halfway up the slope when she crossed into the shoal of the rift. From talk she¡¯d overheard at the Dancing Lady, Wren knew that both the Eld and the Lucanian mages were able to sense the transition due to the density of mana. For her part, she had to pay attention to the change in nt growth and the kinds of animals below her. Not far in, Wren caught the scene of woodsmoke and cooking meat, and followed it to the camp.


    This wasn¡¯t the usual flood season camp of the Red Shields; no, as Wren had expected, the bloodletters were waiting for her at the shrine, which had been built at the very center of the rift. She didn¡¯t know how long they¡¯d been at their sacrifices - it couldn¡¯t possibly have been the entire time she was gone. Perhaps they¡¯d seen portents of hering in the entrails. In any case, it wasn¡¯t the bloodletters she wanted - it was her father.


    Nighthawk Wind Dancer, chief of the Red Shield tribe, followed her descent with keen eyes. He was sitting in front of a cook fire on a makeshift bench made from a fallen tree trunk, gutting arge, dead pary. Until she¡¯d seen Lucanian pigs, she¡¯d never understood why the easterners called them ¡¯skunk pigs,¡¯ but there was an undeniable simrity. The corpse must have been seventy pounds, Wren figured, as she swooped in, shifting forms in midair tond on two feet.


    "Daughter," Nighthawk said, greeting her with a warm smile. "It has been too long since you left us. We have all missed you dearly." He set aside the half-dressed animal, wiped his hunting knife on a piece of cotton cloth he¡¯d had ready for the purpose, then sheathed it and rose. "Was your hunt sessful?"


    "I found the icon," Wren assured him, dropping to one knee. She slung her pack off her back, set it in front of her, and reached inside to find the bundle. In moments, she had the statue unwrapped, and held it out to her father.


    "Ractia," Nighthawk said. The name was like a sigh and a prayer wrapped together into one. "You have done well, Wren," her father told her, lifting the piece of white stone up to get a good look at it in the sunlight. "You have returned hope to our people. Come, let us take it to the bloodletters. They have been preparing for some time."


    Wren left her bag by her father¡¯s log; as the two set off, she saw one of her cousins, Calm Waters, hurry over to finish dressing the pary. Calm Waters and her husband had been trying for a child for six years, without sess, and it didn¡¯t appear they had been blessed by The Mother during the time Wren had been away.


    Side by side, Wren and her father trudged up to the summit of the mountain. They could have saved a great deal of time by taking to the air, but that would have shown ack of respect. The proper way to approach the shrine was as supplicants.


    Half a dozen bloodletters, wearing their jaguar-skin cloaks, surrounded the stone altar. The sacrificial basin, a deep bowl carved into the surface of the altar-top, was still wet and sticky with fresh blood from the most recent sacrifice. Wren noticed that it had been a monkey, and knew that the carcass would be cleaned for food.


    "My daughter has returned!" Nighthawk shouted, and all the bloodletters turned to observe their approach. Wren¡¯s father walked straight up to the altar, the statue of Ractia held up in his hands.


    "Are you certain she has brought the correct icon?" one of the bloodletters asked.


    "It was taken from Godsgrave," Wren answered. "I tracked it to a collection high up in the mountains, in a ce called Whitehill."


    "There is only one way to know for certain," Nighthawk said. With a sudden, brutal movement, he smashed the statue into the top of the altar. The white statue shattered, leaving behind only fragments of stone and powder - and something else. Something that did not fit with the rest.


    "It looks like the ss the easterners use for their windows," Wren observed.


    Her father brushed aside the debris, and lifted something like a seedpod: long, rounded, and thin. The object seemed far too delicate to have survived the chief¡¯s blow, but there it was, undamaged. The entire thing was translucent, like a handful of water from the river.


    Inside, they could all see a reservoir of blood. Nighthawk tipped it to one side, and the blood moved. After however many years it had been hidden in that statue, it was still fresh enough not to have congealed or dried out.


    "It is the blood of The Mother herself," Nighthawk Wind Dancer muttered. "It is our salvation. The Lady of Blood will return to us. Our goddess will live once again."

 25. Mountain Home

    Keri drew a robe of white fox-fur across his shoulders: while the calendar used by the Kenth?oria would mark the day as well into flood season, the slopes of Menis Breim had not yet seen a thaw.


    "You¡¯re restless."


    He turned back to where Rika t?r Kalevis k?n B?lris, his kwenim, remained wrapped in a nest of furs and pillows, her long hair tussled and spread out around her head like the spray at the bottom of a waterfall. Rika¡¯s cheeks were still flushed, as was the skin just beneath her corbone, peeking out from above the nkets. She didn¡¯t look like she had the slightest intention of getting out of bed in the near future.


    "I want to talk to my father about what we found at Keremor," Keri admitted. "It worries me."


    "Your father and Sohvis will have it under control, whatever it is," she assured him. "If it¡¯s kept without you for this long, it will keep a little while more. Are you certain I can¡¯t persuade you toe back to bed?"


    For a moment, Keri considered it. He¡¯d never fully appreciated just how enjoyable being bound to a woman would be; he and Rika had grown up together, but this new element of their rtionship had most certainly changed things. Instead, he walked back over to the bed of polishedrchwood, leaned down, and kissed her.


    "I can¡¯t get it out of my mind," Keri exined, running one hand along her forehead and back into her hair. "It¡¯s going to gnaw at me until I know what¡¯s happening. Now that we¡¯ve been joined a full month, he can¡¯t put me off any more with excuses."


    "He can¡¯t put you off with this particr excuse," Rika corrected him, with a mischievous grin. "I¡¯m certain he will have entirely new reasons for you to do what he wants."


    "You¡¯ll still have the worst of it," Keri teased her. "Now they¡¯ll all be asking you when to expect a child."


    "All the more reason for me to stay in bed," Rika grumbled, turning over onto her side and wrapping the furs more tightly around her body. "Close the door on your way out."


    Keri did as she asked, though he didn¡¯t expect anyone would being into their new quarters without permission, anyway. Their sitting room was appointed in the same style as the bed chamber, matching the rest of Mountain Home in all but details.


    While the bones of the sprawling manor were granite, much of the interior was sheathed in wood. The floors, for instance, the frames of the double-paned windows, and most of the furniture were all crafted fromrch trees, one of the few species hardy enough to survive in the taiga. Atop the polished wood were thrown plush fur rugs, carefully harvested over the years from a variety of northern animals, including bear, wolf, and fox. Rabbit furs were generally too small to be used for such purposes, even if they became mana beasts.


    The carved furniture was ornamented with scrimshaw: door and drawer handles, oilmp fittings, even the new horologes with the innards purchased and shipped from Al¡¯Fenthia not twenty years ago. It was all quitefortable, particrly with heating sigils worked into the floors. The enchantments kept everything warm enough that Keri hardly needed the robe, but he wasn¡¯t certain exactly where he would find his father, and he didn¡¯t want to be unprepared if he needed to step outside.


    Keri paused with his hand at the door of the sitting room. His N?v¡¯bel leaned against the corner of the room, right where he¡¯d left it. His hand itched to take the spear in hand, but that was only the memories of the shrine in the forest. There was no need for him to go armed here: the guards at the watchtowers would have sounded the rm at the smallest sign of danger. Leaving his weapon behind, Keri closed the door behind him and set out looking for his father.


    As it turned out, he found his cousin Sohvis, first. Sohvis ka Auris k?n B?lris was only a year older than Keri, and closer to a brother than the son of his aunt. He was just inside the armory, with the door ajar, and half stripped out of his armor.


    "Need help?" Keri offered.


    "It would speed things up," Sohvis agreed, pulling an enchanted vambrace off and setting it in ce on his armor stand.


    Keri stepped into the room and maneuvered himself behind Sohvis, where he could begin working at the fastenings that held the cuirass onto the backte. "Father had you out on patrol, then?" he asked.


    Sohvis shook his head, sending locks of blonde hair flying in every direction - they were long enough to get in Keri¡¯s way. "No," his cousin said. "The elders sent us down to Cold Harbor. We found the woman who made your altar."


    "It isn¡¯t my altar," Keri quibbled, then helped Sohvis out of his enchanted te. "It was a woman, you said? Just one?"


    "One that we found," Sohvis corrected him. "A whaler¡¯s wife named Severa. They¡¯re gathering to question her now, and I wanted to get there before they start."


    "I¡¯lle with you," Keri offered. Between the two of them they had Sohvis out of the rest of his armor quickly enough, and each piece stored in the ce prepared for it. When they were done, they closed the door to the armory, allowing the sigils that warded the room to reconnect.


    "How¡¯s Rika?" Sohvis asked, as the two young men hurried through the halls of Mountain Home. "I haven¡¯t seen much of her since the joining ceremony."


    "She¡¯s well," Keri said, unable to keep a smile from curving his lips. "When I left her, she¡¯d stolen all the furs and gone back to sleep."


    Sohvis cleared his throat. "They¡¯re questioning her in the council chamber."


    Under normal circumstances, neither Keri nor Sohvis would have been allowed to enter the council chamber without an express invitation. On this asion, however, the guards at the door merely inclined their heads and allowed the two friends to pass. Within, Keri¡¯s father, Imari, sat in the center of a group of half a dozen elders. At his right hand, his younger sister, V?ina T?r V?inis k?n B?lris, noticed them enter. She inclined her head ever so slightly to her son, Sohvis, which Keri chose to interpret as approval of their attendance.


    The whaler¡¯s wife knelt in the center of the circr chamber, on the floor. She was chained, with two guards standing just behind her. It was strange, Keri thought: there was nothing to pick her out from any one of a score of other young women from Cold Harbor. He wondered for a moment just what trail had led Sohvis on his hunt; Keri¡¯s life had been consumed with ceremonies leading up to the joining, and then celebrations after. He would have to do something to thank his friend for taking up the duties that should have been his, Keri decided.


    "Do not think to deceive us," Ilmari ka V?inis, head of the Council of Elders, warned the woman. Severa, that was her name, Keri recalled. "You are bound in chains that have been enchanted with the word of truth. No deception will stand before this council. Was it by your hand the shrine of blood was built in the shoals of Keremor?"


    "Not by my hand," Severa said, her voice small in the great chamber of stone. "Though I did sacrifice there, to the Great Mother."


    Ilmari leaned forward, his eyes burning with the light of his word. "Not the crime of a lone woman, then. Give me the names. Who built the shrine? Who else worshiped there? Who else took part in these foul sacrifices?"


    The woman held her tongue, then smiled. "Your chains can¡¯t make me speak," she realized, with augh. "You want the truth, Elder? Here it is, then. I¡¯ve done nothing wrong. You call yourselves the great, the proud, Unconquered House of B?lris. The Eld who were never defeated. What do we owe the traitors, then? Why should we not worship as we wish? I waited and waited for a child, but never was my wish granted until I prayed to the Mother of Blood. And now, will you execute me while a child of the Eld finally grows in my womb?"


    "Nothing goodes of worshipping the old gods," Ilmari¡¯s voice broke over the murmuring of the elders. "This lesson has been taught a thousand times in a thousand years. Whatever shadow of them remains at Godsgrave, has be a thing so twisted and evil that all it touches is corrupted. I do not me you for your sorrow and your grief, Severa, but what you have done is not the way. You would make us all ves again, out of your own selfishness."


    "And yet," his sister, V?ina, interrupted, "if she truly is with child, the life within her is innocent. We do not punish the child for the crime of the parent."


    "Anything that springs forth from a womb cursed by the Lady of Blood will be corrupt," Ilmari argued. "Better the child never be born, than it be cursed to such a fate."


    "You think this is the only one?" Severa asked, thenughed aloud. Keri felt his stomach grow cold and unsettled, as if he¡¯d eaten bad meat. "There must be a score of children, not only at Cold Harbor, but here at Mountain Home. Are you going to hunt down each and every child, and put them to death? Do you think your people would stand for the Council of Elders to stain their hands with the blood of so many babies? And you call what I did evil?"


    "I will have the names," Keri¡¯s father growled, leaping to his feet. "Of every person who worshiped at that damned shrine."


    "Just the one?" Severa gasped, in betweenughter. "Or did you want to hunt everyone who honors the mother throughout the north?"


    "Take her to a cell," Ilmarimanded, his eyes turning to the guards. "See that she is examined by a healer. We would know whether she is with child, or not. Perhaps solitude will loosen her tongue. This meeting of the council is at an end."


    As the guards dragged the struggling woman away, Keri and Sohvis shared a look, then approached the council seats. "Father," Keri said, inclining his head. "Aunt."


    "You should be enjoying time with your kwenim," Aunt V?ina chastised him, though she embraced Keri nheless. "You look well, though. Sohvis, you did well tracking the criminal down. The Council is grateful for your service." She released Keri and wrapped her arms around her son.


    "If her words were true, this is a rot upon our house," Keri¡¯s father muttered. "Could there truly be so many? Have they forgotten what it was like, to serve the old gods? Do they care so little for freedom?"


    "Freedom does not bring a child to an empty house," V?ina responded. "Walk with us, boys," she said. "Let we four speak away from prying ears."


    "Yes," Ilmari said. "Come. What we must do is not for all to know."


    Keri and Sohvis managed to hold their tongues until they were not only out of the council chamber, but out of the sprawling manor entirely. Once their steps scraped against the granite walks that wound between the steaming bathing pools, sheltered beneath the spreading boughs of the northern pines, then finally Keri spoke.


    "We need to send word to the other houses," he said. "If what this woman said was true, there could be a cult spread throughout the entirety of the north. This isn¡¯t the kind of prey that we can hunt alone, father."


    Ilmari grunted. "I understand your view," he said. "But it is too early for such a step. The chains ensured only that she spoke the truth as she understood it. I harbour doubts about how deep in the confidence of such a cult a simple whaler¡¯s wife from Cold Harbor would be. She must have had rumors, certainly, but it is up to us to ferret out the truth of them. We begin by cleansing our own house, by ripping out every weed that has sprouted, root and stem. Sohvis, you will takemand of our men. My son has other duties."


    "Father," Keri protested. "Let me do what I¡¯ve been trained to do. If our House is truly under threat, do not hold me aside."


    "Your task is more important," Ilmari said, halting his steps. He took Keri by both shoulders. "We dwindle. You are myst surviving son, and of all the descendants of B?lris who have lived and died over thest eleven-hundred years, your generation numbers only three. Your cousin can lead our men as well as you can, Inkeris. Of you, I ask something far more important. You must give our House an heir."


    Keri blushed. "That hardly takes every moment of every day, father," he grumbled.


    "He is correct," Aunt V?ina broke in. "Let Keri help, brother. This hunt will begin close to home. If the trail leads far afield, then my son can pick up the hunt, and Keri can remain here with Rika. A child wille when the gods will it to be so. In the meanwhile, let our people see both our sons working together. It will give them confidence."


    "Very well, Sister," Ilmari conceded, with a huff. "Inkeris will havemand so long as this investigation is confined to our house¡¯snds. If an expedition must be sent out, then Sohvis will lead it. The two of you will work together, as it has ever been. You have ourplete faith, but you will report to the council once each month on what you have found. Any cultists that you capture will be brought before us for questioning. Do you both understand your task?"


    "Yes, Father," Keri said, and Sohvis echoed him.


    "Good. Inkeris, remain with me a moment," Ilmarimanded.


    "Come, Sohvis," Aunt V?ina said, taking her son¡¯s arm in her own. "I have a proposal for you from the House of Asuris, and there is a letter included from the young woman herself. Let me show it to you."


    "I¡¯ll look for you after," Keri told his cousin, and Sohvis nodded in agreement. His father took him by the elbow, and led him further down the stone paths. Steam rose to either side of them; at this time of day, there were few people bathing in the pools.


    "I do not understand why anyone would turn to one of the dead gods," Keri said, once they were out of earshot. "No matter how desperate."


    "I hope that you never have cause to say otherwise," Ilmari said. "You know that our numbers are shrinking."


    "So they say," Keri said. "But I do not have your many years of perspective, Father."


    "Is that a clever way of telling me that I¡¯ve grown old?" Ilmariughed. "Don¡¯t I know it."


    "It wasn¡¯t quite what I meant," Keri said, with a smile. "But if that is the meaning you take..."


    "How is your kwenim?" his father asked. "I¡¯ve hardly seen Rika since the joining ceremony, but I suppose that is as it should be. The concerns of the world will crowd in soon enough; I suppose it has already begun. I wanted you both to have at least a little time with each other, to learn what it is to be joined."


    "She is well," Keri said. "Though I think we are both starting to get a little restless. I know she spent yesterday afternoon making notes for a new interpretation of the sword dance."


    "That will be good, when she is ready," Ilmari said. "A performance will give our people something to speak about other than this nasty business. The truth is, my son, that our creators never designed us to oust them. We were shaped for their convenience, not to be our own people. And they never needed as many of us as they needed our younger siblings. There is a reason we sometimes call them fireflies."


    "Kenth?oria," Keri said. "The field ves. They call themselves humans."


    "Yes," Ilmari agreed. "In their case, numbers were a good thing. They died in the mines, they died fishing at sea, they broke their backs in the fields. There was always a need for more to rece those who were lost, and so they were designed to be fertile. That was never our purpose. I havee to believe the only thing that has carried us this far is the V?dic blood, and that runs more thin with each sessive generation. Which is why," he finished, "matching you with your cousin was so important."


    "I know this, Father," Keri said.


    "B?lris was my grandfather," Ilmari said. "Though I never knew him. One quarter of the blood in my veins is V?dic. For you and Rika, that proportion is only one eighth. By matching the two of you, at least the blood will not dwindle any further. My days have grownte, my son. Let me know that our house willst, before I pass from this world."


    "We will, Father," Keri assured him. "You don¡¯t need to worry. You have plenty of time left, and when you are done I will take your ce."


    Ilmari ka V?inis put one arm around his son¡¯s shoulders. "You¡¯re a good son," he said, after a moment. "Alright, then. I entrust this to you. Hunt down this cult. Find them all. Dig them out of whatever dark holes they¡¯ve dug for themselves, Inkeris, and shine the light of B?lris on them. Burn every trace of this darkness away."

 26. Harvest

    As flood season passed, the snow melted away. First, from the Aspen River valley, andter from even the mountain sloped shaded by the trees. Only the highest peaks of the surrounding mountains retained their white caps, which they would wear for the entirety of the year.


    The people of Whitehill gathered the droppings left behind by the stonebats, and used the guano to fertilize their fields. Liv understood it was back breakingbor, but since she didn¡¯t actually do any of it herself, she was more impressed by the results. As flood season passed into the beginning of harvest season, the crops surrounding the town grew faster, taller, and more vibrant than in any year that she could remember.


    She saw more of the fields than she had in other years, because Master Grenfell, Master Forester, and James, one of the castle guards, took her out into the countryside regrly. The training James gave her was the simplest: it required little to no thought at all, but the physical effort left her exhausted. One day, he might set her to hike a trail halfway up Deer Peak, west of the town. By the time she¡¯d gone up and down again, Liv¡¯s calves and thighs felt like limp, uncooked rolls of pie dough. When the river was no longer dangerously high, he made her swim or tread water until she could hardly stay afloat. Other times, he simply made her run around the walls of Whitehill, starting on the bank of the Aspen River to the north of the castle, then circling around the town until she returned to the river south of where she¡¯d begun.


    It should have been somefort that the physical exertion became easier over time. James was sparse with praise or encouragement, but he did give it asionally, and even Liv could tell that she was building stamina over time. But the truth was, she didn¡¯t care about bing physically fit. It was hard to see it as anything but a distraction from developing her magic.


    Master Forester¡¯s training, on the other hand, had immediate and enjoyable benefits. Emma had turned six years old during the hottest part of the year, and the three of them would venture out into the forest north of the city, making for the silhouette of Bald Peak looming high above. The culling had cleared out anything dangerous, and the overflow of raw mana had subsided, but that just meant the rift had returned to its normal level of activity.


    Emma¡¯s father would bring down a rabbit, or perhaps a quail, with an arrow from his bow. Then, he would show the girls how to dress the kill. By the time harvest season was approaching, he had the two of them skinning the small mana beasts under his careful observation. Kale Forester was a quiet man, most of the time, but he was also patient, and always willing to answer any question that Liv asked, or demonstrate to the girls once again how to make a particr cut. With his guidance, Liv had even purchased a set of hunting knives of her own, using coins the girls had earned from selling dressed game to Master Grenfell. What they didn¡¯t sell, they cooked, often around a freshly dug fire.


    Liv had helped her mother and Gretta in the castle kitchen for as long as she could remember, but there was something both fascinating and primitive about cooking an animal she¡¯d dressed, on skewers over a fire she¡¯d lit. Master Forester showed them wild herbs that could be used to vor the meat, as well. The only thing that dampened her enthusiasm slightly was that neither Emma nor her father would eat the game they cooked with her.


    "It isn¡¯t safe," the hunter had exined, shaking his head firmly. Liv was fascinated by the way his bushy beard moved. "For a mage like you, eating mana-infused meat helps to restore the magic you use when you cast spells. Don¡¯t look so surprised," Master Forester told her with a grin. "I¡¯ve been culling enough times with Master Grenfell to see how it works. When he¡¯s nearly exhausted himself, that¡¯s when I pull out a bit of jerky to set him right again. Which reminds me, I need to show you girls how to make a smoker. But anyway, for Emma and I, it would just be dangerous. Like as not to cause mana sickness."


    Liv nodded; that made sense. She¡¯d seen the bandages on Kale Forester¡¯s arms in the weeks following the return of the culling team. "That just means I have to eat it all, then," she decided, with a grin.


    The change in her diet was living up to Master Cushing¡¯s hopes, if not her own. Liv hadn¡¯t had another month of growing half an inch, like the first, but the old Chirurgeon considered a quarter inch a month to be progress enough. By the time harvest approached, she¡¯d gained two whole inches.


    "I thought it would be more," Livined, after Master Cushing had taken her measurements.


    "Two inches and seven pounds is good growth," the old man assured her. "Don¡¯t let your hopes run away with you, Miss Brodbeck. It¡¯s good enough that we¡¯ve found the food you need to eat, now. If the Eld had been a bit less secretive, we might have saved you a lot of trouble, but it¡¯s toote for that now. You¡¯ve missed a dozen years of proper growth. Be thankful for whatever you gain, now, but don¡¯t expect to ever be a giant walking among us. There¡¯s simply too much ground for you to make up."


    It was disappointing, but on the other hand, Master Cushing had loosened his restrictions on her activities somewhat. She would be permitted to skate on the ice when winter returned, and the first time she took a tumble while runningps around the town, it was an exhrating feeling of relief when Liv realized that she hadn¡¯t broken a bone. The only thing that remained off the table entirely wasbat training in the courtyard, but Liv hadn¡¯t wanted to do that anyway - not after seeing how badly the castle guards beat each other up.


    She and Master Cushing regrly attended the morning sparring sessions, so that Liv could practice what the old man was teaching her. She was forced to identify every injury, and if either of the two charms Rhea the Midwife had ced in her spellbook could be used, Liv practiced them. Small cuts were easy enough, and she could soothe bruises, but anything worse was the province of Master Cushing and one of his several enchanted wands. For the worst wounds, Liv often found herself numbing the pain while the chirurgeon worked.


    "This is disgusting," Liv said one morning, trying not to look at the way Piers¡¯ finger had burst like an overstuffed sausage. A wooden practice sword had caught the man¡¯s first finger against the hilt of his own weapon, in a sharp blow. There was blood everywhere.


    "You do the charm for pain well, at least," Piers said. His face was pale, and he refused to look at his finger either. "I can¡¯t feel anything, any more."


    "No practice for at least a week," Cushing pronounced, when he was done. "And see Liv daily to change the bandages."


    "Me?" Liv protested. "Not you?"


    "You can wrap a linen bandage without my help," the chirurgeon shot back. "And it¡¯s good practice for you. Come along, now, let¡¯s see whether anyone in town needs us."


    When the courtyard sparring sessions didn¡¯t provide enough practice to meet Aldo Cushing¡¯s requirements, he would summon a carriage and take Liv down from the hill into The Lower Banks. Every time she entered the neighborhood, Liv found herself keeping one eye out for Jo, but she never saw the girl.


    There were plenty of other children who had the same half-starved look, however, and they often sported all manner of minor injuries that had never been properly treated. Liv learned how to treat not only fractured fingers or toes, but how to drain blisters or pull rotten teeth. None of it was pleasant work, and her own magic was nearly entirely useless for it. The only thing she managed to use her word of power for was targeted chilling, to bring down swelling.


    "If you ever decide to license that to the Order of Chirurgeons," Cushing told her on several asions, "We would pay for it. Physicians all over the kingdom could be using wands enchanted with your power, Liv."


    "I¡¯m not certain that I can," she admitted. Later, during her lessons with Lady Julianne, she asked the question directly.


    "It falls into something of a legal gray area," the baron¡¯s wife exined, passing little Matthew over to Liv so that she could stand up. Julianne¡¯s sitting room had long since been repaired of the damage caused by the stonebats, and she selected a single volume out of a set of one dozen, removing it from her bookshelf and carrying it back over. Liv, in the meanwhile, bounced Matthew on her knee, while the little boy giggled.


    "Cel is not a word of power legally registered to any noble family in the kingdom," Julianne exined, thumbing through pages to find what she wanted. "In fact, given that the original criteria for elevation to the aristocracy was proof of sole possession of a word of power, under the oldws you could im a title yourself."


    "That can¡¯t be right," Liv said, frowning. "No one would actually ever treat a bastard scullion like a baroness." Matthew wrapped his small fingers around her thumb, gripping with surprising strength.


    "You¡¯d be surprised how much power will change the way people behave," Julianne remarked. "But no, I said that was the original criteria. Thosews have long since been changed. What is much more likely, nowadays, is that a young nobleman would seek to bring your magic into his family with a proposal of marriage. But that doesn¡¯t answer your question. The only precedent on record regarding your word of power is the license held by the Drovers¡¯ guild, from the House of Syv?. That agreement recognizes that, under thews of the Kingdom of Lucania, the right to license Cel is exclusive to that particr Elden family. So no, you could not do what Master Cushing is suggesting - not unless you were legally recognized as a member of that house."


    "But I can use my magic, at least," Liv said. The fear that the sheriff would arrest her for her magic had never entirely gone away, though she hadn¡¯t dwelt on it for months.


    "That is clear cut. Unlike our aristocracy, the Eld have never made any effort to ouw use of their words of power." Julianne closed the book, and set it aside. "In fact, as far as I can tell, they¡¯ve gone out of their way to do the opposite. Privately, I suspect they are much more free about exchanging magic than we are."


    Liv wrinkled her nose. "Someone needs to be changed," she remarked, and that ended the discussion.


    While it was enjoyable to eat the food she brought in with Master Forester, and somewhat satisfying to note her own growth and increased physical stamina, the only part of her lessons that Liv viewed as truly fun were the afternoons, when she was allowed to push her magic with Master Grenfell.


    As the master mage had promised, weeks of careful experimentation, measurement, and note taking had resulted in precise measurements of how much mana Liv¡¯s spells used. As a result, her spell book now had notes incorporated into each entry:


    Frozen Shards


    Celent¡¯he (number) Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae


    Number: Dvo, Trei, Cetve, Encve, Svec¡­


    Dvo: 3 rings of mana (2 with staff)


    Trei or Cetve: 4 rings of mana (3 with staff)


    Encve or Svec: 5 rings of mana (4 with staff)


    Ice Chute


    Celet Aimac Belia o¡¯Mae


    5 or more rings of mana


    Icewall


    Celevet Aen Kveis


    4 rings of mana (3 with staff)


    Liv, in the meanwhile, had now been measured at being able to hold thirteen rings of mana.


    "It is no surprise," Master Grenfell had exined. "You are only just beginning to explore your magic; the first few years are a time of rapid growth, and I would not expect you to hit a teau for some time yet. All the more reason that your training be rigorous and deliberate."


    In this case, ¡¯rigorous and deliberate¡¯ meant that Liv was looking down from the peak of Deer Peak, a thousand feet above the valley, with all the fields surrounding Whitehill and the town itselfid out below. James and Master Forester had lugged half a dozen of the old, round wooden shields up to the heights with them, while Emma bounced on the tips of her toes in anticipation.


    "I¡¯m not certain I can make it all the way to the bottom," Liv warned them. At the beginning of flood season, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to make it all the way up the mountain without stopping to rest. Now, she was a bit winded, but thought she would only need a few moments to catch her breath. In the meanwhile, she was grateful for her staff to lean on.


    "You have your staff, and your ring, to assist you," Master Grenfell reminded her. "We are testing your limits. Do not be concerned about holding anything back; you won¡¯t be walking down, in any event." The grin on the older mage¡¯s face was lessforting than Liv might have hoped for: he looked more like a giddy boy with a new toy than an experienced schr.


    "Please, Liv!" Emma begged. "You have to do it. This is going to be the best thing ever!"


    "I don¡¯t know," her father muttered. "It is quite a way down. If you don¡¯t feel up to it, Liv, you don¡¯t need to do this."


    Liv took a deep breath, practicing the calming exercises Master Grenfell had taught her months ago. "Celet Aimac Belia o¡¯Mae," she said, pronouncing the words with a confidence that was still new to her. She extended her staff, pouring mana through it and then down onto the ground. One after the other, the silver sigils in the length of aspen-wood lit, glowing bright enough to shine even beneath the afternoon sun.


    The ice built slowly at first, as if the warmth of the day resisted the cold, and then broke forward all at once, shing down the mountain away from Liv¡¯s feet. The chute cut across the slope at an angle, then curved around toe back the other way. This was going to be a dangerous ride, no matter what she did, but Liv wouldn¡¯t allow it to kill anyone. The curves should do to bleed off speed, and she built the outer edges of the turns up high, adding extrayers of ice.


    By the time the track had beenid all the way down the slope, Liv had indeed needed to draw from her ring until it was empty. In the end, there had been just enough mana to create a bowl at the bottom of the mountain, a ce for the ride to end.


    "There," she gasped. "There it is. Who¡¯s going first?"


    "I suppose one of us should try it," Piers muttered. "To make sure it¡¯s safe. We should have had Master Cushing waiting at the bottom."


    Before he could lift a shield, however, Emma snatched the top one out from beneath him with a squeal of glee. She dashed over to the top of the shoot and flung herself down on her belly, shield first, and shot off before anyone could do anything to stop her. The little girl¡¯s peals ofughter and shrieks of joy echoed off the mountains surrounding the valley as she sped out of sight.


    "Emma!" Kale Forester called after her, then cursed. He lifted the next shield, set it at the top of the chute, and mbered on gingerly. "How do I start it -" he muttered, and then his voice rose in a panicked scream as he picked up speed, heading for the first turn.


    Liv looked at Master Grenfell for a long moment, and then together they burst outughing. "I¡¯m next!" the older mage called, and ran over to grab his own shield. Liv waited for him to be off, then motioned the two castle guards to go next.


    "I¡¯ll gost," she said. She wanted just a moment to enjoy watching everyone else speed down the mountain, to listen to their shouts andughs. All of the measurements, all of the careful study and work, even the terrifying moments when the stonebat came through the door and leapt at her: they were enough to make her forget that her magic could be fun.


    Liv turned about the top of the mountain. In every direction, she could see the world spread out around her, falling away down to the tiny homes and farms below. On impulse she reached her hand up. Here, it almost seemed possible to reach out and touch the sky.


    Then, Liv lifted thest shield, set it down in the chute, and pushed off to follow the others down.


    When they finally made it back to Castle Whitehill that evening, it was to find a guest had arrived in advance of theing harvest. The kitchen was bustling, and even the guards on duty were talking in hushed tones.


    "Who is it?" Liv asked, setting her staff against the wall of the armory, as Piers and James carried the scuffed shields inside to be stored.


    "A merchant from Al¡¯Fenthia,e for the harvest," one of the older guards told her.


    Liv felt as if the air had gone out of her lungs. After so many years, the Eld had once againe to Whitehill.

 27. Airis Ka Reimis

    "I think you should consider eating in the kitchen tonight, dove," Liv¡¯s mother said.


    After dropping the shields off, Liv had hurried upstairs to her room to change, and found her mother waiting for her. She frowned, set her staff to lean into the corner of the room where it wouldn¡¯t fall, and began to uce her bodice. After hiking up Deer Peak, she needed to change into clothes that weren¡¯t soaked in sweat. "I love to cook with you and Gretta," she said. "But I don¡¯t really know the new hires very well. And I get the sense they don¡¯t want to talk to me very much."


    "All the more reason to get to know them," her mother insisted. It was very odd, because any other time the castle was hosting guests, Liv knew that Mama would be hurrying about the kitchen as if her hair was on fire to make sure every part of the meal would be perfect. Lady Julianne had told her that when the way someone was acting wasn¡¯t normal, it was time to pay attention. It might be important to find out why.


    "Juste out with it, Mama," Liv said, kicking her shoes off and heading over to the closet where her clean dresses hung. "Tell me why."


    Margaret Brodbeck sighed, walked over to Liv¡¯s bed, and sat down on the stuffed mattress. "Do you remember why I¡¯ve avoided telling you who your father is?" she asked.


    "Because you¡¯re afraid of something," Liv said, looking from one dress to the next. The outer fabric of both were dark gray, which would be appropriate for her to wear. It was only the choice of lining before her, really.


    "Right now, no one is entirely certain whose daughter you are, and how you fit into the world of the Eld," Mama exined. "Outside of Whitehill and Master Jurian, I daresay most people don¡¯t even know you exist. Even that pension from the king - scores of those are given out each year, as rewards. There is a kind of safety in not being known, and you need time, my love. Time to grow up."


    Liv selected a dress, took it down, and carried it over to the bed, setting it down next to her mother. "Mama," she said. "I¡¯ve never even seen one of my father¡¯s people. I want to know what they look like, how they talk. Do they look like me? Or am I like a mule - neither horse, nor donkey?" She shrugged. "No one even knew what I needed to eat. What if I¡¯d starved and died? What else do I need to know, that I don¡¯t?"


    "All those lessons," her mother grumbled. "There¡¯s more to life than knowing things, my love. Some things are dangerous to know. It can be better to let them lie. Safer."


    "This merchant won¡¯t be here for me," Liv argued. "He¡¯s here to buy the crop and take it north. He probably won¡¯t even notice me."


    "Oh, I think he¡¯ll notice a half-Elden girl hiding away in a castle of humans," Mama remarked. "Here¡¯s the thing about merchants, dove. They buy and sell things. He may be here to buy the crop, but that doesn¡¯t mean he won¡¯t be interested in making other bargains when he gets home. Information can fetch coin, sometimes even more than a wagon-load of grain."


    "No one would care enough to pay to hear about me," Liv said.


    "Maybe not," her mother said. "But then again, someone might. Do you really want to find out?"


    A knock came from the door, and Mama stood. "I have to see how Gretta¡¯s getting on downstairs," she said. "I won¡¯t tell you what to do, dove. You¡¯re always wee downstairs. Think about it." She reached the door and pulled it open, to reveal Sophie standing in the hallway just beyond.


    "Oh! Your pardon," Sophie said. She was clutching a wooden case in her hands. "Lady Julianne sent me to help Liv get ready."


    "I won¡¯t get in your way, then," Mama said, and disappeared out into the hallway.


    Liv looked Sophie over with a frown. "Get ready? I can dress myself," she said. "Been doing it my whole life." There hadn¡¯t been any new trouble with the girl since Lady Julianne had a talk with her, but Liv had never forgotten her cruel words.


    Sophie stepped into the room and closed the door, then walked over to Liv¡¯s desk, set the box down, and opened it. "We have guests tonight. Baron Henry will be at supper, and the mayor, and everyone else. Lady Julianne wants you to make the right impression." With deft hands, the maid began removingbs, pins, bottles and brushes,ying them out on the desk.


    "My mother thinks I shouldn¡¯t go," Liv admitted, wriggling out of her skirt. That left her dressed in her linen shift and hose. She padded across the floor to the desk, looking over the variety of things now littering the surface. Liv only recognized half of them.


    "I can see why," Sophie admitted. "Those two horrible beasts will be there, preening like roosters."


    Liv winced. "Mirabel and Griselda will be there? Maybe I should just go eat in the kitchens."


    Sophie bit her lip, then put her hands on her hips. "I didn¡¯t say that. Look. It¡¯s no secret I wasn¡¯t very happy when you first started going upstairs."


    "I thought we were past that," Liv said, shuffling her feet.


    "Let me finish, please. When I went into service, my Ma warned me not to get above myself," Sophie exined. "She¡¯d been a governess, you see. Taught me what to expect. And that it always ended badly for those who forgot their ce. We¡¯re the servants, not the family. They may treat us nice, and smile, but one wrong move and you¡¯re out on the street without even a reference. I thought you were doing everything I¡¯d ever been warned not to do. And I thought, where does she get off, anyway, thinking she¡¯s better than us?"


    "I don¡¯t, though," Liv said. "I¡¯ve never feltfortable eating upstairs, or being all alone in this room."


    "No, you are," Sophie said, holding up a hand to stop her. "I couldn¡¯t do what you do. Even if I had some kind of magic. I see you going out to run around the walls, or cutting open frogs with the Chirurgeon, or reading books for hours on end like a real mage, and you just do it all, day after day. It doesn¡¯t seem to ever stop. I couldn¡¯t do that. I don¡¯t know how you keep it up without being exhausted."


    "It doesn¡¯t seem like as much work as being a scullion," Liv told her.


    "Because you enjoy it," Sophie said. "That¡¯s obvious. And the way you saved us from those bats? I would have been a puddle on the floor, good for nothing but shaking and crying. What I¡¯m saying is, you are different from us. Eat upstairs or downstairs, it doesn¡¯t make a difference to me; but don¡¯t let them chase you out, because you¡¯ve done more to earn it than those two silly girls ever will. Well," she finished, "I said my piece. Lady Julianne wants me to do your hair and your face,and once I¡¯m done with you I have to help her. So make up your mind. Do I stay, or do I go?"


    Liv turned away, looking around her room as an excuse, more than anything else. It would be easier to go eat downstairs, with her mother and Gretta and the others. Mama was right, she could start getting to know the new servants. This would be a good chance.


    But if she didn¡¯t eat upstairs, she might never meet the Eldish merchant. And she would never know what he could tell her about her father¡¯s people. Who knew when a chance like this woulde again. Liv turned back to Sophie.


    "I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re going to do with my hair," she admitted. "But go ahead and get started. You don¡¯t want to keep Lady Julianne waiting."


    ?


    The sounds of feasting spilled out of the great hall, along with the flickering light of the oilmps and the scent of smoked meat and wine. Liv hesitated in the hall just outside where the doors had been thrown wide. After Sophie had left, she¡¯d gotten dressed herself, and then spent far too long pacing her room working up the nerve to leave. Twice, she¡¯d nearly gone running for the garderobe to empty her stomach, but managed to calm her nerves with breathing exercises. Even after all that, she¡¯d nearly torn her dress off, washed her face, and headed down to the kitchen. It still wasn¡¯t toote, she told herself. She could turn around right now and avoid this.


    "Miss Brodbeck," Piers greeted her, from his ce at the left of the doors. Liv didn¡¯t recall the name of the guard to the right, but she was more concerned with how formal the address was. "We¡¯re announcing as people enter, this evening," he continued. "Would you prefer Miss, or Apprentice?"


    "Apprentice." Liv had to say it twice before her voice was loud enough to be heard.


    "Alright then," Piers said. "Give me just a moment to get their attention, and then you can head in." The castle guard stepped through the double doors, struck the steel-shod butt of his pole axe against the floor, and then called out: "Apprentice Liv Brodbeck, of the mages¡¯ guild, and Maid of Honor to Lady Julianne!"


    Liv¡¯s fingers tightened around the shaft of her staff until she wondered that either they didn¡¯t snap, or the aspen wood didn¡¯t. In, hold, and then out again. Onest breath, and she walked forward into the hall.


    The racket had dimmed with the announcement, and far more faces than she¡¯d been expecting turned toward her. Baron Henry was there at the high table, which was a rare urrence since his injury, as it meant he had to be carried to and from his seat. He¡¯d gained weight, which she supposed was no surprise when he couldn¡¯t exercise. Lady Julianne was at his side, of course, dressed in a gorgeous dress of ck and crimson that tugged at her memories. Masters Grenfell and Cushing were there, as well, and both Mayor Cooper and Sheriff Porter. Mirabel and Griselda were seated next to their fathers, respectively, though Liv didn¡¯t actually recognize the head of the mason¡¯s guild by sight. Both girls were done up like pretty tapestries, and ring at her with spiteful eyes.


    There were only two other seats at the high table, one left empty, and one upied by the Eldish merchant. His skin was dark, like sanded and polished wood, and his ears even longer than hers, delicately pointed. His hair was nut-brown, both what fell in braids from the top of his head, and the beard. The most striking thing, however, was the color of his eyes: they reminded Liv of nothing so much as warm sunlight through a canopy of fresh green leaves. There was a peculiar quality to them, like the nted golden light of thete afternoon.


    "Livara," she said, as loud as she dared into the echoing hall. "My name is Livara." Her eyes were caught by that warm gaze, and she kept her attention fixed on the Eldish guest as she walked up the center aisle, staff in hand. Murmurs rose around her, but this disy wasn¡¯t for any of the castle guards, nor even for Lady Julianne. Liv knew exactly what they were all seeing, and she¡¯d chosen the look for a reason.


    She¡¯d allowed Sophie to use a kohl to outline her eyes, and the smallest bit of rouge to add color to her cheeks and lips, but that was all. What she¡¯d been far more specific about was her hair. They¡¯d washed it, so that the white would be clear and clean, with not a hint of dirt or dullness about it. Then, Sophie had pulled it back into a braided bun, piled up off the back of her head. Almost always, she¡¯d hidden her ears - beneath a cap or a scarf, or under her hair. Tonight, they were exposed for everyone to see.


    The Eldish merchant rose from his seat, then waited there, standing, until Liv had approached the high table and offered her curtsy to both Baron Henry and Lady Julianne. "My apologies for arrivingte," she said, lowering her eyes.


    Before her husband could say anything, Julianne smiled and replied. "It is quite alright, my dear," she said. "Apprentice Livara," she continued, as smoothly as if she¡¯d never used any other name, "please allow me the honor of introducing you to Airis Ka Reimis Kaen Keria, visiting us from the trading city of Al¡¯Fenthia. Master Airis, Livara is learning from our Court Mage, Kazimir Grenfell, who you met earlier."


    "Thest thing I looked to find on my journey was a wind-tossed seed of my own people," Airis Ka Reimis pronounced, in a voice that was rich and deep as spiced cacao. "I must learn how such a delicate flower has bloomed here in Whitehill. Please, Livara,e and sit next to me."


    Liv looked at the table. Baron Henry was on one side of him, and Mayor Cooper on the other. "There is no chair, m¡¯lord," she pointed out. The only remaining empty seat was on the entire other side of the table, between Masters Grenfell and Cushing.


    "Nonsense," Baron Henry said. "Alban, you¡¯ve talked Master Airis¡¯ ear off long enough. Go sit with Kazimir for a bit."


    The mayor¡¯s face turned bright red, and next to him, Mirabel¡¯s eyes burned with hate. Regardless of how he felt, however, Alban Cooper was trapped: Baron Henry was lord of Whitehill, and his word in the castle was absolute. "Of course," the mayor said, after a moment, taking up his te in one hand and his goblet in the other to make room.


    Feeling every eye in the hall burning into her back, Liv walked around the table, allowed Edward, the youngest footman, to pull out her chair, and sat down next to the foreign merchant. On her left side, Mirabel was practically vibrating with restrained fury.


    "By all the words in the world," Airis Ka Reimis said, "you must tell me, my dear. How did youe to be living here among the fireflies?"


    "I was born here. My mother is the castle cook," Liv exined, keeping her hands to her sides so that Edward could fill a new goblet with wine for her, and set down a new te. She hadn¡¯t even looked at the food: only now did she realize that the Eld at her side had been served with venison as a main course. "I¡¯ll have what he has," she told Edward, then turned to the merchant. "What do you mean by fireflies?"


    "Your mother is Kenth?oria?" Master Airis said. "How fascinating. We have a few half-bloods in Al¡¯Fenthia, but of course we also host more human visitors than any other House in the north, so it is inevitable. But what truly astounds me is that your father has left you here. Fireflies," he said, taking a sip from his own goblet. "That is one of the things we call our younger brothers and sisters. Kenth?oria is the old term - though perhaps not the most polite. Humans, my dear."


    "Kenth?oria," Liv repeated. "I don¡¯t know enough V?dic to trante that, yet. I only just started learning this past winter. What does it mean? And why fireflies?"


    "Because they die so quickly, of course," Airis Ka Reimis answered. "Kenth?oria is what the old gods used to call humanity - ¡¯field ves."


    "That¡¯s horrible!" Liv eximed. "I can see why no one would want to be called that anymore."


    Airis nodded. "Of course not. For all the same reasons that we call ourselves Vakansa, now. It means ¡¯the free people," he offered, before Liv could even ask. "You have truly spent your entire life here, among humans?"


    "I have," Liv said.


    "That exins why you look half starved," the merchant remarked. "You need to eat food that is as mana-rich as possible. We weren¡¯t given the gift after the fact, like our younger siblings. Eld were designed to be able to use magic from the beginning, for the convenience of our masters. Let me see your arm."


    Before Liv could do anything, Airis reached out and gripped her right forearm. He shoved up her sleeve and the linen shift beneath, revealing the faint scars left when Master Cushing had cut off her diseased skin. The Eld sucked in a breath. "You need a teacher," he said, firmly. "You need toe north. There is no reason you should be suffering from mana-sickness, save only that you¡¯ve never had the proper teacher."


    Liv¡¯s heart was beating so loudly she could barely think straight. "Wait, there¡¯s a way to avoid mana-sickness?"


    "Of course there is," Airis eximed, barking out augh that drew eyes from further down the table. "We will speak more of itter, Livara Kaen Syv?. You will be my guide, while I stay in Whitehill. I have need of someone who knows both the castle and the town, and I am unwilling to leave before I satisfy my curiosity about you."


    "So you can sell what you learn?" Liv shot back, surprising herself.


    Airis grinned. "Who told you that?" he asked.


    "My mother," she replied.


    "Then your mother, whether a cook or a queen, is a wise woman," Airis Ka Reimis said. "If you wanted to remain a secret, you should not havee here and said your name out loud. Any one of the Vakansa with ears would recognize it. You were named for your aunt, were you not?"


    Liv swallowed, but remained silent.


    "You don¡¯t even know your father¡¯s name, do you?" Airis said, shaking his head. "And there is no way your family is aware you exist, or they would have alreadye south to get you. The House of Syv? would never leave a daughter here, in the soutnds."

 28. A Game of Questions

    "What do you mean?" Liv asked, her fork frozen in the air above her te, a mouthful of venison forgotten. She had a sudden vision of Eldish ridersing south through the high passes, storming Castle Whitehill, throwing her over the back of a horse, and riding away.


    Before Airis Ka Reimis could respond, however, the entire feast was disrupted by the scrape of Baron Henry¡¯s chair. Liv had been so absorbed in her conversation with the first true Eld she¡¯d ever met that she hadn¡¯t noticed the baron calling for his guards. James, who¡¯d been training her endurance since the snows melted, and another guard, who she didn¡¯t know well, carefully lifted Henry between them.


    At every table, the guests rose from their seats, and Liv was quick to follow them.


    "Be seated," Henry said, waving a hand at the assemge. "I will retire for the evening, but I leave you in good hands with my wife, and with Mayor Cooper. Master Reimis, I have no doubt that negotiations will proceed toward a fruitful agreement for us all."


    The Eld bowed, his brown braids falling about his shoulders with the elegant movement. "I have no doubt at all, Baron Henry. You have my deepest gratitude for the hospitality you have shown me, and I wish you a pleasant evening." It was not until Henry Summerset had been carried from the hall that everyone was once again seated, and conversation resumed.


    Lady Julianne, however, shifted over one seat to the side, taking up her husband¡¯s former ce at the northern merchant¡¯s elbow. "Are you aware, Master Reimis," she said, "that we also mine Aluthet¡¯Staia from the rift at Bald Peak?"


    "I am well aware, indeed," Airis said, turning away from Liv to answer the baron¡¯s wife. "Some of your stone asionally makes it up to our markets at Al¡¯Fenthia, but as I recall, most of it is always bought up by the mages¡¯ guild."


    "That is true," Julianne admitted. "Though I wonder if there might be room for negotiation, on that matter. I-"


    Liv¡¯s attention was broken by a sudden ssh of something wet soaking through her skirt into herp, and before she could think about what she was doing, she¡¯d pushed her chair back and stood up. The entire lower half of her dress was stained dark, and soaked.


    "Oh, I¡¯m sorry," Mirabel said. "I¡¯m so clumsy, sometimes." The girl¡¯s goblety on its side, right next to Liv¡¯s te. A te of venison and steamed vegetables that was now swimming in red wine.


    "It¡¯s fine," Liv said. Of course, it wasn¡¯t. She only owned three nice dresses, and if she didn¡¯t hurry downstairs this one would be ruined. And she was absolutely certain that the mayor¡¯s daughter had spilled on purpose. Mirabel was as nasty a piece of work now as she¡¯d ever been, even though it¡¯d been months since they¡¯d been put in the same ce for lessons. "If you¡¯ll please excuse me, mdy, I need to go change."


    "How clumsy," Airis Reimismented, catching Liv by the arm. "Before you go, dear girl, I will be riding out to inspect the harvest as soon as the morning meal is done, tomorrow morning. I meant what I said: I insist that you serve as my guide for the inspection."


    "Apprentice Brodbeck has lessons with Master Cushing, our Chirurgeon," Lady Julianne said. "And then in the afternoon with our Court Mage, Master Grenfell. She has a great deal to learn to prepare her for Coral Bay; I am reluctant to interrupt that."


    The Eldish man regarded thedy of the castle carefully. "Than I shall make it worth her time," he said, and turned to Liv. "I will offer you an alternative to your regrly scheduled lessons, my dear. For the duration of the time you apany me as my guide, you may y a game of questions with me. For every one of my questions you answer, I will answer one of yours. A rare opportunity, for our people only reluctantly cross the mountains ande south."


    "I would consider that eptablepensation for the apprentice," Lady Julianne said. "Though, of course it is Liv¡¯s choice."


    "I¡¯ll do it," Liv said, without a moment¡¯s hesitation. She already had so many questions itching at her tongue that she was going to have to write them all down before she forgot. "Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I need to get this skirt off before it stains."


    "Oh, don¡¯t worry about that," Julianne said. "I¡¯m certain that Mayor Cooper will buy you a new one, given that his daughter has ruined it. That¡¯s only the polite thing to do. I¡¯ll make sure I send your measurements over in the morning."


    The mayor coughed, and red at his daughter. "Of course," he said. "You¡¯ll receive a recement in a few days."


    "Good. Now go get cleaned up, Liv, and good evening," Lady Julianne said. "Master Reimis and I have a good deal to discuss."


    At that, Liv was finally able to escape the great hall. On her way out the door, she caught Tom, the second footman, as he was leaving with a tter of dirty dishes. "Could you ask one of the new girls toe up to my room?" she said, keeping her voice low so that those in the hall wouldn¡¯t overhear. "Ask her to bring me a bucket, soap, and a washboard so I can try to get this stain out." Tom nodded, and she hurried off to her room.


    Once she was safely away from the rest of the castle, with the door closed behind her, Liv leaned her staff against the wall and stripped out of the dress as quickly as she could. It was toote to save the shift: the wine had soaked through into that as well, leaving a great red stain on the white linen. She couldn¡¯t help but let out a cry of frustration, and only just had time to change into a fresh shift before there was a knock at her door. Liv padded over, opened it a crack, and then the rest of the way when she recognized Joan, one of the two new maids.


    "I¡¯vee for your dress, mdy," Joan said, slipping past Liv into the room. "Oh! And your shift is stained, as well." She went over to where Liv had left her clothes on the floor and gathered them up.


    "I thought Tom told you to bring a bucket?" Liv asked her. "I can wash them myself."


    "Oh, no, mdy," Joan said. "That wouldn¡¯t be proper, now you¡¯re up here on the second floor. I¡¯ll see to it." Without another word, she escaped into the hall, leaving Liv alone.


    "Mdy?" Liv threw herself down on her bed with a groan. "I¡¯m not ady, though," sheined. She supposed that she could get changed and go back to the feast, but that would put her in the same room as Griselda and Mirabel, the two witches. Instead, she resolved to begin writing questions in her book so that she would be prepared in the morning. First, however, she needed to take her hair down and clean the makeup off her face.


    ?


    "Do you ride?" Master Reimis asked her the next day, over thest crumbs of the morning meal.


    Liv shook her head. "I¡¯ve never learned, m¡¯lord," she admitted. She felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning; it seemed that for every lesson Lady Julianne gave her, there was a dozen things not yet ounted for. She supposed that little Matthew would be learning all his courtesies from the time he was a toddler.


    "A carriage, then," the Eldish merchant decided, and turned to Lady Julianne. "I presume that can be provided?"


    "Of course." Julianne waved over Archibald. "Put a carriage and driver at Master Reimis¡¯ service for the day," she instructed the first footman. He gave a bow, then retreated to arrange things. By the time Liv had finished her meal, she and Airis Reimis found the baron¡¯s carriage ready and waiting.


    "What do you need to see first?" Liv asked him. The day was shaping up to be warm, with a vast blue sky untroubled by clouds. Somewhere overhead, a hawk cried out.


    The merchant stepped up into the carriage, took a seat, and opened a book of his own. "If my notes are urate," he said, running a finger down his page, "your farmers grow a great many things. Not all of it ships well, of course, and I want produce that has been fertilized with manure from those bats in the rift. Show me the orchards, first, I think. Apples, peaches, and lemons, yes? Are the vineyards nearby? We have an appointment back in town for the midday meal."


    Liv nodded, and ducked over to address the driver. "The vineyards first," she said. Those were the furthest out of town. "Then the orchards on the way back." Instructions given, she mbered into the carriage, settled her staff on the seat next to her, and opened her own book. She¡¯d brought a quill and a bottle of ink, which she carefully uncorked for just long enough to dip the quill.


    Airis Reimis fixed her with those shining green eyes, and grinned. "Good," he said. "You¡¯vee prepared. I expect you to impress me, Livara. Are you ready for my first question?"


    "I am." She nodded.


    "I¡¯ll begin with something easy," Reimis told her. "Your word of power is Cel, is it not?"


    "It is," Liv said. That was no secret; everyone in town knew how she¡¯d saved Emma using ice magic, so the Eldish merchant could have learned as much with a quick conversation on the street. She regarded her own list of questions, but there was one that she absolutely had to ask first, for safety. "You said that House Syv?-" Liv stumbled over the words, because she¡¯d almost slipped and said ¡¯my family.¡¯ "You said they would never let me stay here. Exin what you meant, please."


    Airis Reimis reached up one hand to stroke his beard. It was the same gesture she¡¯d seen from Master Grenfell when he was lecturing, and for a moment she wondered what was so fascinating to a man about his own whiskers. "I simply meant this," he finally exined. "You may not realize this, but a child among our people is a very rare and precious treasure. If your father knew that you existed - especially after what happened to your aunt - I cannot conceive of anything that would stop him froming here and offering you a ce in his home." Before she could think better of it, Liv opened her mouth, but Reimis held up a finger. "A question for a question," he reminded her. "My turn now, dear girl. How old are you?"


    "Near thirteen," Liv said, while the tip of her quill scratched against the nk page in her book. "I was born in the first month of winter. What do you mean, ¡¯especially after what happened to my aunt?"


    "You don¡¯t want to know who your father is, first?" Master Reimis prodded. "Or how I know?"


    Liv bit her lip. "Fine. How do you know?"


    "First of all, because you are the living image of your aunt, and you carry her name," Reimis answered. "Livara Tar Auris Kaen Syv?, called Livara of the Five des before her death. Can you make a sword of ice, yet?"


    "A sword? No," Liv admitted. "Just shards, the size of daggers." She wrote furiously, trying to take down every word the man said.


    "Your aunt used one in her hands," the Eldish merchant exined, "and another four that circled around her in the air, moving in ordance with her thoughts. There are many who thought she was the most talented swordswoman of her generation. You look just like her," he said, and there was a roughness in his voice. Airis Reimis coughed to clear his throat. "Your question," he said.


    For a moment, she almost asked her father¡¯s name. But Mama had promised to tell her. "What happened to my aunt?"


    "She died in the depths of the Tomb of Celris," Master Reimis answered. "It is the most dangerous rift in the north, where the Vaedic Lord of Winter perished. Your great-grandfather. It is his power that sings in your veins. That is the other reason I knew who you must be - no one but a child with the blood of the old gods could stumble upon a word of power without training."


    Liv only half heard him; at the name Celris, the word inside her woke. There was no gradual stirring, as she¡¯d felt before: this time, it went directly from sleep, to a roaring, straining desire to be free. Hoarfrost crackled across the windows of the carriage, and Liv clenched her fists in an effort to pull the cold back. The quill in her hand snapped.


    "There it is," Reimis said, with a smile on his lips. "Just like your aunt. Are you betrothed, Livara? Are you promised to one of these southern fireflies?"


    "No," Liv gasped. She closed her eyes, and concentrated on the breathing exercises. In, hold, out. Again. Eventually, the power inside her returned to slumber. Only then did she ask her next question. "You said the Eld had a way to avoid mana-sickness," she said. "How?"


    "Control," Master Reimis answered. "You need to learn control. It is not something I can teach you while we are in this carriage. You need toe north, and learn from your own people. Until you do that, every time you lose control of your magic, you are a danger to yourself, and to anyone around you."


    "The mages¡¯ guild can teach me control," Liv protested. "I¡¯m going to college when I¡¯m old enough."


    "The humans have forgotten nearly everything they ever knew about magic," the merchant scoffed. "How many generations, in a thousand years? My grandfather saw the Lady of Thorns die with his own eyes. He taught my father the magic he learned from her, and they taught me. Forty generations? Fifty? You don¡¯t understand how much knowledge the fireflies have lost, in their short lives. Come north to Al¡¯Fenthia, and let me teach you. I have a son, just a bit older than you. You can learn with him."


    Liv frowned. "Are you going to sell me?" she asked. "What I mean is, are you going to sell the knowledge of who I am? Where I am?"


    "Of course," Airis said, with a broad smile. Liv felt sick; it was just as her mother had warned her. Perhaps she should have eaten in the kitchens, after all, and hidden her ears. "My question. Are youmitted to the mages¡¯ guild? Is that the life you are set on, or would you consider leaving to rejoin your own people?"


    "Master Jurian saved me," Liv answered. "And Master Grenfell has taught me so much. They¡¯ve set it up so that I can go without even paying. It would be ungrateful of me to put all that aside."


    "But is that what you want?" the older Eld pressed her, leaning forward in his seat. "Do you want to learn from the humans, or from your own people."


    "Why not both?" Liv replied. "Don¡¯t answer that, that isn¡¯t my question. You keep saying the Eld are my people. But I¡¯m half-human. They¡¯re my people, too, aren¡¯t they?"


    "I understand how you could think that, now," Master Reimis said. "You¡¯re young. Wait, Livara. Just wait. You¡¯ll see, when your mother ages and dies. Your Master Grenfell, the baron¡¯s lovely young wife, even that infant of hers. They will all wither and pass, leaving only dust and memories. You will remain. Young, and alone. If you are not ready toe north yet, that is fine. In time, you will be. Ah, here we are. The vineyards first, then. You can consider your next question while I have a look at the grapes."


    The carriage rolled to a halt, and the merchant opened the door and sprung out before Liv could even scoop up her staff. Leaving her book open on the seat of the carriage, so that the ink could dry, Liv closed the door behind her and scrambled to keep up.


    Master Reimis clearly knew a great deal more than Liv did regarding grapes, vines, the soil, what wood to use for barrels, and all manner of other steps in the vinting process, and she quickly found herself lost. What made it even more difficult to focus was that she couldn¡¯t stop the thoughts left swirling around in her head. Descended from a god? What did that even mean?


    Mama had told Liv that she¡¯d been named for her aunt, but that was very different from the way the Eldish merchant had spoken. It sounded like her aunt had been famous. She¡¯d gone into the very depths of a rift - the tomb of one of the dead gods, nheless! Why? Everything was hints and fragments of a greater story. Liv¡¯s fingers itched to turn to the back of her book, and see whether Master Jurian had left her the word for sword. She could understand how she might shoot them forward - just as she did with Frozen Shards. But control them? What magic could do that?


    She was so focused on these questions, that Liv hardly paid any attention at all to the inspection of the vineyards, or even the orchards after that. It wasn¡¯t until the carriage rumbled to a halt in front of an expensive manor on The Hill that she roused herself.


    "Where are we?" she asked.


    "I told you that I had an appointment for the midday meal," Airis Ka Reimis reminded her. "Come along now, Livara. The mayor is expecting us."

 29. The Mountain Song

    "I think maybe I should wait in the carriage," Liv said. She nced out the window; Mayor Cooper¡¯s manor was three stories tall, built almost entirely of granite, and it had so many windows that she couldn¡¯t even imagine how much he¡¯d spent on ss. "Or I could go back to the castle for midday meal, and meet you here with the carriage."


    "Why, because of that spoiled girl?" Master Reimis snorted. "You¡¯re already beyond her, Livara, even if she hasn¡¯t realized it yet. Even if you haven¡¯t. If you run and hide from someone like that, I will be very disappointed in you."


    "You say I¡¯m beyond her," Liv protested. "But as far as this town is concerned, that isn¡¯t so. She¡¯s the mayor¡¯s daughter, and I¡¯m just a bastard who grew up in the kitchen."


    "How splendid it must be to be blessed with such a wealth of children that you can afford to throw them aside," the Eld muttered. "You will not solve your problems by avoiding them. Best you learn that young, before it gets you killed. You think your aunt would have run away from some ill-mannered brat who thinks too much of herself?"


    "I never met my aunt," Liv reminded him.


    "More¡¯s the pity," Airis Reimis said. "They called her Livara of the Five des. Take a guess."


    "Probably not," Liv admitted, staring down at her feet. What was the worst Mirabel could do to her? Spill another goblet of wine on her skirt? Say something mean? She might be older, and her father might have a lot of money, but she wasn¡¯t as dangerous as a stonebating through the door. She didn¡¯t have magic. "Fine," Liv said, taking up her staff and mbering out of the carriage. "But she¡¯s going to be horrible, I can tell you that already."


    Master Reimis smiled. "You are not responsible for her behavior," he said, offering Liv his arm. "Her father is. You are apanying me, and to insult you is to insult a guest he very much wants to do business with. Let us go and hear his proposal, and in the meantime enjoy his food."


    Mayor Cooper¡¯s staff had apparently been waiting for his guests, because the door was opened immediately by a portly servant who had lost most of his hair. After a brief discussion, an offer to take the aspen-wood staff which was refused, and a frown in Liv¡¯s direction, he walked them past a grand staircase. On the left, they found an open door from which snippets of conversation drifted.


    "Master Airis Reimis, of the House Keria," the footman announced, ushering them through the doorway and into a luxurious sitting room. "Apanied by Apprentice Liv Brodbeck of the mages¡¯ guild."


    Mayor Cooper rose from the cushioned bench where he¡¯d been sitting, a ss of wine in his hand. Liv recognized not only Mirabel, but Griselda Mason as well. Both girls were sitting together on a bench before a beautiful harpsichord, the wood of the instrument so finely stained and polished that it seemed to glow with an inner light. There were a half dozen other men as well, none of whom Liv knew by sight, though she imagined that one must have been Griselda¡¯s father.


    "Ah, Master Reimis," the mayor said, setting his goblet aside on an end table. With three quick strides, he reached them and extended his hand. "It is a pleasure to wee you to my house. You know Master Mason, of course, and we have also representatives from the Drovers¡¯ Guild, and the Banker¡¯s Guild. We shall be sitting down for a midday meal in just a few moments, but my daughter, and Master Mason¡¯s daughter Griselda, were just about to entertain us with a song."


    "How wonderful," Reimis said. "I¡¯ve just been out inspecting the orchards and the vineyards, with Miss Brodbeck as my guide. But please, don¡¯t let us interrupt. I don¡¯t often have an opportunity to hear a harpsichord yed - not many examples have made their way north, as of yet."


    "Perhaps Liv would like to apany us, Father?" Mirabel said. "Master Grenfell always said she had a beautiful singing voice, but we haven¡¯t got to hear her often since we no longer have lessons together."


    "Yes, that would be lovely," the mayor said, turning to address Liv directly for the first time. "If it would not put you out, of course."


    Liv¡¯s entire body froze, and she was aware of every eye in the room turned toward her. She couldn¡¯t move, she couldn¡¯t breath, she couldn¡¯t even blink. Sing? In front of all these strangers? She¡¯d thought there was nothing Mirabel could do to her that she wasn¡¯t prepared for, but this was terrifying. Breathe, she told herself. In, hold, out. Just like Master Grenfell taught you. Finally, she was able to speak. "I¡¯m not certain there will be a song we both know," she said.


    "Nonsense, I know all sorts of things," Mirabel said, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You name something, and I¡¯ll make do." At her side, Griselda giggled.


    Liv tried to think of a song that wouldn¡¯t be an embaressment. She couldn¡¯t propose any of the kitchen songs that her mother and Gretta sang while they worked. Nor could she suggest a luby, even though that¡¯s mostly what she¡¯d been singing ofte, when little Matthew needed a bit of soothing to go to sleep.


    "Do you know The Mountain Song?" Liv asked, finally. She¡¯d never heard who¡¯d originally written the tune, but it had been sung around Whitehill for generations.


    "Of course," Mirabel said. "Come over here, then, while I y the beginning, and just pick up when you¡¯re ready."


    Liv released Master Reimis¡¯ arm, fixed her eyes on the harpsichord, and set off across the sitting room, setting the butt of her staff carefully on the carpet with every other step. If she didn¡¯t turn her head to either side, she didn¡¯t need to look at all of the powerful merchants that filled the chamber. From Mayor Cooper¡¯s first words, it had been clear to her what sort of gathering she was stepping into. These were wealthy, powerful men, and Mirabel was setting Liv up to embarrass herself in front of them. A single note sung off key, and the chuckles would make their way around. The snidements. And Mirabel would have won.


    When she reached the harpsichord, Liv turned her back, so that she didn¡¯t have to face Mirabel or Griselda. Instead, she fixed her eyes on Airis Ka Reimis, who was perhaps the only person friendly to her in the entire room. If she could even count him as that, given he¡¯d likely sell everything he knew about her to the highest bidder.


    Mirabel¡¯s fingers struck the keys of the harpsichord; it wasn¡¯t the way Liv was used to beginning, and it threw her for a second. Normally, she simply joined in with Mama and Gretta, and let her voice mix with theirs. She stood up straight, like Master Grenfell always chided her to do, took a deep breath, and sang from her belly:


    "When I woke this morn, I felt a tear, couldn¡¯t recall why I¡¯m here;


    I¡¯vee so far, away from home, have I lost the way back?


    So I packed my things, set out the door, and turned my face to the north.


    The mountains are calling me, now I¡¯m going home¡­"


    She wavered slightly on the first note, but the words came easily after that. Liv¡¯s voice filled the room, though she hadn¡¯t meant to sing so loudly, and by the time she reached the second verse, she closed her eyes so that she could pretend that she was all alone, singing to no one but herself. Or to the baby, perhaps; Lady Julianne¡¯s son wouldn¡¯t ever judge her, he¡¯d just giggle with delight.


    She sang like that until the song was over, and held thest note, of thest repetition of the word ¡¯home,¡¯ past the time that the sound of the harpsichord had died away. There was a moment of silence, and then apuse.


    "That was excellent!" Master Reimis called out, and around the room the men joined in the praise. Liv opened her eyes, and wondered for a moment if she was going to fall over. She leaned on her staff, letting it take her weight, like a deeply rooted tree. The old men crowded around the harpsichord, all talking at once, and it blurred into an overwhelming and confusing noise. She couldn¡¯t keep of track of who was talking to her, to Griselda, or to Mirabel.


    It was the overweight footman, in the end, who saved her. "Luncheon is served," he announced from the door, in a deep voice that cut through the chatter.


    "Ah, excellent," Mayor Cooper said. "Right this way, gentlemen. Ladies." He took his daughter by the arm to escort her, and Liv was finally able to put a face to Griselda¡¯s father when the man collected her. Master Mason had a sharp face, hard eyes, and hair that had gone entirely to gray. Liv wasn¡¯t certain whether she should simply follow the crowd until Master Reimis offered her his arm again, and she epted it gratefully.


    "That was terrifying," she whispered to him, once the room had nearly emptied out. The Eldish merchant lingered at the back of the crowd, and Liv suspected it was to give her a moment to catch her breath.


    "It may have been," Master Reimis said, "but you didn¡¯t run, did you?" They followed the crowd into a chamber that was a good deal smaller than the great hall at Castle Whitehill. For a moment, Liv wasn¡¯t certain what to do with her staff, but one of the footmen showed her where to lean it against the wall, behind her chair.


    The entire dining room was paneled in wood, and justrge enough to amodate a high table by itself, without any benches for a crowd of guards. Still, Liv counted four footmen, rather than three, and they began serving as soon as everyone was seated.


    "We have oysters, shrimp, and tuna from Coral Bay," Mayor Cooper said, indicating the dishes. "Courtesy of our colleagues from the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers, and the Trading Guild."


    "And courtesy of the cold storage enchantments supplied by House Syv?," Airis Reimis pointed out. My family, Liv reminded herself. It was still a bizarre thought.


    "Indeed, indeed," the mayor agreed. "That has been quite a profitable arrangement for all parties concerned, I dare say, and I hope that it marks only the beginning of a rich cooperation between the Eldish houses and the guilds of Lucania."


    "Elden," Reimis broke in. "We say Elden, not Eldish. That is how southerners speak, but it is not what we do in the north."


    "Of course, my apologies," Mayor Cooper said, his smile faltering. "Thank you for educating me." Liv tried to remember how many times she¡¯d used the wrong word in front of Master Reimis. He¡¯d never corrected her, but she didn¡¯t want to offend him - and how ignorant he must think Liv, of her own people!


    "-which brings us to a new opportunity for cooperation," one of the men was saying. Liv had missed the beginning, and she was further distracted by one of the footmen piling a type of fish she¡¯d never had before onto her te, seared on the outside and left pink and raw in the middle. "For some years, we of the Most Worshipful Society of Pipes and Waters have been engaged in creating irrigation systems for farnds across the kingdom, piping water into the fields from nearby streams and rivers. Mayor Cooper tells us that your house, Master Reimis, is capable of creating enchantments that spur crops to incredible growth. If you were to grant us an exclusive license, as House Syv? did the Drovers¡¯ Guild, we believe that enchanted irrigation systems could increase crop yields across Lucania by as much as half again."


    "That is an interesting proposal," Airis Remis said. Liv lifted a fork and tried a bite of the seared fish; she was pleasantly surprised to find it had been coated in ground pepper of various sorts before being seared. Across the table, Mirabel and Griselda were whispering together, but she couldn¡¯t make out what they were plotting.


    "Of course, the agreement with House Syv? provides a well-tested temte for our use," the mayor said, and Liv couldn¡¯t help but frown. That was the agreement they¡¯d tried to use to set the sheriff on her.


    "Maybe Master Reimis should change whatever section lets you try to arrest people for having the wrong kind of magic," Liv broke in, "before he agrees to anything." All around the table, the guests fell silent, and she felt her face heat up. Perhaps that would have been better to keep quiet, rather than to say out loud.


    "A regrettable misunderstanding," Griselda¡¯s father said. "Thankfully settled now."


    "I would have thought that it was in the guilds¡¯ interests to maintain good rtions with House Syv?, given that they can withdraw from the agreement at any time with half a year¡¯s notice," Reimis said. "Any agreement that I considered would, of course, need to be negotiated with parties whom I could trust to operate in good faith. I would take their history into ount when making my decision."


    Now that everyone had looked away from her, Liv poked her fork at one of the open shells on her te. She didn¡¯t have the slightest idea how to eat whatever was inside without making a fool of herself, and she knew the moment she tried Mirabel would point andugh. Instead, she finished off her seared fish.


    "It is a great deal of difference," Reimis was saying. "Cold storage allowed the guilds to move food from one part of the kingdom to another. In the north, we have far less arablend than you do here. We need magic to increase our crop yields simply to survive. Providing a license for enchantments to be used all across the kingdom would flood the markets with excess food. That would have wide-ranging economic consequences."


    Liv looked down at her te; everything she was willing to attempt eating was gone, and the conversation had moved deep into matters that she had absolutely no frame of reference for.


    "I fear that we¡¯re boring the youngdies," Mayor Cooper said, to scatteredughter around the table. He must have noticed Liv¡¯s wandering attention. "Mirabel, why don¡¯t you take Griselda and Miss Brodbeck and show them the garden."


    "Of course, Father," Mirabel said, rising from her chair. "Come along, girls. I¡¯ve just been given a cutting from Varuna I want to show you, and I think it¡¯s growing well."


    Liv shot a nce over to Master Reimis, but she saw no help there. She was trapped. Without saying a word, she rose from her seat, took her staff from where it had been leaning against the wall, and allowed herself to be led out of the dining room.


    The trap wasn¡¯t sprung until they were in the garden, well away from any chance of help or rescue. It was a pretty enough ce, if much smaller than what Liv was used to at the castle. Rather than a sprawling warren of paths winding through bushes, trees and flowers, the Coopers had set aside a walled in plot ofnd norger than the kitchen at Castle Whitehill. The spring flowers had long since passed, but the air was scented with the smell of fresh herbs.


    Mirabel was far less pleasant.


    "I can¡¯t believe I have to put up with trash like you in my house," she said, turning on Liv with a snarl as soon as all three girls were in the garden. "It¡¯s bad enough they¡¯ve let a bastard out of the kitchen, but at our table?"


    Though she¡¯d known something like this wasing, Liv took a step back in surprise before she got ahold of herself. The raw viciousness of the older girl¡¯s tone stunned her. "I don¡¯t understand what I¡¯ve ever done to you," she said. "You¡¯ve just been nasty and mean since the moment we met, and you never stop. Why won¡¯t you just leave me alone?"


    "Don¡¯t you dare talk back to me," Mirabel snapped. "Learn your ce, you halfblood bitch." In an instant, the girl¡¯s hand flew, and pped Liv across the face, turning her head to the side.


    She waspletely unprepared for it, but she caught herself on her staff, and ran her tongue over her teeth. Liv¡¯s lip was already swelling, and she tasted a bit of blood in her mouth. Master Reimis¡¯ words from the carriage echoed in her mind: "You think your aunt would have run away from some ill-mannered brat who thinks too much of herself?"


    "I am so sick of you," Liv growled, surprised by her own anger. "Celet Aiveh Belia." She raised her staff, and the silver sigils flooded with cold light. The ground around Mirabel¡¯s feet burst apart, curved walls of ice rising up from the earth to surround her. It was the same spell that Liv had used on the fox that came to the walls of Whitehill during the eruption; then, it had imprisoned a mana-beast until the town guards could kill it with their crossbows.


    Mirabel Cooper was not nearly so formidable as a mana beast.


    Before she could do anything but scream, the mayor¡¯s daughter was swallowed up by a bowl of ice, the sides rising around her in a sharp curve until they reached well over the girl¡¯s head, blocking her entirely from view.


    To the side, Griselda shrieked and scrambled back in fright, until her back was pressed up against the wall of the garden. "Don¡¯t hurt me," she whimpered.


    "It¡¯s funny," Liv said, taking a step toward her, staff raised. "Would you have ever stopped, no matter how much I begged you to? But now that you¡¯re the one afraid, I should stop? How does that make any sense?"


    "What in the name of the Trinity is going on here?" Mayor Cooper¡¯s voice boomed across the garden. Liv turned, to see the entirety of the luncheon party storming in through the gate.

 30. An Investment

    Liv could see how it was all going to go.


    Mayor Cooper would be just how he was all those months ago, when he¡¯d tried to get her in trouble for using her magic the first time. He¡¯d call for the sheriff again, only now, instead of saving a little girl, Liv had imprisoned his daughter in ice. He would say she was dangerous, and that this proved it. Instead of spending the night in her room at Castle Whitehill, if Alban and Mirabel Cooper had their way, she¡¯d be in a cell at the dungeon in the Lower Banks.


    There was a part of her that wanted to curl in on herself and cry; to ask for her mother, and to wait for Master Jurian toe and save her again. Only Liv wasn¡¯t certain that the mages¡¯ guild would do that a second time.


    But there was another part of her that was just angry.


    "You want to know what¡¯s going on?" Liv cried, pointing at the rounded walls of ice, which were already beginning to sweat water under the sunlight. "She took me out here, where no one could see, and pped me in the face." She put two fingers to her lips, and then held them up where everyone could see the blood. "She¡¯s horrible. She says horrible things, she spills wine on me, or ink. I¡¯ve never done anything to her!"


    "I would say that using magic to assault someone quite qualifies as ¡¯anything," Mayor Cooper said, his face red. "The crime is the same, whether you use a club or a spell."


    Griselda, in the meantime, used the opportunity to scramble away from Liv and then run over to her father. She threw her arms around him. From inside the great bowl of ice, Mirabel¡¯s voice could be dimly heard, calling out for help.


    "I didn¡¯t hurt anyone!" Liv protested. "She hit me."


    "We shall see what Sheriff Porter has to say about that," the mayor said. "Now release my daughter."


    "She will do no such thing," Master Reimis broke in. At his words, Mayor Cooper turned away from Liv and stared at the Elden merchant with an open mouth. "Keep her right where she is, Liv, until this is settled."


    After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Liv nodded. She wasn¡¯t certain whether she could take down the ice if she wanted to; she¡¯d always just left her chutes, walls and bowls to melt on their own.


    "I demand my daughter be freed this instant," the mayor snarled.


    "I hardly think you are in any position to make demands," Airis Ka Reimis said. Liv couldn¡¯t believe how calm and even his voice was; she was still shaking in abination of fear and rage. "I came here as a guest, escorting this youngdy, and she has been assaulted on your property, by your daughter. The question you should be asking, Mayor Cooper, is what you can do to apologize for this insult, before it brings an immediate end to our negotiations."


    Griselda¡¯s father broke in at that. "You cannot seriously be considering breaking off this meeting because a kitchen girl doesn¡¯t know her ce!"


    "We will not only walk away this instant," Reimis threatened, "but I shall go directly to your sheriff, if there is not an immediate apology made, along with an assurance, from both of you gentlemen, that neither of your daughters will pursue this matter any further."


    Mayor Cooper drew himself up. "I apologize that our business was interrupted by this unpleasantness," he said. "It was quite unseemely."


    "Not to me," the Elden merchant said. "To her." He thrust his finger in Liv¡¯s direction, and she once again felt the burden of being the center of the entirepany¡¯s attention.


    Cooper¡¯s eyes narrowed, and Liv imagined that he was weighing the money he could make from whatever agreement he wanted against the blow to his pride. "Very well," he said. "I apologize for my daughter¡¯s actions, Miss Brodbeck. You may be certain, Master Reimis, that I shall discipline her appropriately. Let us go inside and return to our negotiations."


    "I think not," Reimis said. "I have quite thoroughly seen the character of you upstanding guildsmen, and I have not the slightest desire to do business with you - at any point, whether now, or in the future."


    "You¡¯d back the aristocracy, instead?" Griselda¡¯s fatherined.


    "Whatever power-struggle you are nning in this kingdom, I would be a fool to take a side in it," Airis Ka Reimis answered. "But the Summersets have held the south end of the high passes for centuries, and I have no reason to make an enemy of them when doing so would cut Al¡¯Fenthia off tond travel. I¡¯ve yet to hear any offer that is worth the trouble you bring, nor do I judge, after today, that I could trust a single one of you snakes to stay true to your words. If coin is all you care about, I will ce my faith in Baron Henry and Lady Julianne. Come along, Liv. We are leaving. Thank you, Mayor Cooper, for the meal."


    Liv hurried across the garden. She wanted nothing more than to be back in the carriage - no, she wanted to be at Castle Whitehill, so she could run straight to the kitchens and fall into her mother¡¯s arms.


    "Wait!" Alban Cooper shouted. "You can¡¯t leave my daughter imprisoned like this."


    "It will melt in the sun," Master Reimis said, taking Liv by the arm. "But if you insist, mayor, I shall do you this favor. Vradim Cerent Bregium Ai¡¯Celis," the Eld intoned, sweeping his other arm out as if to epass the garden and everything in it.


    For a moment, Liv thought that nothing had happened. Then, she noticed a thyme nt stretching upward. As if that was the first drop preceding a rainstorm, every nt within reach of the ice began to move. Months or years seemed to pass in the space of only a few breaths: roots and branches found the ice, gripped it like gnarled hands, and then squeezed. The ice cracked, then shattered, falling in chunks down to the ground, and revealing a wide-eyed Mirabel Cooper, surrounded by overgrown foliage. She opened her mouth to speak, but Master Reimis was there first.


    "Consider this thest favor I ever do you, or your vile daughter," he said. "And all of you had better hope that I never hear so much as a whisper that you¡¯ve abused this girl, ever again. If I do, I will close the gates of Al¡¯Fenthia to your guilds, and you can find trading partners somewhere else. And before you think I am being too harsh, consider that will be the least of your concerns. If it were a member of the House of Syv? here, rather than me, you would be lucky to escape with your lives." Master Reimis¡¯ lip curled in disgust. "To think you could simply buy my magic, for coin. Do not bother me again with your schemes or your nonsense."


    And with that, he escorted Liv out of the garden, through the house, and to the waiting carriage beyond. Despite Liv¡¯s fears, no one tried to stop them.


    ?


    The ride through The Hill was not long, and they were almost at the gates of Castle Whitehill by the time Liv found the courage to speak her thoughts aloud. "Did you bring me there knowing that would happen?"


    Airis Ka Reimis smiled. "And why would I do that, child?"


    "I don¡¯t know," Liv admitted. "It ruined whatever deal you were there to negotiate. Unless that was what you wanted?" Her fingers gripped her spellbook tightly, as it rested in herp.


    "The merchant guilds of Lucania are rising, while the noble houses dwindle," Master Reimis said. "It is a pattern yed out over human generations, so perhaps I am in a better position to see it and recognize what is happening. Baron Henry and his kind collect taxes and rents from the people who work thend; but the guilds buy and trade not only in Lucania, but far afield to Varuna, to Lendh ka Dakruim, and even with my own people. The more wealth they umte, the more they strain against the hereditary privilege of the nobility. The conflict may note for decades, but I refuse to be drawn into it. Nor should you allow yourself to be," he advised her, as the carriage rolled to a stop in the castle courtyard. Reimis went for the door, but Liv reached out to stop him with her own hand.


    "Wait," she said. "If I was just there to give you a reason to turn them down - if I was an excuse - you used me."


    "Did I?" the Elden merchant asked. "Did I use you by helping you settle your feud with those girls once and for all? I doubt they¡¯ll wish toe anywhere near you, now, between fear of your magic and fear of me."


    "Why, then?" Liv asked. "Why help me?"


    "I am a merchant," Airis Ka Reimis told her. "I have an eye for a good investment, Livara Kaen Syv?. I am investing in you. Years from now, when we meet again, remember that I have done you this kindness."


    "I want something else then," Liv demanded. "For helping you. Don¡¯t tell anyone about me, when you go back north."


    "Not ready for your family toe and im you?" Reimis asked her. "You are asking me to give up the gratitude of your house. That is worth more than a few coins."


    "You wanted me toe to your city," Liv said. "I will, then. Once I¡¯ve finished at Coral Bay, I will go north to Al¡¯Fenthia and find you. You can even introduce me to your son," she offered.


    "You have a bargain," Master Reimis said, after a moment¡¯s thought. "Two decades, more or less, is not so long for our people. By then, perhaps you will understand what we mean by calling the southerners ¡¯fireflies."


    Liv held out her hand, and the merchant took it in his own, sealing the agreement. Then, they left the carriage and went into the castle. She was feeling quite good about herself until Mama saw her lip, the moment Liv stepped into the kitchen. That led to an examination in Master Cushing¡¯s chambers, during which he poked and prodded at her teeth and jaw while Liv¡¯s mother looked on nervously.


    "If that girl had hit you a year ago, she would have broken your jaw," the old chirurgeon said. "But it seems your new diet is helping in more ways than one. Not that I want you going off and roughhousing!" he chided her. "Caution is the word. Be thankful you¡¯ve gotten off so easily, and do not go looking for trouble."


    "Thank you, Master Cushing," Mama said, wrapping her arms around Liv again.


    "I told you I was fine," Liv said. Other than a fat lip, of course.


    "Mmmm," Cushing hummed. "Lady Julianne has sent word she¡¯ll serve as Master Reimis¡¯ guide this afternoon, in your ce. Take a bell to rest, Liv. Perhaps you could put your magic to good use and freeze a wet cloth; it would help keep the swelling down."


    "I¡¯ll make certain she does," Mama assured him. "Gretta can handle the preperations for dinner today." Despite Liv¡¯s insistence that she didn¡¯t need help, her mother walked with her all the way to her room on the second floor, and wouldn¡¯t let her alone until she had the cold cloth pressed to her mouth.


    "I don¡¯t need to rest," Livined.


    "Talk, then," her mother said, sitting down on the mattress next to her. "You spent all morning with that Eldish merchant. What did he tell you?"


    "A few things," Liv said, mumbling around the cloth. "He told me about my aunt. He said she was called Livara of the Five des, and that she died at the bottom of a rift."


    "He recognized you, then," Mama said.


    "As soon as he saw me and heard my name," she confirmed. "I guess he knew her, before she was killed. He said I look just like her."


    Her mother squeezed her tight. "I thought it would take longer," she said. "Your father- I promised you that I¡¯d tell you his name. Maybe now is the time."


    "I want to know," Liv said. "I¡¯m not going to leave, Mama. Not for a long time yet. But if other people are going to recognize me, don¡¯t you think I should know, too?"


    "His hair is just like yours," her mother said, in a soft voice. "White as fresh snow. Soft. He was so sad, dove, that it broke my heart. I know it must seem silly, but I just wanted to make him feel better." Margaret Brodbeck took a deep breath. "His name is Valtteri Ka Auris. I don¡¯t know much about the great doings of Eldish houses, but I know he¡¯s the son of their baron, or whatever they call it. His sister was the older one, the heir, until she was gone."


    "Thank you," Liv said. "For telling me."


    Mama turned and pressed her lips to Liv¡¯s forehead. "I just want you to be safe and happy, my love," she said. "You don¡¯t need to be running off to the north and fighting monsters."


    "I promised Master Reimis that I would go to Al¡¯Fenthia," Liv told her. "After I was done at the college. But that¡¯s a long time away. In return, he said he won¡¯t tell anyone I exist."


    "Let¡¯s not borrow trouble that hasn¡¯t arrived yet, then," her mother said. "Alright. I need to make sure Gretta isn¡¯t burning the kitchen down. You keep that cloth on your lip."


    "I will, Mama," Liv promised.


    The moment the door had closed, however, she got up and went over to her desk, where she¡¯d set down the book Master Jurian had bought her. Liv flipped it open to the very first page, then uncorked one of her bottles of ink and dipped a quill.


    Livara T?r Valtteri Kaen Syv?, she wrote carefully, and then blew gently on the ink to dry it.


    ?


    The harvest was no quick thing. It was a matter of not days, but tendays, more than a full month ofbour that required nearly the entire town to pitch in. The mana-infused crops had grown taller and more fruitful than in any year that Liv could remember, and the sight of overgrown fields and gardens reminded her of Master Reimis¡¯ magic.


    Even in a normal year, the farmers of the Aspen River Valley worked from dawn to dusk to get the crops in, but the amount ofbour required this time was staggering. Baron Henry reduced the castle guard to only two men at a time, and sent all the others to help in the fields. The negotiations with Master Reimis must have been fruitful, for wagonloads of Elden workers came down the road from the north, set up tents outside of town, and joined in the mammoth task.


    Liv was one of the few people not allowed to help. Even Masters Grenfell and Forester pitched in, though Aldo Cushing was too old. Baron Henry was carried out of his rooms every morning and set on his chair in the great hall, where he coordinated with Master Reimis and Lady Julianne to organize everything. With all their time taken up by the effort, Liv was sent to help the governess, Meredith, care for little Matthew. She still had her lessons in the morning with the old chirurgeon, but she spent the rest of her time either ying with the baby, or helping Mama and Gretta in the kitchen, where they toiled long hours to make enough food for the overworked castle guards.


    It was probably not coincidence, Liv had decided, that the tasks she¡¯d been given kept her well away from the Elden workers who hade south to help. Master Reimis had promised to keep the secret of her existence, and he couldn¡¯t well do that if hundreds of people saw her out in the fields, and brought word of a lost Elden child back north.


    Not until the fields were nearly empty did Master Grenfelle to the nursery to pluck her away from her tasks. "Thest wagons are going north today," he said, from where he stood in the doorway. The wound he¡¯d picked up during the culling had faded to a faint scar on his scalp, marking his forehead on the right side. "I¡¯ve been neglecting your lessons, but this is an opportunity I do not want you to miss. Gather your things and meet me in the courtyard."


    Liv handed the sleeping infant off to Meredith, lifted her staff from where she¡¯d ced it in the corner, and then ran to her room to get her spellbook. Then, she rushed down the grand staircase and out into the courtyard. When, she wondered, had she stopped using the servants¡¯ stairs?


    Lady Julianne and Master Grenfell were waiting with the carriage, but Liv didn¡¯t see the baron anywhere. "Henry saw the first load off," the baron¡¯s wife exined. "And he was sore for days after. There¡¯s no need for him toe now. Hop inside."


    "What are we going to see?" Liv asked, once all three of them were seated and the carriage was rolling through the streets of The Hill. "We¡¯re not going all the way up to the high passes, surely?"


    "Oh no," Master Grenfell exined. "The Eld aren¡¯t taking their wagons nearly so far. In fact, we¡¯re going to the foot of Bald Peak, just outside the shoal of the rift."


    "For what?" Liv wondered.


    "We want you to see the waystone in use," Lady Julianne said. "Very few humans can wield enough mana to activate it, but Master Reimis can. Consider it your lesson for the day."


    Liv couldn¡¯t help but grin as the carriage left Whitehill through the west gate, then turned north.

 31. The Waystone

    When Liv had pictured a waystone in her mind, she¡¯d imagined a sort of empty doorframe, made of mana-stone, standing out in the middle of nowhere. It would probably be carved with obscure V?dic sigils, the sort of thing schrs at Coral Bay had been studying for years in a fruitless effort to build new portals.


    She¡¯d never imagined just how big they were.


    "That entire thing is the waystone?" Liv asked, again. They¡¯d left the road up to the mine, and the carriage had turned off onto a rougher, more overgrown trail that led down toward the Aspen River. In fact, a section had been washed out by some past flood, and a bridge of timbers erected to bridge the gap. At the end of the trail, on a bluff overlooking the river, half a dozen wagons were crammed up against each other atop an enormous stretch of stone. If Liv had to guess, she would say it was at least fifty feet across.


    "The old gods built waystones to transport goods, as well as travellers," Master Grenfell exined, leading her over to where the edge of the waystone gave way to moss. It was clear at a nce that much of the stone had only been cleared recently, and Liv guessed it had been done just for this expedition - probably when the Eld came down to help with the harvest.


    "I was picturing a sort of door that you walked through," Liv admitted.


    "Oh no," Master Reimis broke in, walking over from where he¡¯d been seeing to the wagons. The teams of horses shuffled, flicking their tails to keep the flies away, while they waited. "They had things like that, of course; personal waystones to move from their homes to ces like Godsgrave. But most of those were destroyed, or lost in the depths of a rift. What remains are waystones that existed to move goods. Aluthet¡¯Staia from here, for instance. And there¡¯s no good moving only as much stone as man on foot can carry through a door in his two hands. Here,e take a look, Livara."


    Together, the four of them crouched down at the edge of the waystone, even Lady Julianne. "I expected it would be mana-stone, and there would be sigils," Liv said, shifting her staff into her left hand. "I¡¯m d that I got that right, at least."


    "Master Norris actually has a theory that the stones areyered," Grenfell exined. "With entireworks of sigils on eachyer. He believes there are just too many enchantments, all designed to interact with each other inplex ways, for what we see on the surface. Of course, there¡¯s no way to know without breaking one of the waystones apart into pieces, and no one is going to do that."


    "I suspect even making the attempt would be dangerous," Reimis added. "Look here, along the border, Livara. This is where the destinations are listed - in V?dic, of course. Do you see one that you recognize?"


    Liv shook her head. "Master Grenfell hasn¡¯t begun teaching me sigils, yet," she admitted.


    "Then let me point a few out. Over here," Master Reimis said, rising to his feet and moving clockwise around the rim of the waystone, "is the inscription for Al¡¯Fenthia - High Pass, in the V?dic tongue." Liv followed him around; though the Elden merchant only pointed a few sets of sigils out to her by name, picked out in gleaming silver, she saw dozens. "This is Coral Bay, here," he said. "One to remember, for when you¡¯re ready to travel there. I would show you the sigils for Bald Peak, but no waystone carries the inscriptions for itself."


    "The inscriptions are a fascinating subject for study, in and of themselves," Master Grenfell mused, trailing after them. "The names of particr locations are often slightly different - or we have dropped pieces, in the intervening years. Sometimes the information is obvious enough: Coral Bay Fishery, for instance. They still farm scallops and oysters there."


    "Sometimes parts are entirely untrantable. Bald Peak Power- something," Julianne remarked. "I don¡¯t understand that one. Your home is listed as ¡¯High Pass Crop Breeding, though again, thest piece I can¡¯t catch. But it is like a window into another world, long in the past."


    "So how does it work?" Liv asked. "Obviously you want this one." She nudged the butt of her staff against the inscriptions that marked the trading city of Al¡¯Fenthia. "Mayor Cooper said this stone was broken, but I know Master Jurian used it to get here from Coral Bay."


    "It isn¡¯t broken," Master Reimis said. "It simply isn¡¯t powered. Though even that is only partly true; this waystone absorbed quite a bit of mana from the recent eruption. We were able to use that to send the first group of wagons, three days ago."


    "If the shoal were just a bitrger," Master Grenfell exined, "the stone would likely charge itself. We believe one of the enchantments in the loweryers is designed to draw in ambient mana."


    "Without a shoal, however, it takes a substantial amount of magical power to activate," Reimis continued. "Most human mages can¡¯t do it alone."


    "But Eld can hold more mana, can¡¯t they?" Liv said. She hoped no one noticed the hesitation; she¡¯d almost said ¡¯we,¡¯ instead, and caught herself at thest moment.


    "On average," Reimis agreed. "The otherplication is that the amount of mana needed is based on the size of the stone, not the number of people or wagons you¡¯re sending. When the waystone activates, everything standing here will go. It gives us an incentive to use the stones forrge groups, rather than just a person or two."


    "How much mana does this stone require?" Liv asked.


    "Twenty rings," Master Grenfell answered. Liv blinked; that was not only more than he could handle, it was more than she could, as well. Together, however, they could make it happen. But it also put into perspective how much more powerful Master Jurian was.


    "Can more than one person help?" she asked. As long as she had them here willing to exin, Liv wanted to learn as much as she could.


    Reimis nodded. "That¡¯s what we have to do at home. Our waystone is actuallyrger than this one; in the mages¡¯ guild¡¯s system of measurements, it would take about thirty rings to use. That¡¯s more than I can do myself, but this one I can handle. Now, when I infuse the appropriate sigils with mana, watch what happens."


    The merchant knelt down, ced his palm over the set of inscriptions for his home city, and closed his eyes. Liv could feel the waystone open up, like a flower drinking in sunlight. She¡¯d gotten used to how her staff seemed to suck in mana, and this reminded her of that sensation, only much stronger. The waystone drank and drank, and began to shine with a bright blue light.


    "That means the stone is activating," Master Reimis said, rising back to his feet. "Make sure that none of you are standing on it. The blue light is a warning that the stone is about to send us to our destination. If there was a grouping in, the light would be red."


    "How long does it take?" Liv asked. She also took two big steps back off the stone onto the grass.


    "I was taught to give a slow count of two-hundred," Lady Julianne said.


    "Farewell, Livara," Airis Ka Reimis called. "I look forward to seeing you in a few years. You may write to me, if you wish, and I will respond."


    "Goodbye!" Liv called, waving her hand. The blue light grew so bright that she had to raise her arm to shield her eyes, and then it was snuffed out, like a candle. When she had blinked away the dark spots in her vision, she saw that the waystone was entirely empty. "Is it safe now?" she asked Master Grenfell. When the mage nodded, she rushed out into the center of the rock, and turned around, looking at the dozens of sigils syed out along the rim.


    "Every one of these is a ce we could go," she said, grinning. "Somewhere out in the world."


    "Not all of them," Julianne cautioned her. "You see these, here?" She traced a set of sigils with the toe of her boot. Unlike the inscriptions for Coral Bay or Al¡¯Fenthia, the silver within them had tarnished. "That means the waystone at the destination has been damaged or destroyed. Never use one of those."


    "When it¡¯s time to go to Coral Bay," Liv said, turning to Master Grenfell, "do you think I can use this to get there?"


    Grenfell shrugged. "You can hold thirteen rings now, Liv. And you have a great deal of time to grow and develop your power. It is possible."


    "Even if you can¡¯t do it alone," Julianne offered, "the three of us together easily can. Now that you¡¯vee into your magic, and I¡¯m here, Master Grenfell wouldn¡¯t have to do it alone. Now, let¡¯s get back. It¡¯s a long ride."


    "That reminds me," Liv said, scampering off the stone. "I wanted to ask you, Master, whether there was a word for something like a cage. I think the men on the wall would have had an easier time killing that fox if they could shoot through bars, instead of just down over the walls.


    "I¡¯m not aware of one," Grenfell admitted. Together, the three walked across the bluff down toward the carriage. "Which isn¡¯t to say the V?dim didn¡¯t have a word, of course; they must have. Whatever it was has been lost. Have you considered stelis? That would get you a pir, and with enough of those, you¡¯d form your own cage."


    By the time they¡¯d settled into their benches, and the team of horses was off, they were deep into a discussion of spell theory.


    ?


    At the end of harvest season, much of the town of Whitehill was surprised to find that Mayor Cooper, who¡¯d served four terms already, was not nning to run for election a fifth time. He told anyone who asked that he was selling his manor to buy a home in Coral Bay, so that he could provide Mirabel a home during the years she would be attending the College of V?dic Grammar. In his ce, Sheriff Porter stood for election, and won easily. The general sentiment was that he had more than proved himself capable during hismand of the town walls during Lady Julianne¡¯sbor.


    "Don¡¯t you miss the ie?" Liv asked Master Grenfell, a few days after the election. Aldo and Mirabel Cooper had left town the day before, with a drovers¡¯ train headed south out of the valley. She imagined they were trying to beat the snow, before it closed the passes. Left unsaid was the knowledge that they could have used the waystone, if anyone capable of using mana had wanted the slightest thing to do with them.


    "No," Grenfell said. "I¡¯ve been eager to be rid of the two of them for some while. It was a waste of my time to teach them anything; it¡¯s clear neither will ever be mages. Again, and try integrating kap, this time."


    Liv raised her staff. Below, they¡¯d had James and Piers set up a half dozen straw archery targets. One had been thrown twenty feet back by a pir of ice rising beneath it, while a second was crushed beneath three pirs that had risen around it, then toppled over. She pointed her staff at the third target, and began her incantation.


    "Celent¡¯he Encve Stelim Kapium," Liv sang, a smile curving her lips in spite of herself at the sensation of the mana surging through her, into the length of aspen-wood, and then out again. Around the base of the archery target, five pirs of ice erupted from the ground, closing around it like a fist. "Yes," she said, after catching her breath. "That does work better."


    "Still too slow, though," Grenfell said. "You¡¯ll need to add Veh back in."


    "It¡¯s already using three rings of mana, even with the staff," Liv protested. "That would push it to four, at least."


    "Worth it, to ensure that you actually capture your target," Grenfell told her. "I feel like Jurian¡¯s words areing out of my mouth."


    "He does a lot of fighting, I take it?" Liv asked. "I think I¡¯ll call this ¡¯Grasping Ice."


    "As good a name as any," the master mage told her. "Be sure to record it properly in your book when we get back to the castle. Master Jurian and his team were one of the first groups to cull the wild rifts in Varuna," he exined. "It made them rather famous, and not a little wealthy. He even brought a word back to the guild, found in one of those ancient ruins. Of course, it didn¡¯t help them in the end."


    "What do you mean?" Liv asked.


    "I mean they were fool enough to go into the shoals of Godsgrave," Master Grenfell exined. "I don¡¯t know the whole story, but most of them died there. Only two came out alive - Jurian, and his betrothed."


    "Master Jurian is married?" Liv asked.


    "No." Grenfell shook his head. "She called it off, after that fiasco. Went to serve as court mage for the king. The whole thing was a mess, enough that I heard about it all the way out here."


    Liv bit her lip, trying to imagine the strong, confident mage who¡¯d saved her from Mayor Cooper and the guilds losing a fight. Not only losing a fight, but losing people who must have been his friends, and then being abandoned by the woman who should have been his wife. She couldn¡¯t make the knowledge fit the man she¡¯d met, so she changed the subject.


    "Do you know the word for sword?" she asked.


    "Eager to follow in your aunt¡¯s footsteps, are you?" Grenfell asked her, with a smile. "Has it escaped your notice that, just like Jurian¡¯s team, she died at the bottom of a rift?"


    "I saw you all when you came back from Bald Peak," Liv said. "I know it¡¯s dangerous. But it was dangerous to be left behind, too. And if no one went, all those monsters would spill out, wouldn¡¯t they?"


    "They would," Grenfell said. "I just want you to understand, that it is much safer to find a ce as a court mage to a decent noble, and spend your time teaching children, than it is to go wandering around the western continent like he did. At Whitehill, I only need to go on a culling team every twenty years or so, when Bald Peak erupts."


    "I¡¯m not saying I enjoyed fighting those bats," Liv said. "But if I hadn¡¯t known how, I¡¯d be dead now - and so would Lady Julianne, Sophia, and baby Matthew. Learning the right spells kept us all alive."


    "True enough," the older mage admitted. "You want sek. Observe." Grenfell held out his right hand, fingers open. "Aluthet¡¯he Sekis." A shining de of mana, shedding blue and gold wisps of power, extended from his palm. The moment it solidified, Master Grenfell closed his fingers about the hilt, grasping it, and then made a cut through the air.


    "Not a spell I use often," he admitted. "Like a shield of raw mana, this construct continues to draw from me the longer I use it. That is why I generally find it more efficient to fling shards at a distance - as well as the fact that I am no swordsman, and have no business fighting up close in someone¡¯s face. It does have a few advantages, however, and perhaps more for you than for me."


    "Like what?" Liv asked.


    "For one thing, maintaining the de doesn¡¯t require me to talk," Grenfell pointed out, whipping it around and then bringing the tip to a halt just in front of Liv¡¯s chest. "That¡¯s often a handy thing. It can be used for defense, as well as offense, if you are trained in swordy. It¡¯s also a rather contained disy of power: notice I¡¯m not shattering the ground or blowing apart doors."


    Liv took a step back. "And I wouldn¡¯t have to maintain it, would I?" she guessed. "Celet¡¯he Sekis." Just like her teacher had done, she extended her right hand, leaving her staff in the left, and opened her fingers. A momentter, a sword of ice rested in her palm. Rather than grasp it, however, Liv yelped and let the weapon drop. It shattered into frozen chunks on the parapet.


    "That¡¯s colder than I thought it would be," Livined. "How did she do it? And how did she use five of them?"


    Grenfell chuckled. "It actually relieves me, somewhat, to see that you don¡¯t get every spell perfect the first time," he admitted. "That wordes so naturally to you that it is astonishing, Liv. But some things simply require experimentation - trial and error. I would suggest that perhaps you shouldmission a good set of gloves. With the nature of your magic, I think you will find them convenient on more than one asion. Do you really want to learn to use a sword? Shall we add fencing lessons to your schedule?"


    "I don¡¯t know," Liv said, after a moment. "Probably not. I¡¯m too small; even if I had a magical sword, I can¡¯t see it preventing any of the guards from beating me into the ground. Let¡¯s stick to things I can actually be good at."


    "Come on," Master Grenfell said. "They¡¯ll be serving the evening meal."


    "I still want to know how she did it, though," Liv grumbled, following him down the stairs.

 32. Seasons

    The season turned to winter, and when southern Lucania was enjoying its first snowfall, Whitehill was already snowed in. Thick drifts of dry powder cut off the mountain passes, leaving no way out of the Aspen River Valley - save for a single waystone, at the foot of Bald Peak.


    Liv¡¯s days and nights slipped into routine. The excitement of the eruption was behind the town now, leaving a few scars, such as the one on Master Grenfell¡¯s scalp. It had left Baron Henry crippled, of course, and he rarely left his room, preferring to spend his days with a bottle of brandy. The farmers of the valley, on the other hand, had been left with an exceptional amount of coin, the profits of selling mana-enriched fruit and produce to their Eldish neighbors to the north.


    The farmers spent their windfall on warm winter clothing for their families, on new ploughs for their fields, or to make repairs to homes which had too long been neglected. The Eldish coins found their way, in this manner, to Master Gregory, the cksmith, who had his apprentices busy shoeing draft horses while he turned out ploughs. The coins reached Master Jeremiah Thatcher, as well, who had barely enough time to repair every roof in need before the first snows fell.


    Edme, the seamstress and dressmaker, got her share, mainly for skirts of thick winter wool that would keep the women and girls of the town warm until spring. The three inns of Whitehill cleaned and closed their guestrooms, forgetting the business of travelers until the thaw. Instead, the innkeepers at the Laughing Carp and the Gilded Star, in the Lower Banks, made their money selling cheap beer, ale and wine. They kept their hearths zing, theirmon rooms warm, and their patrons well lubricated. The pickpockets of the Lower Banks did good business, as well, among the crowded tables.


    At the Old Oak, the wine was better, and the food well-seasoned enough to draw shopkeepers like Master Gaunt. He carried a volume of poetry that had been delivered on thest wagon to make it in from the south. The new mayor, Master Porter, was seen there frequently, rubbing elbows with guild merchants and knights in service to Baron Henry, most of whom preferred to winter in town rather than at their country estates out in the valley.


    Liv found herself at the Old Oak as well, many afternoons. Now that she was Master Grenfell¡¯s only student, the character of their lessons had changed substantially. When they were not testing her spells, or taking measurements, they would work with a pile of notes and spellbooks. The older mage never told her what to do with her magic. Instead, he made suggestions. "Have you considered such and such a word?" he would ask her, and then open his own spellbook to give an example. She would work through the modifications, he would check the spell over for errors, and the next day they would go to the castle courtyard, the empty winter gardens, or up on the walls to test the changes.


    She was incredibly pleased with Grasping Ice - not only the name, but the effect of the spell, especially once Liv had gone along with her teacher¡¯s suggestion and inserted Veh to speed the effect up. When Master Forester took her and Emma hunting - he judged his daughter old enough to learn, since she¡¯d turned six - Liv always took the first shot at any mana-beast they found.


    At first, it was tricky to catch a buck on the move, but the more she practiced, the easier Liv found it. Curling pirs of ice would form around a white-coated hare or fox, gripping them tight in an instant. Master Forester rarely finished the trapped game; instead, he made Liv and Emma practice with their hunting knives, slitting the animals throats and then dressing the kills themselves.


    They used snow-shoes or skis, now, depending on where they hunted. Master Grenfell had given up the fiction of making Liv pay for her lessons, apparently only having maintained it in the first ce in order to preventining from Mirabel Cooper and her horrid aplice, Griselda.


    "If you¡¯re going to be hunting all up and down the valley," he told her gruffly, "you¡¯re going to need a heavier cloak. Make certain it¡¯s lined with fur. You can¡¯t always be relying on someone else¡¯s snowshoes or skis, either. And for the sake of the trinity, get yourself some good gloves."


    It was a different sort of exercise than she¡¯d gotten from James, the castle guard, and while going downhill was a liberating burst of speed and freedom, skiing cross-country was exhausting. Thankfully, Lady Julianne agreed that Liv was being worked hard enough on her hunting trips, so there was no more running circles around the castle that winter. By the time they returned from each expedition, encrusted with snow and ice, Liv¡¯s calves and thighs burned.


    Charlie, the ck mouser, was a source of worry. Shortly after Liv¡¯s thirteenth birthday, he¡¯d begun to absent himself from her bed, where he¡¯d previously been a constant fixture in the evenings. Indeed, no matter how they searched the castle, he couldn¡¯t be found until finally, one day, he was discovered in a nest he¡¯d made at the bottom of one of the old storage closets in the cer.


    "Look, Matthew, kittens!" she said. The fat-cheeked boy was adept at crawling himself into all sorts of trouble, now, but Liv had known instantly this would be a way to delight him. Lady Julianne leaned against the doorframe of the closet, watching her son with a broad smile. The little ck balls of fur tumbled across the floor, into Liv¡¯sp, and around the sitting baby as he reached out and grabbed for them.


    "It seems Charlie is a mother," Julianne remarked. "I¡¯m not certain how you went for years without noticing that he was, in fact, a she."


    "I never really looked!" Liv eximed.


    "I hope you¡¯ve learned enough anatomy now from Master Cushing that won¡¯t be a problem in the future." The baron¡¯s wife shook her head, but Liv knew Lady Julianne well enough to recognize a joke when she heard it.


    "Keep an eye on Matthew for the next hour or so, for me," thedy of the castle requested. "I need to meet with the guild leaders."


    Liv nodded, picking up one of the kittens that had wandered away, and depositing it in Matthew¡¯sp. The baby pped his hands in glee, and drooled. The guilds had mostly quieted themselves after Alban Cooper embarrassed them - at least publicly. Privately, Liv heard enough during her time attending Lady Julianne that she knew efforts had been made to make peace in the town. As near as she could tell, it was going to work out that Baron Henry would cast a small number of votes in their favor, the next time King Rnd summoned his great council. Only the precise number was now up for negotiation.


    After they¡¯d bothered Charlie and her kittens for long enough, Liv scooped Matthew up and took him to the kitchen, where he was passed around fromp top while the evening meal was prepared. Lady Julianne¡¯s meeting with the guilds must have runter than she expected, for Matthew was still with the servants when the footmen began carrying tters up to the great hall. Liv pitched in to help her mother and Gretta, and somehow, in the chaos, Archibald ended up being the one holding the baby when he finally fell asleep.


    "I should take him upstairs and put him down," Liv said, brushing flour off her hands.


    "Meredith can do that in a moment," the first footman said, brushing a finger over the child¡¯s cheek. "He will be the third generation of this family I¡¯ve served, you know."


    Liv plopped herself down at the table next to them. "Have you ever thought about having a family of your own?" she asked. She couldn¡¯t have said what put the question in her head: there was just something natural, in that moment, about seeing mean old Archie with an infant in his arms.


    "No," Archibald said. "I didn¡¯t have a happy childhood, Liv," he said, and there was something about his voice in that moment that consumed her attention entirely. "My father was not a good man. He was a drunk, and when he was in his cups his best friend was a leather belt. My grandfather was the same way. It is a curse, I think," he exined. "Not magic, but a curse all the same, passed down from one useless sot to the next. Well, it dies with me. I¡¯ll never look at the bottom of a bottle to find my son¡¯s weeping, bruised face staring back at me. It¡¯s better this way."


    Liv swallowed, and couldn¡¯t for the life of her think of a single thing to say in that moment. Then, the doors opened, and Tom and Edward rushed in for the next set of dishes. "Here," Archibald said, passing the sleeping baby to Liv. "I¡¯ll be wanted upstairs."


    ?


    The seasons turned.


    The year that Matthew was seven, and Liv neen, Big Whit Cotter lost a bare-knuckle tournament, for the first time that she could remember. He¡¯d been getting fatter and grayer for years, and it was his son, Little Whit, who finally dethroned him. Emma looked older than Liv did, now, though she was actually six years and change younger. She was taller, too: after that first spurt of growth, Liv¡¯s diet had only kept her growing at a slow pace.


    As best Master Cushing could guess, she grew at about half the rate of a human child. Liv was hovering right between four foot four inches and four foot five inches, depending on the heel of her shoes or her hairstyle when she was measured. Matthew had caught up to within less than a head of her, which ording to his father, was big enough to begin learning the sword.


    From the moment the winter snows melted that year, the off-duty guards had Matthew in the courtyard with a heavy wooden sword in his hand, going through his paces. Baron Henry, who was now quite broad in both body and face, got more sunlight than at any time since he could walk. For each and every training session, he was certain to be carried out and set in a chair on the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, so that he could observe. asionally, he would even call one of the guards over to pass a message or make a suggestion.


    Liv could tell having his father take such an interest was working Matthew up to a fever pitch. The boy devoted himself to the task, desperate to earn a few words of his father¡¯s praise. Most afternoons, Liv and Emma would find themselves a ce to sit and watch. At Baron Henry¡¯s suggestion, each day would end with what both Liv and Matthew considered to be a special treat. After James and Piers got through exhausting the boy, it was Liv¡¯s turn.


    Matthew was loaned a sharp arming sword, and took his stance at the center of the courtyard. Liv stood up, staff in hand, and walked closer - though she always made certain to keep a safe distance. At the baron¡¯s signal, she would begin to cast. At her invocation, the sigils of her staff red to life, and forms of ice rose around Matthew.


    Behind him, to his left or right, sculptures of armed men, wielding shields, crossbows, pikes, or any other weapon Liv could think of, rose half-formed. The game was for Matthew to strike them down before Liv could finish sculpting them. She tried to spin him out of position, using one statue to upy him while ndestinely beginning a second in the opposite direction. The first she might make slow, to force Matthew to wait, while the second snapped into ce in the ce of only a few breaths, thanks to a bit of extra mana and the inclusion of Veh. Or, she might take the opposite tack, and try to distract him with multiple quick castings, while slowly building a third statue in the hopes he would not notice it. By the end, Liv would be drained of mana, and Matthew would be soaked in sweat, but both would be grinning, while Emma pped her hands.


    At the beginning of thest month of flood season, however, Matthew caught Liv by surprise. Not by shattering her statues; in fact, he put her off guard at the very beginning of the training session.


    "Liv, why don¡¯t youe practice too?" he asked. The mornings were all warm sunlight, now, with the worst of the rains gone. Though Liv had never liked rolling out of bed, as far back as when she¡¯d been getting up early to empty chamber pots and scrub dishes, the boy seemed to have an endless well of energy.


    "Me?" Liv blinked.


    "You," Matthew repeated. "Everyone I spar with is so much bigger than I am. It isn¡¯t fair. At least you¡¯re closer to my size. And you have that sword-spell, don¡¯t you? You might as well learn how to use it."


    "Why doesn¡¯t Emma learn, then?" Liv suggested, trying to distract him. The boy was stubborn as a mule once he got something in his head.


    "Not me," Emma protested. "I¡¯m a hunter like my father. Thest thing I should ever be doing is swinging a sword at anyone. Plus, I¡¯m taller than both of you, and Matthew wants someone closer to his own size."


    Piers, who was supervising the training that morning, was useless: he just shrugged. "If you want to learn, Liv, I can teach you. Seems a waste to have a spell you don¡¯t know how to use, don¡¯t it?" She shouldn¡¯t have been surprised the man was a traitor: after all, he¡¯d married Sophie two years ago. At least it had seemed to make her less miserable.


    "Fine," Liv said. She handed Emma her spellbook and staff to hold, then, after a moment, slipped off her ring as well and put it in the pocket she kept under her skirt. Thest thing she wanted was to have her finger pop open like a blister, caught between the metal ring and a practice sword. "I don¡¯t think skirts are made for this sort of work, though."


    "We start with footwork, like every morning," Piers said, and handed her a wooden sword.


    Somewhere along the way, in spite of herself, Liv realized that she was having fun. It was a different kind of exercise than skiing, swimming or running. While her legs seemed to be in good shape for it, her arms were a different story entirely, and the practice swords were heavier than she¡¯d thought they would be. All the same, the guards and parries seemed simple enough to remember: perhaps because she¡¯d spent years memorizing charts of cases and conjugations in V?dic. Soon enough, it was time to learn cuts, set asides, and parries.


    They had Liv cut first, while Matthew blocked her in whatever way the exercise demanded. The first crack of wood on wood made her jump, and Liv couldn¡¯t quite get over a lingering bit of hesitation. She¡¯d spent so many years avoiding just this kind of physical activity that even now she couldn¡¯t shake the fear of an ident, of something happening that her weak bones couldn¡¯t stand up to. In fact, she suspected that if Master Cushing had known what she was doing right now, he¡¯d never have allowed it.


    All the same, she made it through her cuts without incident, and for a boy his age, Matthew had been patient with her. It was when it became Liv¡¯s turn to block, and Matthew¡¯s to cut, that she began to feel like things were spinning out of control.


    Matthew had been training for months already, since the first days of flood season, as soon as the courtyard was clear of snow and ice. Swinging at half speed didn¡¯t satisfy him for long, and as he cut, he put more and more speed and force into his swings. Liv was able to get her wooden sword up in time to block, with a loud crack each time, but the whole thing was beginning to make her nervous.


    "Slow down!" she told him, but Matthew was grinning by now and really enjoying himself. Liv¡¯s skirts swished about her as she backed up, swinging her weapon up to block as quickly as she could. "Matthew!"


    With a shout and a flourish, the boy swung down from over his shoulder, if not as hard as he could, than close to it. Liv knew what she was supposed to do, at least, and she raised the length of wood in her hands to block. But the moment the crack rung across the courtyard, she felt a jaggednce of pain in her right arm.


    Liv dropped her practice sword and cried out, falling to her knees and cradling her arm against her belly. It was all she could do to blink away the tears gathering at the corner of her eye. She knew this feeling: it had been a long time, but she¡¯d never truly believed that it was gone for good.


    "Liv, I¡¯m sorry," Matthew shouted, dropping his own sword and wrapping his arms around her. "I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to."


    It was toote: Liv didn¡¯t need Master Cushing to tell her that she¡¯d broken her arm.

 33. Cel膿vant

    "A fracture of the distal radius," Master Cushing pronounced, though he continued to probe Liv¡¯s forearm with his fingers. She winced, but managed not to cry aloud. "Foolishness," the old chirurgeon said. "I¡¯ve told you over and over again you need to take care of your bones, girl. What possessed you?"


    "I thought it was better now," Liv said. Master Cushing began to assemble his supplies: she saw that it was the old familiar routine of the bowl of warm ster, and strips of linen. "I¡¯ve been eating the right food for years now. I hunt a lot of it myself. When are my bones going to finally be better?"


    "They are better," the chirurgeon said, helping her to uce the attached sleeve of her bodice, so that they could get her linen shift out of the way. "Your bones are healthier than they were when you were a child. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve allowed you to go out on these hunting expeditions, and all the rest. But your bones still aren¡¯t as strong as those of a normal, healthy person, and you cannot forget that."


    "But when will they be?" Liv pressed him.


    "Never," Master Cushing told her, with a sigh. In that moment, he looked very old, and withered, like dry summer grass. He had little more than a few wisps of white hair remaining, and the scalp beneath was spotted and thin, like paper. "It never will, Liv. You missed a dozen years when your body should have been growing strong. You¡¯ll never get that back. I¡¯m sorry, but you are never going to be as tall or as strong as you should have been. It is a hard thing to hear, but you need to face it. You¡¯re old enough to understand."


    Liv looked away, biting back tears, as he wrapped her arm. "So I can¡¯t ever learn to use a sword," she asked him. It shouldn¡¯t have hurt so much; she hadn¡¯t even wanted to, in the first ce. My aunt was Livara of the Five des, she thought bitterly. And I¡¯ll be Livara of No des.


    "The break didn¡¯t happen until the two of you went at full speed?" Cushing asked her. ster dripped into the bowl every time he soaked a strip of linen, then lifted it out.


    "That¡¯s right," Liv said.


    "You can learn at half speed, if you truly want to," the chirurgeon said. "But you need to wait at least twenty days. Don¡¯t put any weight on your arm until I take the cast off."


    "I write with my right hand," Liv objected.


    "Writing is fine, but lift the book with your left. Carry your staff with your left hand. I¡¯m going to give you a sling, once this dries. When you write, you rest your arm on the desk. No weight, you understand?"


    "Yes." Liv nodded. It was just like when she was a little girl all over again. And it was never going to get better. She just had to ept it.


    There was something of a crowd waiting in the hallway, when she finally emerged. Mama was there, of course, with Emma; Lady Julianne was standing behind Matthew, who looked like he¡¯d been crying. The boy was growing so fast it was easy to forget he was only seven years old.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Liv," Matthew said, and rushed forward to wrap his arms around her. Liv tried not to be resentful that it was her arm broken, but he was the one who was crying. Instead, she put her left hand on his back, and moved it in the slow circles that had calmed him when he was an infant.


    "I¡¯m going to be alright," she told everyone. "I just can¡¯t use my arm for a few weeks. And Matthew, next time, only half speed. You understand?"


    The boy nodded his head, and allowed his mother to pry him away. "Take the afternoon to rest," Lady Julianne suggested. "Come along, Emma, Matthew. Let¡¯s give Liv a chance to lie down."


    "I¡¯lle visit you again tomorrow," Emma said, waving as she left. When it was only Liv and her mother alone in the hallway, they turned and walked to her room in silence.


    "He said my bones are as strong as they¡¯ll ever be," Liv said, after they¡¯d closed the door behind them. She sat down on her bed, where Charlie was sleeping in a patch of sunlight, andid her cheek upon the ck cat¡¯s warm fur.


    "I¡¯m sorry," Mama said. "If I¡¯d known, I would have gotten you the right food."


    "It isn¡¯t your fault," Liv said. "It isn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault. It just is."


    "What do you want?" her mother asked.


    "My books," Liv decided, after a moment. "Over there." She let the cat be, and maneuvered herself under a nket, with two pillows at her back. Now the snow had melted, her furs had been packed away until next winter. Her mother brought over all four books that had been stacked on her desk, and Liv used her left hand to pull out the newest.


    "What is that one?" Mama asked, sitting on the bed next to her.


    "In the old baron¡¯s collection is a copy of Semhis Thorn-Killer¡¯s diary," Liv said. "Baron Henry gave me permission to read it years ago, but the entire thing is written in V?dic, and at the time, I didn¡¯t know thenguage well enough to read it. So, instead, I bought a nk book from Master Gaunt, and copied it."


    "By hand? The entire thing? When you couldn¡¯t even read what it said?" Mama asked. Liv held the book so that they could both see, and flipped to the first page with writing on it.


    "It took a while," Liv said. "I worked on it when I had the spare time. To bepletely honest, it¡¯s still too difficult for me. There¡¯s so many words we¡¯ve forgotten the meaning of, to say nothing of idiomatguage that¡¯s been lost. But I don¡¯t need to know the story." She found the page she was looking for, and tapped her finger against a short phrase.


    "What¡¯s that, then?" Her mother leaned forward to get a closer look.


    "That is a spell," Liv said. "I already knew that I couldn¡¯t fight with a sword. It would have been nice to be able to practice with Matthew, but that isn¡¯t what I¡¯m good at. This is."


    "Alright, then," Mama said. The older woman stood up from the bed and kissed Liv on the forehead. "I¡¯ll have one of the girls bring you a meal up here, if you like. But you should go down for dinner."


    Liv nodded and made a noise, but she was already focused on the words she¡¯d copied years ago. In truth, she didn¡¯t even hear the door close when her mother left the room. With her left hand, she reached for the stack of volumes her mother had brought over, and opened her spellbook to the back, where Master Jurian had first left her pages of notes on spell construction. More and more, she was finding the limits of what he¡¯d seen fit to include.


    "Desation Ward," Liv mumbled, tranting the name of the spell. She¡¯d been using her spare time in the evenings to mine Thorn-Killer¡¯s spells for words that she didn¡¯t already know, things that might be useful in constructing her own incantations. But there was something very odd about this one.


    Themon element among all of the author¡¯s spells was a single word of power: Ters, the same word that the Summersets used to this very day. Long ago, Liv had thought that just knowing the meaning of a word was enough to master it, but years of experience had taught her otherwise. A word of power had to be attuned before it could be used, a process of using mental images and associations to resonate with the core concept of the magic. Without Baron Henry to guide her, trying to use Ters as the base of a spell was a lot like punching the castle wall. She knew that he¡¯d begun teaching Matthew, but it was slow going.


    However, in theory, Liv understood how to conjugate Ters, just like she could conjugate her own word, Cel. Which meant that she should recognize the form of Ters being used in this spell. But she didn¡¯t. She looked back over to the chart drawn by Master Jurian¡¯s hand, at the back of her spellbook.


    "Ters¨¥vant," Liv murmured. There was no matching entry in the table she¡¯d been given. Ters could have been irregr; Master Grenfell had told her that some words of power used slightly different conjugation from the norm. Except it wasn¡¯t. She flipped through the book, double checking the other spells she¡¯d marked. Every one of them matched a form present in her notes, except for this one. It was frustrating.


    Liv threw the nket back, gathered up both books under her left arm, and went off to find Master Grenfell.


    ?


    She finally found him in the north tower of the castle, in the old baron¡¯s observatory. Liv slipped into the dusty room, closed the door behind her, and settled herself in one of the two cushioned chairs. Her teacher had the telescopepletely disassembled, and was cleaning the new lenses he¡¯d bought from Coral Bay the year before.


    "Ah, Liv," Grenfell muttered, not even looking up from his work. "How did Lord Matthew¡¯s practice in the yard go today?"


    "Well enough for him," Liv remarked. "Not so good for me."


    At that, Master Grenfell finally looked up, blinked twice, and finally recognized the cast on her arm. "I¡¯d thought we were past that," the older mage remarked, setting aside his lens.


    "Master Cushing says I won¡¯t ever be past it entirely," Liv told him. "The price of a dozen years eating the wrong food."


    "For what it is worth, I¡¯m sorry," Grenfell told her. "But if it serves to keep you focused on where your true talents lie, perhaps it is not such a bad thing. You have the time and inclination to master your word of power in a way that few of us ever could, Liv. Six years of study here, and you¡¯re not even near the time to leave for college. Concentrate on what you¡¯re good at, rather than trying to do things you aren¡¯t suited for."


    "That¡¯s what brings me up here, actually," Liv told him. "I found something odd in Thorn-Killer¡¯s diary. At first I thought I¡¯d just made a mistake, but I¡¯ve double and triple checked. One of these conjugations is wrong." She held her copied book in herp, turning it to face Master Grenfell, and put the tip of her left index finger right on the spell. "Ters¨¥vant," she said. "I¡¯ve never seen that form before. What does it mean?"


    Grenfell took his time answering, leaning forward over the book to get a close look. "Ah, yes," he said. "I don¡¯t want you ying with that, yet. It¡¯s dangerous."


    "If I understand the name of the spell correctly," Liv pressed, "it¡¯s called Desation Ward. What does that mean?"


    "If I answer this question," Grenfell said, leaning back in his own chair, "I want your promise that you will not go experimenting without my guidance."


    "I haven¡¯t pushed you about enchanting," Liv pointed out.


    "You have not," her teacher agreed. "And I take your point. You have been quite responsible. Ters¨¥vant," he exined, "is in the active future tense, rather than in the present."


    "Future?" Liv closed the book, taking a moment to process. "Meaning the spell doesn¡¯t actually take ce at the time it¡¯s cast?"


    "Correct," Grenfell said. "This is advanced spellcraft, Liv. Working with the future tense means that you can cast a spell to trigger on a certain condition. And that is what makes it so dangerous. Can you think of any ways such a thing would go wrong?"


    "I can think of a few reasons it would be incredible," Liv said, smiling. "It takes too long for me to cast an Icewall. If I tried to use it to save myself from a crossbow bolt, I¡¯d be a pincushion by the time I finished talking. But if I could cast it ahead of time, and trigger the magic when someone loosed a bolt at me.."


    "You see the potential," Grenfell said. "As everyone does, when first introduced to the concept. But not the danger. Let¡¯s take Thorn-killer¡¯s spell, there. Desation Ward. A nasty bit of magic, and one I had the distinct privilege to watch Baron Henry use, during thest eruption. He would set it down around our campsite every night. A ring of powdered Aluthet¡¯Staia to hold the magic - don¡¯t even ask me how much each casting cost him. And what do you think happened to anything that crossed that circle?"


    "Ters sucks all the moisture out of a target," Liv said. While the Summersets would only teach the word to members of the family, they didn¡¯t make any real effort to hide its destructive capabilities. She supposed it helped to discourage their enemies. "So any mana-beast that crossed the circle of powder would instantly dry out and shrivel up."


    "A painful way to die," Master Grenfell said, nodding his head.


    "I could adapt this to freeze anyone who crossed," Liv realized.


    "You could." Grenfell nodded. "But here is the problem, my dear. Let us say you do that. You¡¯re camping on one of your hunting trips, and youy out your ward, and go to sleep secure in the knowledge that no enemy can approach you. All well and good, yes? A wolf tries to cross the circle, and it dies. That¡¯s fine, you¡¯ll find it in the morning and skin it, or whatever Master Forester¡¯s been teaching you to do."


    "I don¡¯t see the problem yet," Liv said.


    "What if it isn¡¯t a wolf that crosses the ward?" Grenfell asked. "What if it¡¯s a wandering hunter who sees your fire? What happens to him? What if it¡¯s a lost child? The magic doesn¡¯t draw a distinction, Liv. It had no judgement. We provide the judgement. A mage chooses when to use force, and when not to. When you leave it to the magic to decide, it will simply do what it¡¯s been instructed to do. Even if the results are not what you want."


    "You¡¯re saying it shouldn¡¯t ever be used," Liv said.


    "No. I¡¯m saying it must be used in the correct circumstances, and with exceptional care and forethought," Grenfell told her. "Your idea about the Icewall. Why not just walk around with a stored spell all the time? Contingent on the event of someone attacking you with a weapon? Use your mind, like I have taught you. What could go wrong?"


    "The wall forms, regardless of what else might be in the way," Liv said, after considering for a moment. "Or where you are. It could break something, if you¡¯re inside a building. If it was big enough, it could knock down a wall or a roof."


    "What if someone was standing right where the wall appears?" Grenfell asked.


    "At best, they¡¯re knocked aside," Liv said. "At worst, frozen into the wall. It could kill someone, just like the ward."


    "Using the future tense of a word of power relinquishes your control of it," her master exined. "We will perform one experiment, tomorrow. Out in the woods, with half a dozen guards to secure the area. Your idea about a ward using Cel is a good one, and one day it might save your life. I can¡¯t let your first time making the attempt be unsupervised. When you have it right, you can record it in your book. But no further experimentation with the future tense until you¡¯re at Coral Bay, or until I give you permission. Agreed?"


    Liv nodded. "Thank you," she said.


    ?


    They took the carriage, and the guards came with them on foot. Master Grenfell had expressly forbidden Emma and Matthew from apanying them: "The fewer people there, the less risk," the mage had grumbled before they¡¯d set out. He¡¯d also brought along half a dozen bags, which Liv presumed contained the powdered mana-stone.


    "I thought you said those were expensive," she said, when he handed her one. They¡¯d walked a good distance off into the woods, at the foot of Summit Mountain, leaving the carriage behind. The guards had fanned out in a wide circle, to turn away anyone who might happen to approach.


    "Baron Henry was saving these for the next eruption," Grenfell exined. "I convinced him that it was better you got practice now, before you have to do this in an emergency."


    It was awkward, with one arm in a sling, but Master Grenfell held Liv¡¯s staff for her while she surrounded the two of them in a ring of powder. It only used a quarter of the bag, because she¡¯d made it no more than a few paces across. After passing the rest of the bag back, Liv reimed her staff. Then, she tucked her skirts under her and sat on the ground, opening her spellbook in front of her. Then, Liv touched the top of her staff to the powder.


    "Cel¨¥vant Cwo Ferent Sceria," she said. Thorn-Killer¡¯s spell in all respects, save one: the word of power used. Light red down her staff, leapt to the powder, and set it aglow. It was a soft, dull radiance, like starlight, and would be hardly noticeable during the day.


    "What now?" Liv asked.


    "Now we wait," Master Grenfell said, sitting down.


    It was a squirrel, finally. Liv guessed that it must have taken a bell of sitting quietly before a creature felt brave enough to scamper past them. The moment the squirrel touched the circle, a sh of light erupted, and ice cracked across its fur. Even the poor thing¡¯s bushy tail was frozen, curved upright just as it had been held in the moment.


    Liv swallowed, then used her staff to break the circle, wiping away a portion of the dust. "That¡¯s a horrible way to die," she said.


    "And now you understand," Grenfell told her. Together, they got to their feet, gathered the guards, and set off back to Whitehill.


    When Liv stepped out of the carriage in the courtyard, Matthew was waiting for her with a bouquet of flowers.

 34. The Lady of Changes

    Warning: This Chapter touches on some of the realities of female adolescence. There¡¯s nothing graphic or sexual, but I thought people should have a heads up.


    Liv felt stupid, standing by the funeral pyre, lined up with all the others. Master Cushing had been looking older and more fragile for years now, but it had still taken her utterly by surprise when he¡¯d died in the night. The old chirurgeon was supposed to keep everyone else healthy: how could he be the one to go away first?


    Baron Henry was the only one seated: two of the castle guards had carried him over and set their lord in a chair before the funeral began. Lady Julianne stood at his left, and Matthew at his right. Matthew, Liv noticed, was nearly as tall as his mother, now. Master Grenfell stood with the family. Liv, on the other hand, had chosen to stand with her mother and Gretta.


    Osric Fletcher, the priest of the Trinity, rarely had cause to visit Castle Whitehill; normally, Baron Henry or Lady Julianne led the family and the servants in their prayers. For a death, however, only a priest would do.


    All morning, the men of the castle - a group which for the first time admitted Matthew to their work - had built the pyre. They kept plenty of dried firewood on hand in the wood-cer, and they¡¯d formed a line to pass it up and out into the courtyard. The footmen, the castle guards, and even Master Grenfell had all got their hands dirty.


    The women, in the meanwhile, had gathered herbs and flowers. "One thing no one likes to talk about," Gretta had told Liv, quietly. "The smell. A human body burning smells foul. Go get more of the dried sage." Once the men had built a frame of carefullyid wood, Liv helped stuff it with sage,vender, rosemary, rose petals, and chamomile. Archie poured a liberal helping ofmp oil over the whole thing.


    "Thest thing anyone wants is to struggle to light it," the first footman had told her, when he¡¯d noticed Liv watching. "Remember this when ites to be my turn. Get it done quick and proper, no mistakes." Liv had nodded, and walked back to the kitchen with him.


    "-for what is death, but another change?" Osric Fletcher asked the assembled, rousing Liv from her muddled thoughts. "After a life wracked by storms, a life of striving to live up to our potential, Sitia wees us into her arms. Like any other change, death is frightening - but ites to all of us. Remember, the Lady lends us strength. You who remain, send this man on his way with your love, and takefort in each other. Aldo Cushing, we give your body to the fire, so that your mortal blood may not feed the wicked. May your soul be free atst."


    When the priest stepped back, Kazimir Grenfell stepped forward. The mage knelt by the side of the pyre, extended his hand, and invoked the word of his family. Liv only rarely witnessed her teacher using ?ter, the word of fire, but today it lit the dry wood andmp oil immediately. Grenfell stood, bowed his head for a moment, and then backed away.


    Liv couldn¡¯t pull her eyes from Master Cushing¡¯s familiar profile, even as his features were picked out in silhouette against the rising mes. White spirals of smoke drifted up from the pyre: the sage had caught. "He¡¯s the first person I¡¯ve ever known who died," Liv said, and her mother pulled her into a hug.


    "He was a good man," Mama said, brushing at her eyes with her other hand. "Despite all his moaning andining, he was always there to help anyone who needed it."


    "Before his hip got so bad," Liv recalled, "he always used to take me into town. He had me practice on everyone¡¯s cuts and bruises."


    "And he was handsome when he was younger," Gretta said. "I remember the first day he came to the castle. Had all us girls giggling over him."


    Something sharp stabbed at Liv¡¯s heart. She would have rather not thought about the fact that Gretta and Master Cushing were near the same age. And Archibald wasn¡¯t much younger.


    The priest joined them in the great hall, after the pyre had burned low, for the funeral feast. That was tradition, too: it would have been ungrateful to send him on his way without thanking the man with a meal. Before dessert was served, Lady Julianne rose from her seat.


    "It will take at least a ten-day for the Order of Chirurgeons to send us a Court Chirurgeon," she said, raising her voice to address the entire assembly. "In Master Cushing¡¯s absence, I have asked Rhea, the midwife, toe up from Fairford and stay at the castle. She will be here to treat anyone who needs it until a chirurgeon arrives."


    Liv frowned at the thought of someone recing Master Cushing. He wasn¡¯t an old shield or a chipped te, to be discarded and never thought of again. At least the midwife was someone she¡¯d met before, though it had been a dozen years since the eruption. The footmen came out with the dessert tters, pulling her out of her thoughts.


    ?


    It was on the third night after the funeral that Liv woke up to a sore belly. She winced, curling around herself, and tried to go back to sleep. When that didn¡¯t seem like it was going to work, she groped across her bedside table for the candle she kept there.


    "Ghelet Legaem," Liv murmured, and the wick caught, casting a warm glow around her bedchamber. If she wasn¡¯t going to be able to sleep, perhaps she could get some spellwork done. She kicked her nkets aside and walked over to her desk, where she lit the oilmp with the candle. The sudden light pushed back the darkness of night, and Liv saw that her shift was stained with something dark, halfway between red and brown. She looked back to her bed, and saw a spot of darkness in the sheets, as well.


    "Blood and shadows," Liv cursed. Mama had warned her about this, and Emma had told her more. It was one more thing to worry about. She would have preferred it didn¡¯te in the middle of the night, while she was asleep, however. It was obvious no work was going to be done, now. Liv walked back over to the bed and pulled the rope, which would ring a bell down in the kitchen. She would have just gotten a washbowl and hot water herself, but she didn¡¯t want to creep around in the middle of the night in a stained shift. It seemed safer to stay in her room, even if that did mean disturbing someone else¡¯s sleep.


    By the time Joan had brought her hot water, rags to scrub with, and soap, Liv had bundled up the ruined sheets and stripped the mattress. There was a smell to it, when you got right up close, and it all made her feel dirty. She handed those and the stained shift out, in exchange for the washing things, and then closed and locked the door behind the maid. It was astounding she didn¡¯t fall over and die right then from the embarrassment. Then, she focused on getting herself cleaned up and dressed in clean clothes, before heading for Master Cushing¡¯s old rooms. Perhaps it was a good thing Lady Julianne had asked the midwife toe to the castle, after all.


    The morning sun was justing through the windows by the time Rhea of Fairford had finished examining Liv. "You¡¯re perfectly healthy," the old midwife assured her. "Nothing different than any other girl. Have some tea to settle your stomach; if you want to spend the day in bed, I¡¯ll tell everyone else you¡¯re not feeling well. They won¡¯t argue with me."


    "Are you certain, though?" Liv asked. She was perched on the examination table, wearing just her shift and stockings. "Have you ever examined one of the Eld before? Could there be something different?"


    "No, I¡¯ve never treated an Eldish woman," Rhea admitted, glowering at Liv. "And given your history, I can see why you¡¯d be afraid. But this is simple. So far as anything rted to babies goes, we all basically work the same way."


    "But how do you know that?" Liv pressed. Maybe she was being unreasonable, but then, everyone had assumed that she could just eat human food for the first half of her life, and look how that had turned out.


    "Because the old gods made both humans and Eld to be able to reproduce with themselves," Rhea said. "The fact we¡¯repatible with each other is an afterthought, but I suppose you should be thankful for it. Your mother teach you the Maiden¡¯s Charm, yet?" she asked.


    Liv shook her head.


    "Learn it," Rhea ordered her. "And use it. Lady Sitia gave it to us, and we¡¯re thankful. But even that is no guarantee."


    "I¡¯m not going to need that anytime soon," Liv said, her cheeks burning red. Even the tips of her ears were warm. She was going to college, and had no intention of ending up like her mother.


    "Learn it anyway."


    "I¡¯ll ask my friend," Liv promised. It would be less embarrassing to talk to Emma than Mama. That would only lead to another talk about avoiding boys.


    "Alright, then, off with you," Rhea ordered her. "Gods forbid someone actually needs my help, and you¡¯re stillzing about in here."


    ?


    Liv didn¡¯t spend the day in bed, though she was beginning to think that had been a mistake. She had gone to see Emma after breakfast, taking the carriage down to the Lower Banks to visit her friend. As she¡¯d thought, Emma was more than happy to teach Liv the Maiden¡¯s Charm.


    The little girl that Liv had saved from drowning in the river was seventeen, now, and nearly as skilled a hunter as her father. She¡¯d also be a dark-haired beauty who wore men¡¯s buckskin hunting trousers, scandalizing all the old women of Whitehill. Liv tried not to think about the fact that her friend was not only taller than her, but looked so much older than her, as well.


    Master Forester had served them two tes of sausages, once the girls had emerged from Emma¡¯s room, and the morning had quickly gotten away from them. By the time Liv had gotten back to the castle, it wasing up on time for her afternoon lessons with Matthew and Master Grenfell.


    Matthew preferred working in themon room of the Old Oak to the master mage¡¯s chambers, and so the asional treat had turned into their regr meeting ce. Liv spent as much time helping the young lord with his V?dic as she did working on her own spells, while Master Grenfell enjoyed a ss of brandy.


    "It¡¯s good for you," the older mage insisted. "Teaching something helps you to truly master it."


    Liv figured that meant she would be practically an archmage by the time they were done, because as talented as Matthew was with a sword, he was a nightmare at grammar.


    "No, you need to ount for the gender of the noun," Liv reminded him, for what must have been the fifth time.


    "It doesn¡¯t even make sense," Matthewined. "Why is a sword male, while water is female? I understand when ites to animals, they breed just like we do," he said. "But there¡¯s no baby swords running around after their mothers."


    "That¡¯s just how it works," Liv told him. "I didn¡¯t make this up, the old gods did. It must have made sense to them."


    "If they weren¡¯t already dead, I¡¯d kill them again just for having such a stupidnguage," Matthew grumbled. Then, he leaned forward and lowered his voice, keeping one eye on where Master Grenfell stood at the bar. "James told me there¡¯s a travelling storyteller at the Sign of the Terrapin, or at least there wasst night. We should go tonight."


    Liv checked on their teacher: he was waiting for the innkeeper to open the bottle of brandy and pour. "Your mother will string you up by your toenails if you get caught. And there¡¯s no way you won¡¯t get caught - it¡¯s too far away."


    "Just at the south pass," Matthew said, dismissing her worries. "It¡¯s not far past Fairford. We can get there easily enough on Boulder."


    "I still can¡¯t believe that¡¯s the name you chose for your horse," Liv teased him. "I don¡¯t have a horse, though, Matthew."


    He shrugged. "Ride in front of me. Come on, it¡¯ll be an adventure."


    "The trouble with you is that you¡¯ve never had a real adventure," Liv said. "Try having a stone-bat or two fly at your face, and see how fun you think it is."


    "There won¡¯t be any stone-bats," Matthew said. "We¡¯re going south, not north. And father says there won¡¯t be another eruption for at least ten years."


    "If I don¡¯t go with you, you¡¯re just going to do it alone, aren¡¯t you," Liv guessed. Matthew answered her question with a cocky grin. "Fine," she said. "Now back to your nouns. He¡¯sing back with his brandy."


    ?


    After the evening meal, that night, Liv didn¡¯t go to sleep with the rest of the castle. Instead, she waited until the tenth bell, fetched the lighter of her two cloaks from the clothes chest in her room, and then spent a moment considering her staff. Matthew was right; they were riding away from the rift, down a well kept road.


    Though she¡¯d never actually been there, Liv knew that the Sign of the Terrapin was located in the southern pass that led out of the Aspen River Valley. The castle guards went there sometimes, when they were feeling adventurous or bored with the usual three inns. Merchants stayed there, as well, on their way into the valley, and Liv had never heard any of them say that it was dangerous.


    Plus, it was a pain to hold the staff while she was riding double with Matthew. She¡¯d gotten riding lessons with him: the past few years, Lady Julianne must have decided it was easier to just have them both taught the same things. But while Matthew had been given a young warhorse for his twelfth birthday, Liv took her lessons on Lady Julianne¡¯s palfrey, and there was no way she was going to steal Snowke for the night.


    Her decision made, Liv leaned the staff in the corner of her room, adjusted her cloak, and slipped out of her room. She met Matthew in the stables, where he already had Boulder saddled. He¡¯d even wrapped the horse¡¯s hooves in rags, to muffle the sound of his iron shoes striking cobblestones. She also noticed he was wearing an arming sword at his belt.


    "Here," he said, cupping his hands together and offering Liv a ce to put her boot. She put a hand on his shoulder and one on the saddle, pushed herself up with her left leg, and got herself settled. Lady Julianne had taught her to ride sidesaddle, and Liv managed to get her skirt arranged so that it didn¡¯t show her ankles. Then, Matthew mbered up behind her, and they were off.


    He must have arranged with one of the guards for the castle gates to be open, but the gate out of the Lower Banks was a different matter. The town guards stopped them, and Liv found herself being peered at bymplight.


    "I can¡¯t let you out of town at night, m¡¯lord," the guard said. His whiskers were trimmed so that they stuck out of his cheeks like a bush, but his chin was shaved clean.


    "We¡¯re just taking in a bit of fresh air," Matthew said, slipping a silver coin to the guard. "The ring is beautiful tonight, isn¡¯t it? We¡¯ll be back in a bell."


    The whiskered guard scowled, but pocketed the coin. "Don¡¯t get yourselves lost out there," he said, and stomped over to the winch. As the men cranked the gate halfway open, Liv saw one of them elbow another, nod in her direction, and say something. The second guardughed, and she pulled her hood up to cover her face.


    Once they were through the gate, Matthew urged Boulder to a canter. Though it was not yet harvest time, the nights had begun to cool, and Liv was grateful she could lean into her friend¡¯s body for warmth.


    "You alright in there?" Matthew asked her, as Boulder took them south, his hooves eating up the road.


    "Just a little chilly," Liv admitted.


    "There¡¯ll be a warm fire at the inn," Matthew said. But he also wrapped an arm around her, holding the reins in just his right hand. A few years ago, it might have frightened her; but he was undeniably a good horseman, now.


    In fact, Liv felt quite safe. And the ring was pretty, like the guard had said. She looked up at the stars and the moon, and the great shining line that split the sky in half. Away from the lights of Whitehill, everything seemed brighter.


    At Fairford, Boulder thumped over the bridge without any interruption, and then they were away south on an open road under the starry sky. "This is the furthest from home I¡¯ve ever been," Liv admitted.


    "Me too," Matthew said, and she could imagine his grin even if she couldn¡¯t see it. He was fearless, and always had been, from the time he¡¯d been a baby. The ride lulled her half to sleep, until Boulder¡¯s gait changed.


    Liv stirred within Matthew¡¯s arms, and opened her eyes as the horse came to halt. The building was three stories, built in the shape of a square with one side missing. The missing side faced the road, and was filled by a cobblestone courtyard. Light spilled out from the paned windows of themon room, along with voices and fragments of music. Over the door hung a painted wooden sign with a turtle on it.


    Matthew helped Liv down, and she waited while he tied Boulder up at the post. Then, like the gentleman his mother had trained him to be, he opened the door for her, and Liv stepped into the Sign of the Terrapin.

 35. The Sign of the Terrapin

    A st of night wind caught Liv¡¯s skirts and cloak as she stepped past Matthew and through the open door. A tendril of white hair spilled out of her hood and into the light, and she reached up to tuck it back behind her ear. The great open hearth at one end of themon room at the Sign of the Terrapin lit the entire space in a warm glow: the heat immediately warmed her hands and her face. Then, Matthew was inside as well, and pulled the door closed behind them.


    The chamber was wide, and a low ceiling with exposed beams meant that a very tall man might need to duck his head. For someone as small as Liv, of course it was no problem, but she hesitated all the same as every eye in the ce turned to fix on them. Or was it, perhaps, on her?


    Liv was instantly aware that she was the only girl in the room. At the bar, a tall man with short-cropped gray hair and a pair of spectacles perched on his nose leaned forward on both elbows. The near table was upied by a weather-beaten man wearing a great coat and boots, with a glittering golden ring in his left ear. A far table, facing the entrance, had been taken by a man who kept the back of his chair to the wall. He wore a jack of te and a rapier, though the armor was not in the green and white colors of Baron Henry¡¯s guards. Instead, the man¡¯s jack was green with purple ents and brightly polished brass fastenings that gleamed so that they almost looked gold in the firelight. He had a scar on his face that turned the corner of his mouth down, so that he looked to be perpetually scowling.


    Finally, seated on a stool in front of the hearth, was a man who looked to be the oldest of all those present. His mane and beard were shaggy white, though his forehead was high and gleaming due to a receding hairline. In his arms, he cradled something like a lute, though shaped oddly. The storyteller plucked a single string, breaking the silence, and the attention of the room returned to him.


    "What¡¯ll you have?" the man at the bar asked.


    "Ale for me, and wine for thedy," Matthew answered. He counted a score of copper coins out of his purse, and set them on the bar. Once they had their drinks, he led Liv over to an empty table, where he pulled a chair out for her.


    "Lady, is it?" Liv teased him, taking a sip of her wine. It wasn¡¯t local to the valley: the innkeep must have bought it from guild tradersing through the pass.


    "For one night, at least," Matthew joked right back. "Jokester, I want to hear."


    And indeed, the storyteller at the fire seemed about to make a beginning. "Inspiration, move me brightly," he said, and his voice was that of a singer. It filled themon-room easily, aged and mellow like the scent of the baron¡¯s old liquor. "A tale of the first days, I think, in the first age of the world. Before the falling star that devastated the west. Before the war, even, when the great wolves and bats and the nking soldiers of Antris marched in rank upon rank. A tale that begins at the house of Sivis, V?dic Lord of Storms."


    Liv settled back into her chair, keeping her cloak wrapped tightly around her, with her cup of wine clutched in both hands, and listened. It reminded her of the stories Gretta used to tell her before bed, when she¡¯d clutched a rag-doll in her arms by candlelight.


    "The Eld were not the first race to walk this world, though they are older than us," the storyteller continued, strumming soft notes as he spoke. Liv thought that his eyes flicked in her direction, and she sunk lower in her chair. "The old gods, who as far surpassed the Eld as the Eld do men, shaped the first age of the world. When they found the ancient, primitive people of the two races, the V?dim enved us, and made our ancestors their servants. They changed the Eld with their magic, to make our older brothers and sisters pleasing to their eyes, and took them as concubines, or as entertainers, to fill the air with songs of wonderment and sorrow."


    Concubines. Liv thought back to the words of the Elden merchant, Airis Ka Reimis, about the aunt she¡¯d never known. "She died in the depths of the Tomb of Celris, where the Vaedic Lord of Winter perished. Your great-grandfather. It is his power that sings in your veins. That is the other reason I knew who you must be - no one but a child with the blood of the old gods could stumble upon a word of power without training." Concubine was a fancy word for whore, Liv knew. She doubted her ancestors had received much in the way of a choice about bearing the children of a god.


    "Humans, weak and fragile, doomed to short lives, were the lowest of the low," the storyteller went on. "Our forefathers were field hands, miners, fishers, andborers who earned their bread with sweat and pain. One of these ves was a human woman named Miriam. Half human, at least, for her own mother was the most favored concubine of the Lord of Storms."


    "But when Sivis learned that his toy was with child, he grew angry, andmanded his Elden seneschal to kill the babe at birth. The seneschal presented Sivis with a dead infant, sure enough; however, he spirited Miriam herself away to the house of Tamiris, Lord of Potential. Miriam¡¯s V?dic blood fascinated the god; he was curious to see whether a halfbreed would be able to learn things other humans could not."


    "Miriam was not raised as a ve. She was educated by Tamiris as if she was his own daughter, and in time he grew to love her as if she had been his flesh and blood. Furthermore, she fulfilled all his hopes: from an early age, she disyedmand of her father¡¯s word of power. She could summon a wind or a fog; she could conceal herself in a cloak of mist; she could float up like a feather, call lightning on a clear day, or bring rain down from the sky to drench a parched field."


    Despite herself, Liv set her goblet on the table and leaned forward. She sounds like me, Liv thought. Had this woman, dead so long ago, felt a storm at the back of her mind, always struggling to break free?


    The storyteller took a sip from his own goblet, then continued. "But as she grew, Miriam¡¯s heart began to break from guilt and sorrow. For while she lived a life of ease in the house of Tamiris, she saw her fellow men and women working in his fields. She began to leave her foster father¡¯s house in the evenings and visit the workers of the fields, using her many words of power to heal their cuts and bruises, and to soothe their muscles."


    The door to themon room banged open again, and a group of half a dozen men,ughing and chatting, walked in together. They called out to the innkeeper for ale, and settled around thergest table. Liv frowned, trying not to show her annoyance. She wanted to hear the rest of the story.


    "Eventually, Miriam¡¯s foster father discovered what she was doing, and called her into his garden. "Why do you creep about in the night, concealing your activities from me, your father?" he asked her. Miriam answered that her heart wept for the ves in the fields, who she knew were her kin, and begged her father¡¯s mercy. She asked him why the V?dim must keep men as ves, and argued passionately with him long into the night. As the sky grew bright with dawn, Tamiris forbid her from visiting the fields any further."


    "Sounds like fathers are all the same, even when they¡¯re gods," Matthewmented at Liv¡¯s side, but she shushed him.


    "As soon as her adopted father had left her presence, Miriam fled Tamiris¡¯ house. She wandered Varuna of old, walking from one field to the next, visiting the ves in their hovels and tending their injuries, or soothing the women in childbirth. She did not confine her aid to men alone, but did her best even to help the Eld, who lived lives of ease in the houses of their masters."


    "Knife-eared cunts," one of the new arrivals shouted. He was fat around the middle, and red-faced, with dark brows and beard. From the slurring of the man¡¯s voice, Liv guessed he¡¯d been drinking even before his arrival.


    Liv leaned over so that she could murmur in Matthew¡¯s ear. "Maybe we should leave," she suggested.


    "As soon as the story¡¯s over," he said. Liv didn¡¯t like it, but she settled back in to listen.


    "After three years of wandering, Miriam returned to the house of Sivis, her father, though she knew him not," the storyteller continued. "There, she saw that the fields were particrly green, and the skies particrly pleasant. She was surprised to find that the ves seemed to recognize her. When she asked them why they looked at her so, they turned away silent and fearful; but one man stepped forward and spoke up. ¡¯You have the face,¡¯ he said, ¡¯of a woman we recognize from many years ago. She was Lord Sivis¡¯ concubine, and she gave birth to his daughter. When he had the baby killed by his seneschal, she threw herself from a high sea cliff onto the rocks below. Lord Sivis left her body there for three days and three nights, and then we secretly took her and buried her."


    "Miriam found the Elden seneschal while he was inspecting the fields, and revealed herself to him; and when his face grew pale, she knew the truth for certain. She turned and walked to the house of Sivis, and the skies grew dark. As she came within ten paces of the gate, a bolt of lightning struck the way clear before her."


    "She found Sivis in his chambers, upied with his concubines. Who can say for certain whether he knew the truth when he saw her countenance? Whatever he thought, he was quick to defend himself. Within moments, the house of Sivis was in mes as father and daughter called lighting and fire from the skies above, throwing violent storms at each other. The walls cracked and tumbled, the fields burned, and the ves cowered in fear."


    "As the battle raged, however, it became clear that Miriam could not match her father¡¯s power. Though he was sorely wounded, still he smote about her with lightnings and fires, and she fell to the ground burned and bloody, too weak to move."


    The jangling chords of music died away, leaving only the storyteller¡¯s voice, and the asional clink of a goblet on one of the wooden tables. "Lord Sivis approached and stood over her, and raised his hand to strike down his own daughter. As he did, a single ve - the same man who had been brave enough to tell Miriam the truth - thrust a scythe through the god¡¯s back. Sivis staggered, and before her eyes closed, Miriam called lightning one final time from the storm above."


    "When she woke, tended by the same seneschal who had spirited her away so many years before, Lord Sivis was dead. In the days that followed, word of Miriam¡¯s act spread, and ves fled the homes of their masters toe to her. Though she had acted only in a moment of rage, she became a symbol of hope to her people, and found herself the center of a rebellion."


    The storyteller set his instrument aside. "And with that, my cup is empty," he remarked, rising to make his way over to the bar.


    "Now, we should go," Liv said. She was relieved when Matthew did not argue. The two of them stood, pushed their chairs back in, and picked their way over to the door.


    "That story was shit," one of the drunken menined. "Tell us something about a nice set of tits." Hispanions roared withughter, and banged their table with their goblets.


    Matthew yanked the door open, and another gust of wind blew past him. This time, it caught Liv from the front, instead of from behind, and tore her hood backpletely, revealing her face. Her white hair danced in the firelight, showing her ears for the entire room to see.


    "What the fuck is this," the dark haired man who¡¯d shouted out earlier called. "A knife-eared bitch right here with us the entire time. The fuck are you doing this far south?"


    "That¡¯s no way to speak to ady," Matthew called back. "You¡¯re drunk, and we¡¯re leaving. Good evening, all of you. Thank you for the story."


    "You think you¡¯re some sort of little lord, do you?" The dark bearded man stood, knocking his chair over. "Think you¡¯re better than us, running around with your Eldish whore?"


    "I don¡¯t think I¡¯m better than you," Matthew shot back, disgust dripping from his voice. "I know I am."


    The rest of the table threw their chairs aside, and lumbered to their feet. Liv caught at Matthew¡¯s arm, trying to pull him out the door.


    "I don¡¯t want trouble, you hear?" the innkeeper shouted, but the men ignored him.


    "Knife ear slut," the dark bearded man ranted, shoving tables and chairs out of his path on the way over to Liv and Matthew. "I¡¯ll teach you toe around decent people. I¡¯ll trim your tips for you, then you¡¯ll look just like everyone else." He drew a dagger from his belt.


    Liv¡¯s hand clenched around a staff that wasn¡¯t there, and she silently cursed herself as an idiot for leaving the thing behind. She counted five men. Without the staff to focus her mana, she knew that she¡¯d waste a lot of magic. Better one big spell, then, she decided. To take out as many as she could. But she didn¡¯t want to kill any of the men, she just wanted time to get away. Perhaps an Icewall over the door. Her eyes flicked from side to side: no, they¡¯d just go out the windows.


    Matthew stepped between her and the approaching men, and pulled his arming sword.


    "Put that away before you hurt yourself, boy," one of the drunks told him with a grin.


    "Aye, we¡¯re just gonna teach the northern girl a little lesson," the man with the ck beard said. Their eyes were cruel, and the stink of alcohol wafted off them. Liv would have preferred to face another stonebat.


    "I won¡¯t let you," Matthew said, and raised his sword. Liv at once felt terrified for him, but also a warm flushing up from her belly to her neck. Had anyone in the entire world ever stood up to protect her before? Master Jurian, in a way.


    For a long moment, the entire scene seemed to be frozen. The world waited to see whether the men would back down, or press forward.


    "Get ¡¯em," the man with the ck brows and beard growled. The drunks charged, and Matthew shed with his de. The foremost of the men cried out, and a spatter of blood flew through the air to stick on the wall next to the bar.


    "Celent¡¯he Aiveh Encve Stelim Kapium!" Liv shouted, raising her hand to point at the men. The men were surging toward her, and without Matthew in their way she could never have gotten through the words in time. A small part of her noted that, and put the problem aside as one to be considered on another day.


    Five grasping pirs of ice ripped their way up through the floorboards of themon room, surrounding two of the men and squeezing them tight. They screamed in pain, dropping their daggers as they struggled to free themselves. One of the men stumbled back toward the bar, eyes wide in fear. Five rings of mana. Liv knew she would be able to cast one more spell for certain, two at most. She would have to thank Master Grenfell for all the time they¡¯d spent measuring and recording, over and over again, every bit of information on her magic.


    "I¡¯ll kill you for this, boy," the man with the dark brows slurred. He had Matthew by the arm now, and was looming over both of them like a monstrous bear.


    "That¡¯s more than enough," a cold voice broke across the room. The soldier who¡¯d been sitting across the room appeared behind the drunk man, and punched the back of his head with the pommel of his rapier. The big man dropped instantly, as if his legs had suddenly lost all their bones.


    Liv looked around for the fifth attacker, hand raised, ready to cast another spell. However, the drunk was jacked up against the wall of the room, arm twisted behind his back, by the man in the long coat.


    "Thank you," Matthew said, lowering his de. "Thank you both."


    "Well, I¡¯m not fool enough to fight an Eldish witch," the soldier muttered. "Nor to watch murder done in the duke¡¯snds."


    "Baron Henry¡¯snds," Matthew corrected him.


    "Aye," the soldier said. "You¡¯re his boy then, aren¡¯t you? Just my luck. Help me tie them up,d. The sheriff will want to be called for this."


    Liv pulled the door closed, to shut out the night wind. It appeared that all chance of them sneaking back into the castle unnoticed was lost.

 36. The Burning Sky

    "Sir Robert Talbot, in service to Duke Thomas," the scarred soldier introduced himself. He didn¡¯t pause in saddling his horse, giving the bay gelding a sharp elbow to its stomach so that he could tighten the girth strap. "And this vagrant is Coram Athearn."


    "Captain Athearn," the weather-beaten sailor grumbled, checking the saddle on his own horse, an old gray mare.


    "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Sir Robert," Matthew said. He¡¯d already helped Liv up into Boulder¡¯s saddle, but he hadn¡¯t joined her yet. Instead, she noticed that he kept one eye on the five drunks who had been tied to the saddles of the three horses. He¡¯d also ced his hand on the hilt of his arming sword.


    "We should¡¯ve met years ago," Talbot said, putting on foot in his stirrup and swinging easily up into the saddle. "But your father hasn¡¯t left Whitehill in years."


    "Baron Henry was crippled in thest eruption," Liv protested. "It would be too difficult for him to travel."


    "A crippled lord, then?" Athearn, the seaman, awkwardly struggled to get ahorse. It was clear the man was not used to riding, even to Liv¡¯s eye. "That¡¯s the best you can do for me, Bobby?"


    "Baron Henry¡¯s gold is as good as anyone else¡¯s," Talbot replied. "And you¡¯re not in much of a position to be picky, Athearn."


    Matthew was thest to mount up, settling onto his saddle behind Liv. She found herself acutely aware of how riding the same horse pressed them together, but there was nothing to be done for it, unless she wanted to walk the entire way back to Whitehill. "You two clearly know each other," hemented. "And yet, you weren¡¯t sitting together."


    "I¡¯ve been ordered to escort Master Athearn to Whitehill and back," Talbot exined. "But after ten days on the road, I¡¯m sick of his snoring and his tall-tales."


    "He¡¯s a miserable old sot," Athearn said. "Snores worse than I do, and what¡¯s worse, he doesn¡¯t believe mermaids are real."


    "Are they?" Liv asked, leaning forward.


    "Are they ever!" Athearn pped his leg. "Youngdy, let me tell you about the time I washed ashore on an ind off the coast of Lendh ka Dakruim. There¡¯d been a storm, you see, and-"


    "By the gods old and new, now you¡¯ve got him started," Talbotined. "Come on then. If we¡¯re going to be riding all night, best be off." He nudged his gelding toward the road, forcing the bound drunks to stumble along in his wake.


    The ride back north to Whitehill took much longer because they kept the horses to a walk. Despite Coram Athearn¡¯s rambling stories, Liv wasn¡¯t used to staying awake sote. She wasn¡¯t certain exactly when she¡¯d nodded off, but it wasn¡¯t until they¡¯d stopped at the town gates that she woke again.


    "Gates don¡¯t open until dawn!" a guard shouted down from the parapet.


    "The sky¡¯s already turning red," Matthew called back. "We have criminals who need to be locked up, and guests expected at the castle. Open the gates already. Unless you want to tell my father why you made us wait half a bell out here."


    That got them moving, and the new sheriff, a wiry man named Fane, was more than happy to take five drunks off their hands. By the time the four riders made their way up from the Lower Banks, past the market square, and then through the Hill to the castle, dawn was breaking.


    "There you two are," Piers said, shaking his head. "Your mother found you missing this morning she went in to wake you, Lord Matthew, and the whole castle is in an uproar." He leveled a look at Liv that made her turn away, but moved on without addressing her. "Who¡¯re these two?"


    "This is Sir Robert Talbot, in service to the Duke of Cound, Thomas Falkenrath," Matthew introduced the soldier. "Escorting one Master Coram Athearn, who I am to understand has business with my father. They were staying at the Sign of the Terrapin, where we made their acquaintance."


    "You rode all the way to the south pass?" Piers eximed. "You¡¯d all better get into the great hall. The footmen are serving already, not that anyone¡¯s in much of a mood to enjoy it. Let us take your horses."


    Liv itched to run to her room and get her staff, but she couldn¡¯t see a way to duck aside. Not only would she be leaving Matthew alone for the scolding that wasing, she knew that it wouldn¡¯t help one bit. Better to face Baron Henry and Lady Julianne all at once, together, she decided.


    When they walked through the open doors into the great hall, Liv saw just how seriously their disappearance had been taken. There hadn¡¯t been so many armed men filling themselves with food at the low tables since the eruption. It looked like Baron Henry had called every one of his knights in the city, along with their men, in anticipation of a search.


    "Matthew!" Lady Julianne cried, rising from her chair. "Where in the world have you been?"


    "My apologies, Mother, Father," Matthew said, stopping in front of the high table to bow. Liv curtsied, lowering her eyes to the floor of the hall and doing her best not to draw any more attention than she had to. "We ran into some unexpected guests, who havee from Cound. Please permit me to introduce Sir Robert Talbot, in service to the duke, and Master Coram Athearn, a seaman he was tasked to escort to Whitehill."


    "The fact that you¡¯ve brought guests," Baron Henry said, "will be dealt with momentarily. Sir Talbot and Master Athearn, you are wee here, and I will speak with you in good time. I trust you will forgive me for dealing with my wayward son, first."


    "Of course, m¡¯lord," Talbot said, inclining his head. "For what it¡¯s worth, the boy¡¯s got courage."


    "Is that so?" Henry Summerset narrowed his eyes, turning to address his son. "And when, pray tell, would you have demonstrated courage in escorting two guests to the castle?"


    "I wanted to hear the storyteller at the Sign of the Terrapin," Matthew said, keeping his head held high. "Just as we were leaving the innst night, a table of drunks started trouble. These two gentlemen helped deal with the problem, and we have juste from delivering the men to Sheriff Fane."


    "Men assaulted you?" Lady Julianne asked.


    "They took exception to the youngdy," Coram Athearn broke in. "Said something about trimming her ears. Your boy stood up to them, bold as you please, de in hand."


    "Defending ady under your care would bemendable," Baron Henry said, "if it had not been you who put her in the path of danger in the first ce. I cannot imagine it was Apprentice Brodbeck¡¯s idea to ride to the south pass in the middle of the night. Was it?" He turned to Liv, and she couldn¡¯t fight the urge to hunch her shoulders under the man¡¯s gaze. For all that the eruption and the years had not been kind to him, he was still terrifying when he wanted to be.


    "No, m¡¯lord," Liv admitted. "I should havee to you, though, or to Lady Julianne, and told you."


    "You should have," Julianne said. "This was foolish, reckless, and dangerous. All things I havee to expect from my son, but not from you."


    "What is more reckless still," Master Grenfell broke in from beside her, "is that I do not see your staff in your hand. When these men came for you, Apprentice, you left yourself unprepared."


    "She still did for two of them," Master Athearn said. "Wrapped ¡¯em up neat in ice. Seen a few words used, in my time, but not that one."


    "Nor would you have," Grenfell said. "I am somewhat reassured, Apprentice, that you defended yourself. I would expect nothing less."


    "Both of you will go to your respective rooms immediately," Lady Julianne said. "While we decide the precise nature of your punishments. Sir Talbot, Master Athearn, you have our gratitude for bringing our lost sheep home. Come and join us at the high table, and break your fast."


    Liv followed Matthew out to the hall, and from there up the stairs to the second floor, where both their rooms were located. "I¡¯m sorry you got caught up in this, Liv," Matthew said, pausing at his own door. "I¡¯ll tell my mother it was all my fault, and see if I can get you out of it."


    "No," she said. "I went with you. I should have known better."


    "The story was good though, right?" he asked her, with a grin.


    "It was a nice night, until it wasn¡¯t." With a sigh, she left him there and slipped into her own chambers. There, she paused to run her fingers over her staff, where it leaned uselessly in the corner. That was not a mistake she would be making again. Then, she went over to her desk, where she opened her spellbook.


    "Five men," Liv mumbled. If it hadn¡¯t been for the assistance of Sir Talbot and Master Ahearn, would they have still won? Would Matthew have been hurt, or killed? Would she? The words of the drunken men echoed through her mind, and what they¡¯d threatened to do to her ears. It was all well and good to have help, but she didn¡¯t want to depend on it.


    Uncorking her inkpot, Liv went to work.


    ?


    For an entire month after their ill-fated adventure, Liv and Matthew were given all of the foulest tasks Lady Julianne could think of. It¡¯d been years since she¡¯d had to scrub chamber pots or dirty dishes in the scullery, but now they did it together. The stables needed mucking out, of course, and then there was theundry, washed in great wooden basins with lye.


    Nor were they permitted to neglect their usual lessons, which meant they had to rise early every day and workte into the night, after the rest of the castle had gone to sleep. Liv¡¯s hands were red and raw for the first time since she was a child, and Matthew found the callouses he¡¯d formed working with practice swords in the courtyard did not prepare him for the misery ofmonbor.


    They both knew it would only get worse if theyined, however, so they set their backs to each and every task put before them. "All of this makes our lessons seem like a rest," Matthew remarked, panting, after he¡¯d finished hauling the cleanundry in from the courtyard to be sorted and folded.


    It was true: the only time Liv had to ease her aching hands was when their minds were upied. "I need to be able to deal with more people at once," she told Master Grenfell one afternoon. They were working in his chamber again, with a desk each set out for her and Matthew. The trips to the Old Oak had been halted, as part of their punishment.


    "You got two of them," Matthew pointed out. "That was more than anyone else dealt with."


    "But if you all hadn¡¯t been there, what would I have done?" Liv asked. "Grasping Ice is good for one or two people, but it¡¯s not meant for so many. What if I just froze all of their feet to the ground? Like an Icewall, but on its side instead of upright?"


    "If all you¡¯re looking for is time to get away, that could be very useful," Master Grenfell conceded. "It won¡¯t stop anyone with a crossbow from trying to kill you, but having the correct instrument for a particr problem can be an effective way to protect yourself."


    "At least you can make your magic work," Matthewined.


    "You need to memorize the conjugations of Ters," Grenfell told him sharply. "Liv, why don¡¯t you experiment with Vradim - roots of ice might do what you need."


    Master Athearn stayed for an entire ten-day, during which word made its way around the castle that his aim was to secure financial backing to purchase a ship. "Apparently he lost thest one off the coast of Varuna," Gretta told the entire table of servants over dinner. Liv and Matthew were scrubbing in the scullery, which at least made it easy to overhear the gossip. "I wouldn¡¯t trust money to a man who¡¯s already lost one ship," the old woman said.


    "The baron will act with prudence, I am certain," Archibald told her.


    "I¡¯d do it if I had the money," Edward, the second footman, dered. "Put up the coin once, and you get a portion of what he makes from then on, without having to do a day¡¯s work ever again."


    Baron Henry must have agreed with Edward, because Master Athearn left with not only thepany of Sir Talbot, but a contract witnessed by the Banking Guild. With the visitors gone, and their long punishment finallypleted, the infamy of Liv and Matthew¡¯s nighttime adventure was gradually forgotten. Unfortunately, not every change that sprang from that evening was so transitory.


    "Alright," Emma Forester said, that summer, as the two girls skinned a brace of conies. "You need to tell me what happened that night. You haven¡¯t been able to look at Matthew without blushing ever since. You¡¯re like a tomato or something."


    Liv shot her the fiercest re she could. "Did you ask your father to stay home today just so you could corner me?"


    "Smart girl," Emma said, with a grin. "Now answer the question."


    "Nothing happened," Liv said, ripping off thest of the fur from the hare she was working on. "We listened to the story, had a drink, and then tried to leave."


    "At which point a bunch of drunks came after you," Emma said.


    "Right."


    "So you rode all the way from Whitehill to the south pass on a single horse, under the stars," Emma said. "Then sat together drinking at an inn, listening to a story. And when those horrible men said mean things about you, Matthew drew his sword and protected you. You know what this sounds like, don¡¯t you? You¡¯re lucky you came back with a few witnesses."


    "I also fell asleep on the ride back," Liv admitted.


    "...in his arms?" Emma asked.


    "Not like that. But he didn¡¯t let me fall out of the saddle, either," Liv said.


    "If you were a nobledy, they¡¯d already have the two of you married," Emma remarked. "To avoid a scandal."


    "But I¡¯m not," Liv pointed out. "And he¡¯s half my age. I took care of him when he was a baby, Emma."


    Her friend¡¯s smile faded. "Liv," Emma said. "You¡¯re in a tough spot. I didn¡¯t understand when I was little, but I can see it now. Maybe better than you can. He¡¯s half your age, but it doesn¡¯t look like that. Blood and shadows, you¡¯re older than me, but if we went to an inn right now they¡¯d think you were my little sister. You know in a few years, he¡¯s going to look older than you, right?"


    "I know it," Liv said. "Let¡¯s get back, then."


    Knowing something in your mind, however, didn¡¯t seem to have a whole lot to do with knowing it in your heart. Perhaps if they hadn¡¯t been together so often, Liv reflected, after a particrly strenuous sparring match in the courtyard the following spring. They¡¯d continued working with swords at half speed, for her own safety.


    Every time Matthew wrestled her to the ground, or wrapped his arms around her to pratice a disarming technique, she could only hope that no one noticed her cheeks burning. Half the reason she worked so hard to master riding was so that she didn¡¯t end up sharing a saddle with him again.


    And as the years went by, it only got worse. At twelve, Matthew had been an exuberant, smiling boy. At fifteen, he was putting on muscle from his daily exercise, shaving the scruff from his chin, and taller than her. By the time he was eighteen years old, every girl in town followed him around on market days, giggling.


    Liv, in the meanwhile, found herself in the role of his adoptive sister. And not even an older sister, any longer. At thirty years old, she was increasingly exasperated to see that she looked no more than half that age. The girls that trailed Matthew in the market, for all they had no chance of winning his affections, at least didn¡¯t look like children.


    Worst of all, as the harvest neared its end, was the knowledge that hovered over everything she did: as soon as all the crops were in, Matthew would be leaving for Coral Bay, while she stayed behind.


    It was that particr problem that she was mulling over at The Laughing Carp, halfway through a goblet of watered wine, while Matthew danced with a girl named Mary. Or was it Maude? Liv couldn¡¯t keep them straight. Master Grenfell had downright refused to let her go to college with him, no matter how much she argued.


    They were in the Lower Banks because the Old Oak had be too boring for Matthew¡¯s tastes, and it was a busy night. Whether because of the crowd or her own troubles, Liv was thest to notice the musicians had stopped ying, and that everyone in themon room was gathering at the windows. "What is it?" Liv called, scooping up her staff and pushing her way through the crowd to Matthew¡¯s side.


    "Look at the sky," he said.


    Liv looked. Rather than a brilliant blue, the horizon glowed the orange and red of a banked fire, while above, the entire sky was painted in burning shades of purple and pink. "I¡¯ve never seen a sunset like that before," she said.


    From the bar, the sound of shattering ss was heard. Liv had time to think that someone must have dropped something, before the horror began.

 37. The Laughing Carp

    "It¡¯s alright," the innkeeper, Giles, said. Liv had turned at the sound of ss breaking, and now she saw him reaching for a cloth to wrap his hand. "Just a small cut."


    Drops of blood lifted off his skin, spinning around each other as they rose through the air. Then, they merged together into a dark, liquid blob, which hovered over the bar. "What in the name of the trinity," someone in the crowd near Liv eximed. The gathered blood somehow turned toward them, looking for all the world like a disembodied eye, rolling in an invisible socket as it searched the room. All the while, more drops of blood flew up from the open cut on Giles¡¯ hand, joining the blob with soft smacking sounds upon impact.


    "Magic," Giles gasped, his face pale.


    The orb of blood shot downward to the bar, where it scooped up the shattered pieces of ss from the wine bottle that the innkeeper had broken. Then, it thinned into a kind ofsh, swiped across the man¡¯s neck, and opened the flesh beneath his chin from ear to ear using the sharp, broken edges. Giles tried to say something, then choked as a cascade of blood poured out of his opened neck and soaked his shirt and vest.


    Around Liv, the crowd that had been dancing and drinking moments before screamed. Some of them ran for the door, and others to the back of themon room, but Matthew drew his sword. In the years since their adventure to the Sign of the Terrapin, he¡¯d taken to carrying a rapier instead of the broader arming sword he¡¯d worn that night.


    Liv didn¡¯t see how a sword was going to do much good against whatever was happening, so she stepped between the bar and the remaining customers. The position of the orb meant they would have to get by the growing mass of blood to get to the door. With every spurt from Giles¡¯ neck, the blood flew through the air up into the shivering orb, which pulsed and swelled.


    "Get behind me," Liv told the panicked people. She lifted her staff, gripped it in both hands, and got to work. She¡¯d known an eruption woulde, sooner orter: and this time she was old enough not to hide inside Castle Whitehill.


    "Celevet Aen Kveis," she intoned, drawing mana up from inside her to wake the word of power. While Matthew edged toward the pulsing globe of blood, she walled off the entirety of the back of themon room, sealing everyone but the two of them behind an Icewall six inches thick. Liv hoped it would be enough. Mentally, she kept a tally. Normally, that spell would have cost her only three rings of mana, but she also didn¡¯t usually create a barrier sorge. Call it four, which left her with twelve rings of mana - plus what was in the stone she wore on her finger.


    Giles was well and truly dead by this point, his body a shrivelled and pale husk, and he finally toppled over. The blood was a swirling thing, enough to fill arge bucket or pail, maybe two. The broken ss shards asionally glittered at the edges of the orb as it floated out from above the bar, into the center of themon room.


    "Let¡¯s see what this does," Matthew said, and shed at it with his rapier. The de moved through the mass of blood easily, without meeting any resistance. The globe didn¡¯t give so much as a shudder of pain, but it did wind a tendril of scarlet fluid, sparkling with fragments of ss, up Matthew¡¯s sword. He tried to flick it off, but as it slithered up closer to the hilt and his hand, he was forced to drop the weapon and back away.


    "You need to use magic," Liv said. "You wouldn¡¯t stab the river, would you? Try Ters." From what she¡¯d read about his family¡¯s word of power, it seemed perfect for this situation.


    "I¡¯m not very good with that," Matthew said. By that point, he¡¯d made it back to where Liv stood with her back against the wall. "Why don¡¯t you freeze it, instead."


    Liv looked over to the table she¡¯d been sitting at. Her spellbook was sitting there, halfway across the room. "I¡¯m not sure I even have the right words to affect blood," she admitted.


    "Well you¡¯d better look!" Matthew dived out of the way as ash of blood shot out from the orb, knocking aside two chairs and breaking the floor where he¡¯d just been standing. "I think I made it angry."


    "Keep it from paying attention to me, then," Liv shouted back, taking her skirt in her left hand and running for the table. The red orb, whatever sort of monster it was, seemed capable of paying attention to more than one thing at a time, for it grew a second tendril andshed out at her. Liv shoved a table into its path, grabbed her book, and then scampered back to her wall.


    Matthew, in the meanwhile, began throwing chairs at the thing. She couldn¡¯t see how that was going to kill it, but for the moment it turned both crimsonshes to breaking every piece of furniture hurled in its direction. Liv put her back to the ice and began flipping through pages furiously.


    She was certain that the original set of words and charts Master Jurian had given her had not contained the V?dic word for blood. She¡¯d copied down every spell to be found in the diary of Semhis Thorn-Killer, practically looting the book for pieces that could be used in her own invocations. Liv also had notes she¡¯d taken when working on spell construction with Master Grenfell. Between all of that, Liv suspected that she had a betterption of V?dic grammar and vocabry than anyone else in Whitehill, with the sole exception of her teacher. Unfortunately, that meant there were still a lot of gaps.


    A chair crashed through one of the paned windows set into the Laughing Carp¡¯s outer walls, sending shards of ss flying in every direction. Liv flinched back instinctively, losing her ce. The red orb drifted over to the broken ss, scooping it up. Theshes that swirled around the mass of blood now contained nearly as much ss as liquid.


    "Stop giving it ways to hurt us!" Liv shouted at Matthew. "And don¡¯t let it get into the street!"


    Matthew ran forward and scooped up his discarded rapier, though she didn¡¯t see what good it was going to do him. He lunged forward and swiped at the orb once, twice, three times, with none of the shes having any discernable effect. When he was fully extended, however, both whips of blood swept toward him, one from each side. Matthew managed to duck one, but the other struck him across the back, and he cried out in pain.


    Blood bloomed in a stripe along the back of Matthew¡¯s shirt, where the orb had whipped him. Drops of it fell to the floor, then rose again, flying through the air into the pulsing mass. Liv looked over to the bar, where the corpse¡¯s feet could be seen sticking out across the floor. Whatever this monster was, it had sucked out every drop of the poor man¡¯s blood, consuming him utterly until he was shrivelled and dry. Now it was going to start on Matthew.


    The thought sent a sudden rush of anger through Liv, and she gripped her staff in both hands. He might be frustrating; he might even be an idiot, charging that thing with nothing but a sword when he should be using magic. He¡¯d practically ignored her in favor of every silly town girl who threw herself at him for months, but there was no way that Liv was going to let him die. At the very least, she owed it to his mother.


    "Celent¡¯he Trei Scelim¡¯o¡¯Mae," Liv intoned, letting her mana flood through the core of her staff. The sigils lit, and three glistening shards of ice appeared in front of her, coalescing from the air itself. Matthew was scrambling backward, away from the orb, useless sword still clutched in his hand. Liv let the shards fly.


    One took the mass of the blood dead center, another deflected thesh whistling through the air toward Matthew, and thest went wide, hitting the wall of the inn and shattering. Where the des of ice had impacted the monstrous thing, frost coated the wet blood. It was the closest thing to a wound that Liv had seen yet; perhaps if she could hit it with enough shards, she could kill the thing by freezing it.


    It spun away from Matthew, whipping bothshes in Liv¡¯s direction, and she didn¡¯t have any time to think. Instead, she ran for the broken window, leaping up onto thest standing table. The whistle of theshes cutting through the air told her how close they¡¯de, and she tucked her arms, rolling across the table and then out the window into the streets of the Lower Banks. Somehow, Liv managed tond on her feet, and not cut herself in the pile of broken ss outside the window.


    Three more rings, Liv counted in her mind. That left her with nine to use, though emptying her body of mana entirely was a recipe for exhaustion. She was pretty sure she could keep herself from passing out, but she also couldn¡¯t afford to slow down, because the pulsing mass of blood had followed her out the window.


    The crowd gathered in the street outside the Laughing Carp pulled back in fear as the monster emerged from the inn. Liv could have run, if she was willing to leave all of these people in danger. Instead, she set her back to them and raised her staff. Would it be better to put everything she had into one casting? Throw as many shards at the thing as she could, and hope that put it down? Or leave herself room for another spell or two?


    A thirdsh extended from the hovering orb of blood, reaching down to scoop up the broken ss outside the window of the inn. Liv tried to imagine how muchrger this monster would grow once it had sucked up the blood from all the people in the street: it would be enormous. The sun was nearly down, and something about how the blood glistened darkly nudged a memory that Liv hadn¡¯t thought about in years.


    The thief, Wren - the one who¡¯d pulled her out of the ice, and then stolen from the old baron¡¯s collection. Liv remembered her at the window: her body, her clothing, even that statue all turned dark, glistening wetly in the light of the moon and the stars. Like blood. And Master Grenfell had said the name of the statue was¡­


    "Ractia," Liv muttered, her thoughts whirling faster than a bird¡¯s wings. "Feminine, singr, nominative case. Change it to locative¡­ Celet Aiveh Ractae!"


    The magic roared up from inside her, zing white out of the sigils along the length of her staff, and Liv thrust the polished aspenwood forward, jamming it right into the approaching mass of blood. Where the tip of the staff struck, a wave of frost spread out, crackling through the orb and then beyond, down the lengths of each tendril.


    Theshes of blood were frozen in the very act of striking at her, one curled up above Liv¡¯s head, the othersing in from either side. For a moment, the sphere twitched, and Liv worried that what she¡¯d done wouldn¡¯t be enough. She doubted she had another spell like that in her. Then, with a cracking sound, the orb froze through. It hung in front of her for just a moment, then fell to the ground, shattering on the cobblestone street.


    Exhausted, Liv set the butt of her staff on the ground, so that she could lean on it, and closed her eyes. She was shaking, and it was all she could do to remain upright.


    "Liv, are you alright?" Matthew burst out through the door, sword in hand, shirt soaked in blood.


    "I¡¯m fine," she said, opening her eyes. Around her, the crowd was murmuring. "You¡¯re going to need torches," Liv told them, raising her voice. "I made a wall of ice in there, to protect everyone. You¡¯re going to have to melt them out."


    "We¡¯ll see to it, mdy, Lord Matthew," one of the men in the crowd called.


    "We need to get back up to the castle," Matthew said. "If there¡¯s been an eruption, Father will need us."


    Liv looked up to the darkening sky, searching for a mass of stonebats. "This isn¡¯t likest time," she said. "But you¡¯re right."


    They untied the horses, and Matthew swung up easily into Boulder¡¯s saddle. Liv had borrowed Master Kazimir¡¯s gelding, Ember, and she was d of it. She had no wish to deal with the awkwardness of sharing a saddle with Matthew. She ran back into the Laughing Carp, grabbed her spellbook, and then got a hand up onto Ember¡¯s back from one of the men in the crowd. Then, she followed Matthew through the streets of the Lower Banks, heading uphill for the castle.


    ?


    "Is it an eruption?" Matthew asked, when they reached the gate. They swung down out of their saddles, handing their reins off to the guards.


    "Your father¡¯s in the great hall, m¡¯lord," one of the guards told him. "He¡¯s waiting for you both there."


    "What about Lady Julianne?" Liv asked, following Matthew across the courtyard. His back was soaked in blood.


    "Out in the streets," the man called back, and Liv frowned. Something about this wasn¡¯t right. Matthew couldn¡¯t possibly remember, but she did, and this didn¡¯t feel like thest eruption.


    Baron Henry was waiting in the great hall with half a dozen of his knights, along with the new castle chirurgeon, Mistress Trafford. "Matthew, good," the baron called. "Come over here, you and Liv both. We need anyone who can use magic."


    "What¡¯s happening?" Matthew asked. "An eruption?"


    "No, something worse," his father answered. "We would have seen the re of the eruption from here, and there was nothing. We have reports from all over town: a monster of blood at the butcher shop, another one that burst out of a mansion on the Hill."


    "That sounds exactly like what we fought at the Laughing Carp," Liv said. "The innkeep cut his hand on a broken wine bottle, and the blood all gathered up into a kind of ball, floating in the air."


    "That matches what we¡¯ve been told," Henry said, with a sharp nod. "Master Grenfell has gone to deal with the one on the Hill, and Julianne to the butcher¡¯s shop. No one has been able to hurt either of them with any kind of normal weapon."


    "It was like my de did nothing," Matthew agreed.


    Baron Henry narrowed his eyes. "Why in the name of the gods did you use your sword, boy?" he asked. "Blood is liquid. Dry it out and it clots, then crumbles."


    Matthew shrugged and looked away from his father. "Liv got it," he said.


    "It turns out these monsters freeze as easily as anything else." Liv turned to Mistress Trafford. "And before we get any further, Matthew needs his back seen to. The one we fought scooped up a lot of broken ss and used it against us, and he¡¯s been bleeding the entire way back."


    Amelia Trafford was quite a bit younger than Aldo Cushing had been, even in Liv¡¯s earliest memories. Her hair was pulled back in a bun the color of warm, polished wood, but her eyes were gray as stone, and just as hard as the old chirurgeon¡¯s had been when presented with the foolishness of his patients. "Come along upstairs, then," she ordered. "I need to see whether there¡¯s any ss stuck in the wound."


    "I¡¯lle after we know every one of these monsters has been stopped," Matthew protested.


    "You¡¯ll go now," Baron Henry interrupted. "And that¡¯s the end of it. Apprentice Brodbeck will remain with me." With a scowl, Matthew followed Mistress Trafford out of the hall.


    "Yes, m¡¯lord," Liv said, taking the chirurgeon¡¯s empty seat at the baron¡¯s side. He watched her sit, and raised his eyebrows. "Everyone who would normally sit here is somewhere else," she exined. "And I assume you want someone else who can cast spells ready to go at a moment¡¯s notice."


    "You are correct," Henry said. "Thank you for getting my son out of there in one piece, and nipping that foolishness before it grew. Not using his magic." The baron snorted.


    "I know he¡¯s had a hard time with it," Liv said, "but I didn¡¯t realize it was this bad."


    "They¡¯ll beat this nonsense out of his head at Coral Bay," Baron Henry said. "Whatever it is."


    Liv waited with the baron while runners came and went. She snacked on jerky she and Emma had smoked from mana-beast venison. So far as she could tell from listening to the reports, no further monsters had been found inside the town itself. Half a bell after arriving, she was ordered into the fields west of Whitehill, where a farmer¡¯s wife had killed a chicken for the evening meal. By the time word made its way back to the castle, a mass of blood said to be the size of a horse was rampaging from one farmstead to the next, ughtering livestock as it went.


    "I¡¯ll take Master Grenfell¡¯s horse again," Liv said, rising as soon as the messenger had stopped talking.


    "I¡¯d send half a dozen men with you," Henry muttered, "but they wouldn¡¯t do any good. Come back as soon as you¡¯ve finished. If these monsters are cropping up everywhere blood is spilled, it¡¯s going to be a long night indeed."

 38. A Day of Blood

    Inkeris lifted his hand silently, first two fingers raised, while he checked to be certain that everyone was in position. Sohvis and Rika each had two men with them, while Keri had three, all of them armored in enchanted steel. They¡¯d never cracked a cell of the cult that had more than a dozen, and the Unconquered House of B?lris held a threefold advantage: in training, magic, and equipment. He was confident that he¡¯d brought more than enough people to handle things.


    Sohvis and his men were lined up opposite Keri, on the right side of the entryway, while Rika and her guards hung back as a reserve. That had been part of their deal: there was no way he would risk her noting home to their son when this was over. After making eye contact with each of them in turn, Keri chopped his hand down and forward, toward the dark tunnel into the earth, giving his cousin Sohvis the signal to move in.


    The cult¡¯s cells made their shrines in out of the way ces where they hoped to pass unnoticed. Over years of hunting across the north, Keri had broken down the doors of abandoned barns, and ripped up the floors of modest homes. He¡¯d dug through a mess of frozen fish to find a secret hatch, and climbed above the tree line to where blood-spattered shrines clung to rocky crags. Today, they¡¯d tracked their targets to a stretch of forested hills northwest of Al¡¯Fenthia.


    This particr hill had been excavated and braced, with a stone doorway built into the earth itself, leading down into darkness. It would be cramped, dim and dangerous to follow their prey into this particr rat hole. At least the word of B?lris could deal with one of those problems.


    Sohvis and his men moved as soon as the signal was given, Keri¡¯s cousin darting down into the tunnel with a muttered invocation. Light burst out of the doorway: with any luck, the sudden re would catch the cultists by surprise and blind them. Keri counted to ten slowly, then took his men and followed.


    The tunnel was just as tight as he¡¯d feared it would be, and Keri grimaced. His spear was a better weapon for this sort of thing than Sohvis¡¯ de, but his cousin had insisted on going first. Up ahead, the ring of metal on metal told Keri that their forward team had made contact.


    Keri picked up his pace, dashing out of the tunnel into an open chamber no more than thirty feet across, and perhaps ten high. A full third of the ce was taken up by the grotesque altar built into the far wall: the figure of a nude woman, sculpted from y, holding her swollen belly with both hands. Her head was adorned with braided and knotted cords of yarn, in a dozen or more shades of red, and her eyes had been set with pale stones. Beneath her, a shallow pit had been dug into the earth and lined with tightly packed and mortared stones. Oilmps lined the irregr walls of the chamber, illuminating the pile of bones heaped around the feet of the icon.


    The stench was horrible: blood, offal and rot, the air so thick with it that Keri nearly choked. They¡¯d waited until the cult hade to perform their dark rites, in an attempt to catch them all at once, and as a result there was a freshly killed chicken in the sacrificial basin at the base of the statue, still leaking blood.


    It also meant the room was filled with people. Keri caught a glimpse of Sohvis spinning his de through the neck of a middle-aged man, decapitating him with a single cut. Keri¡¯s three men piled into the chamber, and he saw a young woman in the simple garb of a merchant or shopkeeper make a run to get past him. He thrust forward with his N?v¡¯bel, taking her in the thigh, and she screamed, clutching the wound. Instead of pulling the de of the spear out, Keri muttered the invocation to a spell.


    "Savelet Aisarg ?¡¯N?v¡¯bel." The words carried his mana up from inside, down through his arms, and out into his spear. The de, still buried inside the woman¡¯s thigh, shed with light and heat, causing her to cry aloud in pain once again before he drew it forth. Smoke wafted up from her charred flesh, but she would not bleed to death before he was able to question her.


    "Keri!" The cry came from behind him, and Rika charged out of the tunnel into the subterranean shrine. "Something¡¯s happening," she said, drawing herself up short at his side. "The sky-"


    "Blood and shadows," Sohvis cursed, and Keri spun away from his kwenim to see his cousin scrambling back. Above the sacrifice, a swirling vortex of blood was sucking in every bit of viscera and gore that had been spilled during the raid. The pulsing orb consumed the blood of the dead chicken, but also that of the man Sohvis had beheaded, and seemed to feed from the very wounds of the defeated cultists.


    Before anyone had wrapped their minds around what was happening, ash of blood whipped out, taking one of Sohvis¡¯ men around the neck and jerking him up into the air. The man dropped his de, trying to pry the tendril of gore away from his neck with his own fingers. The horror spawned in front of the altar gave him no time: instead, it swung the man, headfirst, into the mortared stones of the sacrificial basin. When it jerked him back up again, limp, Keri watched the blood leaking from his split scalp drawn inexorably into the hovering orb.


    "Burn it!" Keri shouted. He repeated his spell, and the de of his spear erupted into zing, hot sunlight. Then, he charged.


    ?


    Jurian of Carinthia had still not quite gotten used to the life of a professor at Coral Bay. In the time since he¡¯d walked the halls of the College of V?dic Grammar as a student, little had changed with the school itself. No, he was the one who had changed. He¡¯d gotten old, for one thing.


    Twenty-five - no, it had been twenty six years, he corrected himself. When he¡¯d been a student here, Master Coleridge had upied this office, and it still didn¡¯t feel like a ce that Jurian belonged. Eating his evening meal in the office was still preferable to dining with the students or the other professors, however, so here he was, sitting in front of the open windows that looked out on the bay at sunset. At least the sea breeze was nice.


    The food, on the other hand, he was getting well and truly sick of. Years on the road had ustomed Jurian to eating in all manner ofmon rooms, sampling hearty meals from all across the kingdom of Lucania, and beyond. From the market stalls of Al¡¯Fenthia to the Dancing Lady in Calder¡¯s Landing, he¡¯d loved the variety. And not only that, but the experience of sharing a meal with good friends. Companions that he trusted to watch his back in the deadly chaos of an eruption.


    Swallowing yet another helping of mana-rich lobster bisque, alone in his office, it was hard not to feel like he¡¯d lost something. "You were right, Genny," Jurian said to break his own solitude. "It¡¯s possible to get sick of anything. Even seafood."


    He finished off his goblet of watered wine, and fished the locket out from inside his academic robes. A flick of his thumb, a click, and the silver cover swung open to expose the miniature portrait within. The artist had been skilled; he¡¯d not only got her hair right, but her eyes, as well - the wildness of the first, the bright glow of the second. "I should get rid of this," he told himself, for the hundredth time.


    Screams from outside the window broke through Jurian¡¯s maudlin mood. That didn¡¯t sound like a duel, and no one should have been teachingbat sses but him. He thumbed the locket shut, tucked it back under his robes, and got to his feet, hurrying over to the window.


    Below, students were pouring into the courtyard, backing away from Professor Annora¡¯s infirmary. Jurian frowned. What sort of trouble, in the name of the trinity, could the students possibly have caused in there? If this was another prank by that Hobart boy-


    The window of the infirmary exploded outward, unable to halt the momentum of the person who¡¯d been thrown into the ss. A grey-haired woman in professor¡¯s robes tumbled across the cobblestones beforeing to a halt twenty feet from the building, and Jurian recognized Annora. She¡¯d be fine; anything that didn¡¯t kill her would be quickly dealt with by her healing magic, but at the same time, there shouldn¡¯t have been any threat on the campus capable of rag-dolling a mage of her experience.


    The thing that stalked his colleague out of the infirmaryshed out in every direction with whips of some viscous, red liquid, shattering stone and catching a slow student by her leg. The center of the thing pulsed and spun, glistening wetly. It was, Jurian realized, as if someone had gathered up every wound on every patient in the ce, scooped them all up, and then sent what clumped together out to kill.


    Jurian grinned. "Finally," he said. "Something to liven the ce up." He reached out his hand, and the staff of driftwood, silver and gold he¡¯d carried since his days as a student shot across the room into his palm. It felt right. Without a second thought, Jurian climbed out the window. A ne of shimmering blue and gold sparked into existence a few feet below him, remaining corporeal for just long enough that he could push off it with his boot, aiming for the next point in his descent. Ephemeral step by step, Jurian made his way down from the third floor of ckstone Hall,nding in the courtyard.


    "It ripped through my patients," the professor of healing shouted to him, from where two students had helped her to her feet. The girl who¡¯d been caught by the leg was little more than a smear on the ground.


    "I¡¯ll clear you a way back inside, Nora," Jurian called back to her. Best to speak aloud for the next bit: it wasn¡¯t something he did often, and he¡¯d rather not make a mistake. "Aluthet Aiveh Demia," he called out. It was going to be arge spell, so he pulled in the ambient mana in the courtyard around him, especially the traces carried on the sea breeze, from the shoals of the Tidal Rift, gathering up every scrap of power he could. Then, he shaped it with his intent, building a dome of raw magical force justrge enough to surround both himself, and his prey.


    Curved panes of shining blue light, sparking gold, snapped into ce one after the other, interlocking like the scales of a fish, until everything outside of his chosen arena was barred from interfering.


    The sphere of blood,shing about with its whips, turned its attention to Jurian and began to float toward him.


    "I don¡¯t know what you are," Coral Bay¡¯s professor ofbat said. With a practiced thought, raw mana condensed into a de in his left hand, tes of armor about his body. "But you have no idea how much I have been missing this."


    He stepped forward with a grin that would have terrified his students.


    ?


    The world shook around Wren Wind Dancer. Above her, the sky was blotted out by a plume of ash and smoke. Below, down the slopes of the mountain, the trees were burning, set ame by the rivers ofva spilling down from the site of the eruption. The air was so hot she could barely breathe.


    "Father!" Wren screamed. The shrine had been obliterated in the first explosion, when a column of light had linked the peak with the ring in the sky above, and shards of ck rock had shot down the mountain. Everyone else who could fly had already left, darting between burning cinders on ck wings, heading down toward the river. Those who were too young or old had been sent away days before, and would be waiting there. But her father had been inside the rift, and he still hadn¡¯te out.


    It had taken them years to fight their way through the shoals to the depths, clearing the mana-beasts as they went, bleeding for each precious foot of ground. Wren had been a vital part of it, which was the only thing that helped her find the entrance to the rift now, when the entire mountain had been so altered. Everything green was gone, leaving only a burning nightmare.


    The doorway was of obsidian, sharp and polished to a glossy finish, and it was a miracle that it still stood. Wren murmured a thanks to the goddess, ducked inside, and hoped that the eruption had not copsed any of the tunnels. A part of her knew that was the least of her worries: it would be far worse to rush around a corner and find the entire passage obliterated by a river of moltenva.


    It had been nearly twenty years of work, first to take the heart of the rift, and then to hold it against every creature that absorbed enough mana to grow mad and dangerous. Wren couldn¡¯t count how many warriors they¡¯d lost, waiting for the next eruption toe. When the blood-letters had finally announced the signs, her father had dered he would wait at the heart of the rift himself, standing vigil until the appointed time. She¡¯d begged him to let her stay at his side, but Nighthawk, Chief of the Red Shield Tribe, had refused.


    "If something should happen to me," he¡¯d said, putting his massive hand on her shoulder, "you must lead our people. Seed or fail, do not let our memory pass away from this world. Survive."


    Wren slid around the corner which marked the transition from the shoals to the depths, skidding on the stone, then found her bnce and kept running. Something was wrong: when they¡¯d first made it this far, even she had been able to feel the heaviness of the mana in the air. Now, there was absolute emptiness, instead. There was nothing to do but keep going, so she pressed on to the tomb itself.


    Even the blood-letters had not been confident the old stories were true, but her father had never lost faith. And there, at the very depths of the rift, they¡¯d found it. The chamber where, a thousand years before, the goddess¡¯st, faithful servants had taken her body, after the day the sky fell.


    Now, the massive doors of stone were cracked open. It had taken weeks of work, with chisels and hammers, while warriors stood guard all the while. Wren slipped through, into the tomb itself. "Father?" she called into the darkness.


    The faintest sound, of something shuffling on stone, and two red eyes, shining like hot steel in a forge, turned to Wren. A great weight pressed down on her, and she could not help but fall to the floor of the tomb, first onto her hands and knees, and then finally t on her belly, cheek to the stone, hair in her face.


    Something assaulted Wren¡¯s mind, and she heard herself screaming as if from a great distance. Memories flickered: her mother, before she¡¯d died coughing up blood. Her father, showing her how to fletch an arrow. Faster and faster, the memories came, flickering like the wings of a moth, until Wren couldn¡¯t keep track of them any longer.


    Thest, however, slowed. She paused in the window of Castle Whitehill, the white statue of the goddess in her hand, the girl with the pointed ears staring at her in the moonlight. "It doesn¡¯t belong to your baron, either," Wren said, in her memories. "It was stolen, and brought here from Varuna, across the sea. I¡¯m just taking it back. I¡¯m sorry you woke up tonight, girl. They¡¯re going to me you for this, and you don¡¯t deserve it."


    "Rise, child," a woman¡¯s voice said, filling the chamber. The memories slipped away, and the pressure eased. Wren sucked in a breath, got her hands under her, and pushed herself up from the floor, onto her knees.


    "Goddess?" Wren gasped. "My father-"


    A great bulk moved in the darkness, a shadow. A woman¡¯s hand, delicate and pale, rose up, bringing a dim, red light into the chamber. Ractia¡¯s dark hair hung loose past her shoulders, and it was the only thing she wore. Her eyes were shaped oddly, and the features of her face as well, though Wren couldn¡¯t have put into words how. Her hips were wide, her belly gently curved, and her breasts full and heavy. Like the idol Wren had stolen near twenty years before, the Lady of Blood was no young woman, but a mother goddess.


    "Be at peace, my daughter," Ractia murmured. "Now that I am returned, there are a great many wrongs to be set right. You and your father will stand at my side for all of it."


    The shadow at Ractia¡¯s shoulder stepped forward, revealed by the ruddy light, and Wren looked upon the face of the chief. Nighthawk Wind Dancer¡¯s visage was grim, set as stone, and he showed no expression at the sight of his own daughter on her knees.


    There was nothing left of Wren¡¯s father in his red eyes.

 39. The Cotter Farm

    Liv found the blood monster in the fields of a particrly dpidated farm, just as the first stars were peaking out of the purple eastern sky. She was thankful that thest few years of riding practice had finally been enough to make her feelfortable in the saddle, because she ended up having to go off the road and even jump a drainage ditch before she made it to the family. They were gathered around a singr oak tree, on a rise between fields, which had grown to a height of thirty feet. Liv knew that trees like these were sometimes used as markers on Baron Henry¡¯s surveys of thend.


    She reined in, slid down out of her saddle, and tied Ember up to a low hanging branch. To Liv¡¯s surprise, she recognized the head of the family by the light of the sunset. "Big Whit Cotter," she called, ducking under the branches.


    "I¡¯m surprised you know my name, mdy," therge man said, making an awkward bow that the rest of his family mimicked. There were four of them, all dressed in worn old clothing that had been patched and repaired too many times: a middle aged woman who must have been Whit¡¯s wife, and Little Whit, a man now in his prime. Liv guessed the woman he had an arm around was probably his wife, not a sister.


    "You used to win the bare knuckle fights at every fair day when I was little," Liv exined. "No one could beat you."


    Big Whit grinned. "That was when I was younger!" he said. "Even so, if this thing was just some jumped up field mouse, or even a fox, I might¡¯ve given it a smack. As it is," he waved an arm helplessly at the carnage in his field. "You see. I don¡¯t know what we could even do."


    It was lucky there was still enough light to see by; the sun had not entirely passed beneath the mountains to the west of the valley. The orb of blood, looking just like the one Liv and Matthew had fought at the Laughing Carp, had clearly got in among the chickens, because there were feathers everywhere by the coop. The corpse of one old milk-cowy in the field, desated and shrunken, and not far away the monster was currently engage in draining the blood from a pig, with no less than four whips of gore wrapped around its victim.


    "It started over at the Hardwick¡¯s ce," Little Whit spoke up, pointing past the fields to where another farmhouse could be glimpsed in the distance. "We¡¯re not sure if they got out alright." Liv didn¡¯t see any lights in the windows, but she kept her doubts to herself.


    "It¡¯ll make things easier if you all stay out of sight," Liv told them. She¡¯d been chewing jerky the whole way over, but she still didn¡¯t figure she was holding as much mana as she could. Maybe fourteen or fifteen rings, if she had to guess. In any case, she didn¡¯t want to have to protect the Cotter family at the same time as she was dealing with the monster. They really needed toe up with a name for these things.


    Once the family had descended the hill, putting it between them and the field where Liv intended to fight, she got to work. This was the first time that she¡¯d even been sent to solve a problem like this entirely on her own, and Liv didn¡¯t intend to make a mess of it. That meant she wanted to first keep the monster from fleeing, and then dispose of it. Who knew how big it would get if it continued rampaging across the countryside.


    Liv momentarily considered, then discarded, the idea of using her Grasping Ice spell. If the blood-monster had been more solid, she might have tried it, but she figured it would probably just ooze past the pirs. She only had a little time before it finished with the pig; when that happened, it would either notice her, and close distance, or it would wander off searching for some other victim. It was that thought that gave her an idea.


    "Celet Manis," Liv intoned, lifting her staff and pointing it at a patch of earth just in front of the feeding orb. She built the sculpture just like she did when providing targets for Matthew to cut in the practice yard, a man of ice with a sword raised, as if charging in to fight. She took her time with it; this part didn¡¯t have to be quick, it only needed to draw attention.


    Ash of viscera flung out from the orb, wrapping around the legs of the statue. Tossing the pig aside, the mass of blood closed on Liv¡¯s decoy, throwing out the rest of its whips to bind a new target. It was smart enough to keep its prey from escaping, apparently, but it hadn¡¯t yet realized what she was doing. Even touching the ice would start to congeal the blood, but Liv didn¡¯t give the monster a chance to pull back. "Celent¡¯he Aiveh Encve N?v¡¯belim¡¯o¡¯Manis," she continued her chanting, before the sigils zing on her staff had a chance to even dim.


    Spears of ice shot out of the decoy, piercing the orb of blood and two of itsshes. The monster shook, trying to pull itself back off the frozen spikes it was impaled on, but Liv didn¡¯t let up. "Celet Aiveh N?v¡¯belium Ractae," she finished, then lowered her staff to watch the results.


    The spears that pierced the monster of blood radiated cold, chilling and freezing everything they touched. Frost spidered out from each spear, encasing the monster until it stopped moving entirely. Only when theshes crumbled and the frozen orb fell to the ground, shattering into scores of icy pink chunks, did Liv rx. It had been a moreplicated sequence of casting then she had ever used in an actual fight before, but it had worked, and left her with a sliver of mana. With the emergency power stored in her ring, she might even be able to get off a single spell, if she needed to.


    "By the trinity," Little Whit¡¯s wife gasped. "Did you see that?"


    Liv turned, and saw that the entire family had crept over the rise of the hill, on their bellies, to watch what she¡¯d done. With a sigh, she trudged back through the gathering darkness toward the tree, where Master Grenfell¡¯s gelding was waiting. There was no way she was going to walk back to Castle Whitehill after that.


    ?


    By the time Liv had returned to the castle, the moon was up, and the courtyard torches had been lit. She found that both Lady Julianne and Master Grenfell had returned, and that Gretta and her mother had cooked up two massive pheasants, from the shoals of Bald Peak, with mushrooms and onions in a wine sauce. Liv settled in next to them and helped herself to arge serving of meat: who knew what further attacks might happen in the night?


    "I dealt with the one in the west fields," she said, in between bites.


    "Good," Baron Henry said. "That¡¯s thest we have word of, but I want someone headed south tomorrow to check on Fairford, and then the pass."


    "I can do that," Lady Julianne offered. "I want to speak to Aunt Rhea, in any case, before we leave."


    "Which means that I should go north," Master Grenfell spoke up. "To see whether the miners at Bald Peak came under attack."


    "What do you want me to do?" Liv asked, then took arge gulp of watered wine.


    "First," Lady Julianne said, "I want you checked over by Mistress Trafford. You¡¯ve been in two fights today, and I want to be absolutely certain you¡¯re in good condition to travel. You can go up to her chambers once you¡¯ve had something to eat; she¡¯s already wrapped my son¡¯s wounds and put him to bed."


    Liv grimaced, but didn¡¯t object. She wasn¡¯t asfortable with Amelia Trafford as she had been with Master Cushing, but she didn¡¯t have any real objection to the woman. "I¡¯ll do that," she said. "Travel? Do we need to check in with Al¡¯Fenthia?" It was a lot sooner than she¡¯d nned on seeing Airis Ka Reimis again, but it would make a certain amount of sense to send her, out of anyone.


    "No," Julianne said, shaking her head. "The Eld are more than capable of taking care of themselves. My father will be summoning a great council."


    "The king can¡¯t possibly have sent a messenger yet," Liv objected. "It¡¯s only been hours. Even pigeons take days."


    Lady Julianne grinned. "My father did not send me so far away without making certain we had a means tomunicate."


    "In any event," Baron Henry said. "While King Rnd is still gathering information, he did tell us that there were attacks at the capital, and at Coral Bay, as well. At this point, we are all acting under the assumption that this event epassed much of the kingdom. Master Grenfell, between the five of us, I presume it should be possible to use the Waystone at Bald Peak?"


    Liv¡¯s teacher nodded his head. "With the burden spread among so many, I foresee no difficulty."


    "Three days should give us time to scour the valley for any more of these things," the baron said. "I¡¯ll have each knight take a team at first light. Until my wife and Master Grenfell have returned, Apprentice, I will need you to be avable here. You will be the first one I send after anything they find."


    "What about Matthew?" Liv asked. It was clear to everyone why Baron Henry couldn¡¯t go.


    "Unlike my son, you¡¯ve already shown you can defeat these enemies," Henry told her. "This stubbornness about his magic has gone on too long. I don¡¯t care whether he likes fencing better, it¡¯s foolishness to put aside a tool that has use."


    Lady Julianne reached a hand over and rested it on her husband¡¯s arm. "The College will set him right," she said. "Set it aside for now, Henry. Liv, see the first footman about making certain your things are packed."


    "It sounds like I have a list of things to do before I can sleep," Liv said, pushing her te aside and standing. "If you¡¯ll excuse me, then, m¡¯lord, mdy."


    "My Lord," Julianne corrected her. "It may not matter here, but it will at court. Talk like a peasant and you¡¯ll be treated like one."


    "Yes, My Lady," Liv said. She curtsied, grabbed her staff, and headed upstairs to find Mistress Trafford. When she knocked on the door to the chirurgeon¡¯s chambers, there was only a brief pause before a woman¡¯s voice from within called for her to enter. Liv slipped inside, then closed the door behind her. The room felt warmer than it had in the past, and there was a new, plush carpet on the floor.


    Amelia Trafford was sitting at her desk, reading through a sheaf of notes, a quill in hand and a pot of ink at her elbow. A set of spectacles perched on her nose, which she adjusted with one finger. "Good, Apprentice Brodbeck," she said. "Have a seat on the table. I was just reviewing Master Cushing¡¯s notes on you."


    Liv set her staff against the wall in the corner of the room, then climbed up. "Is there something I should be worrying about?" she asked.


    "Not as such," Mistress Trafford said. She removed her spectacles, rose from her desk, and approached. "But you are something of a special case. Thankfully, Master Cushing kept meticulous records. Any wounds?"


    Liv shook her head. "No. Neither of the monsters ever touched me." Though the first one, at the inn, had been a near thing.


    "Did you take any falls?" Trafford asked her.


    "I rolled across a table and jumped out a window," Liv said.


    "I want to check your legs, then," the chirurgeon told her. "For any fractures." She knelt on the floor in front of Liv and began running her hands up her calves, squeezing gently as she moved upward. "Tell me if there¡¯s any pain."


    "I haven¡¯t broken a bone for years," Liv protested. "Since my arm in the courtyard."


    "That¡¯s because you¡¯ve been careful," the chirurgeon pointed out. "Today, you weren¡¯t being careful. Sometimes, soldiers don¡¯t even realize they¡¯re wounded until after a battle is over. Given your history with fractures and breaks, we can¡¯t be too cautious. Nothing?"


    Liv shook her head. "I feel fine. Just tired."


    Mistress Trafford nodded. "You can go, then. It¡¯s going to be a busy few days, so be sure to get a good night¡¯s sleep," she said, standing up and turning back toward her desk.


    "Can you tell Lady Julianne that I¡¯m ready to go to Coral Bay?" Liv said, before she could think better of it.


    The chirurgeon turned back to her. "I would think that is a question you should be asking Master Grenfell," she said.


    Liv shook her head. "It isn¡¯t about magic," she said. "I¡¯m better at magic than Matthew. A lot better," she admitted. "I¡¯ve had more time and training than probably anyone else going there this year, but they won¡¯t let me go because they say I¡¯m not old enough."


    Mistress Trafford walked back over to her desk, and consulted her notes. "Master Cushing estimated that you were maturing at half the speed of a human," she said. "And everything I have seen, whether in these records, or since I¡¯vee here, supports that. How old were you when you bled for the first time?"


    "Twenty-four," Liv answered. "It was the year you came here."


    "Twelve years old would be consistent with the growth of a human girl," Amelia Trafford said. "It¡¯s been six years since then, which would make you about fifteen, physically. Your growth has slowed, but you still added half an inch sincest winter. You¡¯re skinny, you haven¡¯t filled out yet. Every piece of evidence I have, every measurement, even just ncing at your face, Liv, tells me that you¡¯re aren¡¯t an adult yet. Close, maybe but not there. We don¡¯t send children to Coral Bay, we send people who have reached the age of majority."


    "But I¡¯m older than any of them!" Livined. "This is ridiculous. I¡¯m better at magic than they are. Anyone I go to school with will be half my age. I don¡¯t see what waiting another six years will do for me. If I went now, I could at least go with someone I know. A friend."


    "I can understand why you would want that," the chirurgeon said. "And I sympathize Liv, I really do."


    "Don¡¯t you dare say you understand me," Liv shot back, suddenly furious. "You didn¡¯t have to grow up different than everyone else. Emma was younger than me, and now she¡¯s talking about getting married, and I¡¯m still treated like a child. Matthew was a baby, and now he¡¯s allowed to go to college before me? It isn¡¯t fair!"


    Mistress Trafford waited a long moment before she responded. "If we send you to Coral Bay now, we are telling everyone that you are avable for marriage. Half the reason the aristocracy sends their children there is to make matches. You are not ready for that."


    "I don¡¯t care about finding a husband!" Liv shouted. "I just want to go with a single friend, instead of all by myself."


    "Your body isn¡¯t the only thing that needs to finish growing," the chirugeon said, crossing the room and tapping her finger against Liv¡¯s forehead. "This. Right here. You mind isn¡¯t ready. You know why we start children learning V?dic so young? You learnnguage easier as a child, rather than as an adult. There¡¯s something in our heads, in our brains, that goes away as we get older, or at least changes. And you, right now? You¡¯re acting exactly like what you are, which is a fifteen year old girl. You get angry, you get frustrated, and that¡¯s normal, Liv. You think I don¡¯t remember what it was like to be that age? Half the time I wanted to scream at my mother, the other half I wanted to lock myself in my room and cry, and whichever I was feeling I was probably mooning over some stupid boy at the same time."


    "I¡¯m not you," Liv said, ring at her.


    "No, you aren¡¯t," Trafford said. "You¡¯re a girl who doesn¡¯t fit in anywhere. I¡¯m sorry, but I can¡¯t fix that for you. When we do let you go to Coral Bay, in some ways, you¡¯re going to be smarter than everyone there. You¡¯re right, no one else will have twenty years of training in magic like you will. But that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re ready. I know you don¡¯t want to hear this, but you need to just be patient and trust us."


    "I don¡¯t have a choice, do I?" Livined, pushing herself off the table and striding over to the wall, where she took her staff back.


    "No," Mistress Trafford said. "You do not. I¡¯m sorry Liv, but that¡¯s all there is to it. Try to get yourself a good night¡¯s sleep; I have a feeling it¡¯s going to be quite busy around here over the next few days."


    Without another word, Liv stormed out the door, mmed it, and set off down the hall to her room.

 40. The Endless Horizon

    Over the next three days, Castle Whitehill descended into barely controlled chaos. Liv could barely remember thest time Baron Henry had gone to the capital, nearly twenty years before. She¡¯d been only a scullery maid, at the time, left behind when he went to negotiate his marriage to Lady Julianne. Her mother and Gretta had stayed, as well, though Archibald and the other footmen had gone.


    "There must have been other councils called since the eruption," Liv said, while the seamstress fussed around her with a mouthful of pins.


    "The small council meets regrly," Lady Julianne pointed out, taking a sip of her tea. They were in her sitting room, and Mistress Ethel had been summoned from her shop on The Hill toe and take measurements. "The great council, on the other hand, is called only to approve new taxes, war, or to deliberate some other truly monumental matter. There have been two, since my husband¡¯s injury, and Henry has delegated his vote to Duke Thomas on both asions."


    "But this is more important," Liv guessed, holding her arms up and out of Mistress Ethel¡¯s way.


    "Precisely," Julianne confirmed. "A debate on taxation is one thing; it would be too much trouble to go for that, in his condition. But if these attacks truly have spread across the kingdom, we need to attend ourselves, to learn everything we can. Even if I would prefer to avoid it. How is she looking, Ethel?"


    "She needs a whole set of new dresses, in all honesty," the seamstress said. "You¡¯ve grown out in the hips and bust sincest we measured you, Livy. I¡¯m surprised you fit into the old ones at all."


    "They¡¯re only a little tight," Liv protested.


    "How many can you make before we leave?" Julianne asked.


    Ethel walked over to the desk, where she made notes with chalk on a te. "Two for her, one for you," she said, after chewing the problem over for a moment. Just travelling clothes, nothing fancy."


    "I have plenty of court gowns," Lady Julianne said. "Though none will be in this season¡¯s style. We¡¯ll get the fancier things in Freeport; it will be one of our first stops when we arrive."


    "I thought the city was named Lucania, too?" Liv said, stepping down from the stool where the seamstress had ced her. Julianne shook her head.


    "The old Barony was Lucania," she said. "And even that was only a few generations after the city was founded. Lucan himself just called the ce Freeport. From what I¡¯ve read of him, he would have been a bit embarrassed to have an entire kingdom carry his name. Be that as it may, I know a seamstress once we get there. Or at least I did, twenty years ago," she admitted. "The three dresses, then. I¡¯ll pay you double the normal price to get them done before we leave."


    "I¡¯ll have them here the night before you leave," Ethel said, curtsying. She gathered up her things and departed.


    "Other than the dresses," Lady Julianne asked, "are you packed?"


    Liv shrugged. "I don¡¯t have much to bring, mdy," she said. "Clean shifts and stockings, my staff and books. A quill and ink bottle, and I thought I might bring some of the jerky that Emma and I have smoked."


    "That¡¯s a good thought; bring as much of it as you can," Julianne said. "You won¡¯t be able to hunt at the capital: everything we want to eat will have to be paid for in coin. Bring your winter cloak; it¡¯s a cold wind thates in off the ocean, once the harvest is in. And have yourself a good bath below the castle. There aren¡¯t any hot springs there."


    "As you say, mdy." Liv curtsied, then headed out into the hall. It was a special treat to bathe in the waters under the castle, and she still felt a bit self conscious about using the space unless she was given explicit permission. No servant would ever be allowed to, and though she wasn¡¯t a servant anymore, she also didn¡¯t feel quite a member of the court.


    ?


    On the morning of the third day, Liv found both her new dressesid out in her sitting room when she rose. She¡¯d been given arge leather trunk to store her things in, though she hadn¡¯t been able to fill itpletely. She simply didn¡¯t own very much. She was just trying to choose which of her new dresses to pack, and which to wear, when a knock came on her door.


    "Who is it?" Liv called, padding across the room in her stockings.


    "I wanted toe see you off," her mother¡¯s voice came from the other side of the door. Liv opened the door, and immediately found herself wrapped up in her mother¡¯s arms. "Let me help you dress," Mama said.


    "I was just trying to choose." Liv led her mother over to where the new dresses had been set out. Both were dark gray, different only in the choice of color in the lining. One was a floral pattern in burgundy and yellow, while the other was green with white blossoms.


    "This one," her mother said, picking up the skirt lined in green and white. "Summerset colors. Will show everyone who you¡¯re with right when you arrive." Liv nodded, and quickly stowed the other dress in her trunk.


    "I wish you wereing," Liv admitted, while her mother worked theces at her back.


    "Five or ten years ago, I might have," Mama admitted. "But you¡¯re old enough to look after yourself now, and my back isn¡¯t what it used to be. They¡¯ll hire a cook - I¡¯d be amazed if Lady Julianne hasn¡¯t already arranged it. She¡¯s a sharp one."


    "You¡¯re not that old yet, Mama," Liv teased.


    "I¡¯m fifty-four years old, my dove," her mother said,ing around in front of her to look the dress over. "I¡¯m not young, either."


    Liv paused, really looking at her mother for the first time in ages. They spent so much of their days apart, now: Mama in the kitchens, and Liv in the practice yard, or the forest, or in Master Grenfell¡¯s study. There was gray in her mother¡¯s hair, and not a little of it. Though she smiled, her face was lined.


    "Oh, don¡¯t worry about me, Livy," her mother said. "I¡¯ll still be here when you get back. You look after yourself in the capital, you hear?"


    "I can¡¯t imagine we¡¯ll be gone that long," she said. "We¡¯ll want toe back before the snows fall, won¡¯t we?"


    "Once they get a council going, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if it goes all winter," her mother said. "I remember when the old baron used to go. Now, you do exactly as Lady Julianne says, understand? I want a good report of you when youe back. And watch yourself around those boys at court."


    "I will, Mama," Liv promised, taking up her staff from where she¡¯d leaned it in the corner.


    "Come on then," her mother said. "Let¡¯s get you downstairs."


    "I have to call someone toe get my trunk," Liv said.


    "No need for that." Her mother opened the door, to reveal the first footman and Gretta waiting outside in the hall. No one had gone around to snuff the oilmps yet, and the light of early morning was streaming in through the window panes.


    "I¡¯ll take your trunk down, Miss Brodbeck," Archibald said, with a smile. "Your mother wasn¡¯t the only one who wanted to see you off." He nodded his head to the woman who¡¯d been waiting at his side.


    "Give me a hug before you go," Gretta said. When Liv wrapped her arms around the old woman, she was surprised by how fragile her body felt.


    "I want you all to still be here when Ie home," Liv said, and then, on impulse, gave her mother another hug.


    "You don¡¯t need to worry about that," her mother said. "Come along. Let¡¯s get you down to the courtyard. You don¡¯t want to be the one they¡¯re all waiting for, do you?"


    Three carriages waited in the courtyard, each with a team of horses hitched, and half a dozen horses were saddled besides, each with one of the castle guards already in the saddle. "The first is for the family," Archibald exined, as he lugged Liv¡¯s trunk over to the second carriage. "This is you, Master Grenfell, and the chirurgeon. I¡¯ll be with Edward, Thomas and Sophia in the third."


    "Thank you," she said. The door to the carriage was open, and she saw that her teacher and Mistress Trafford were already seated inside, on opposite benches. Liv climbed in, took a seat next to Master Grenfell, then leaned out to wave once more at her mother and Gretta. One of the guards came over to close the carriage door, so she sat back on the padded bench.


    "The cooks packed us all a meal to eat on the way," Amelia Trafford said. "Apple tarts. Have one."


    "Thank you." Liv regarded the chirurgeon warily; now that a few days had passed, she regretted yelling at the woman, but it didn¡¯t seem like Mistress Trafford was angry with her. She picked out one apple tart, hesitated, and then grabbed a second."


    "There¡¯s a bottle of tea, as well," Master Grenfell said, lifting it from where he¡¯d tucked it between his leg and the carriage. "Still hot, but it won¡¯t be for long." Liv set the tarts on herp, epted a drink of the tea, and then handed the bottle back. By the time she¡¯d started in on her first tart, they were off.


    Surrounded by Baron Henry¡¯s soldiers on horseback, and with no less than five people capable of using magic split between two carriages, Liv found that she didn¡¯t feel any worry that a stray blood monster might ambush them. With little else to do once she¡¯d finished eating, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and snuggled into it, doing her best to getfortable for the rest of the ride.


    As she dozed, she wondered what they would find at the capitol. Lady Julianne would clearly know people there, even if she¡¯d been gone for a long time. She was the king¡¯s daughter, after all. Baron Henry would be a part of this grand council, however that worked, and Matthew would probably go along to learn from his father. Archibald and the other two footmen would make certain they were settled in and that the household functioned. She wondered, for a moment, whether Baron Henry or Lady Julianne owned a house in Freeport, or if they would be guests of the king.


    The thought of staying at the pce was enough to make her shudder. Liv really wasn¡¯t certain why they¡¯d decided to bring her. Was she just to be one more person to throw magic at the problem, if those monstrosities attacked? She certainly wouldn¡¯t be wee at the council or at the king¡¯s court, would she? Finally, she couldn¡¯t take the wondering any more, and pulled her hood back.


    "What are we going to be doing?" Liv asked Master Grenfell. He was leaning against the window, and now he opened one eye to regard her.


    "We will serve at the pleasure of the baron, as he requires," her teacher told her. "And when we are not upied doing that, there may well be a chance for us to meet up with some old colleagues of mine."


    "Other mages?" Liv asked.


    Grenfell smiled. "If most of the aristocracy will be present for the great council, they will bring their court mages along with them. I can¡¯t very well leave a promising young apprentice to her own devices when I might need her assistance, can I? Pay attention and you may learn a few things. Anyway, there are a few specific people I want to introduce you to."


    Liv turned away from him and looked out the window. "What are people in the capital going to think of me?" she asked.


    "You mean, are they going to curse at you and want to trim your ears?" Mistress Trafford asked her. "If you went to the wrong part of town, certainly. I¡¯d rmend you travel by carriage, Apprentice. And keep your hood up."


    "Court will be different," Master Grenfell said. "Words are sharper than knives, in that crowd."


    If any of that was meant to make her feel better, Liv decided, they had failed. Nheless, when the carriages rolled up to the waystone on the bluff overlooking the Aspen River, there was at least one thing to be excited about. She followed Master Grenfell out of the carriage and onto the stone, where they were joined by Matthew and Lady Julianne.


    "Come and look over here, children," Grenfell said, striding across the waystone to a particr set of sigils. "Before it was the capital of Lucania, and before Lucan named it Freeport, where we are going was called Gre¡¯Dua. Which means...?" He looked back and forth between Liv and Matthew.


    "...something green?" the baron¡¯s son guessed.


    "Grassy dunes," Liv corrected him.


    "Yes, Liv," Grenfell said. "It hosted one of the pleasure pces of the V?dim. The beaches south and north of the city are still beautiful - or at least they were, whenst I was there." He looked to Lady Julianne for confirmation.


    "They are," she agreed. "Too far to walk, now. The city has grownrge. You need a carriage to get there. A bit cold for bathing in the ocean, this time of year."


    "So this is the sigil for the capital, then," Liv said, putting her hand on the one Master Grenfell had pointed out. "Andst we were here, you said it took twenty rings of mana to activate the waystone." Assuming everyone did their part, five rings wasn¡¯t a bother for her at this point.


    Master Grenfell put his hand on the sigil. "Remember, once it begins to glow blue, a slow count of two hundred. That should be enough for everyone to get back into their carriages."


    "And for anyone near the other end to get out of the way," Liv recalled.


    "Just so." Grenfell looked over to Matthew. "Go ahead, put your hand down with ours."


    Lady Julianne knelt opposite Master Grenfell, and ced her palm on the stone. Finally, across from Liv, Matthew reached out. For a moment, Liv wasn¡¯t certain how to begin. Next to her, Master Grenfell began to pour mana into the waystone, and it opened up like thin ice breaking. Liv¡¯s mana fell out of her before she could think to stop it, even more easily than when she used her staff to cast a spell. In fact, she wasn¡¯t certain if she would have been able to stop the process once it had begun.


    A momentter, a soft blue light began to rise from the waystone, beginning at the sigil they were touching and then spreading like mes over dry leaves. It shone brighter and brighter, and then Liv felt the pull on her mana ease.


    "There. Back to the carriages," Lady Julianne said, rising and leading the way herself. Liv scrambled after Master Grenfell, but they¡¯d both managed to sit and close the door of the carriage by the time her count reached one hundred and sixty. She was settled, face practically pressed against the window, well before she reached two hundred.


    There was a moment of hesitation, and Liv was just about to ask Master Grenfell whether something might be wrong, when the blue radianceing off the stone red into brilliant white. The light burned through everything, even Liv¡¯s eyelids when she closed them, and the world seemed to drop far away and grow very distant.


    Liv abruptly realized she was floating in a dark ce, though what ¡¯she¡¯ was precisely was unclear. Did she breathe? Did her heart beat? Was there anything to her at all?


    Suddenly, Liv drew in a deep breath, and sat up from where she¡¯d fallen against the carriage seat. She patted her legs and body, to make sure everything was still there. The fabric of her new skirt felt rough, as if her tender fingertips had never touched anything before in her life. "That is very strange," she said, and even her voice was wrong.


    "My own Master used to say that you don¡¯te back quite the same," Grenfell said. "Or rather, that the you that returns isn¡¯t quite the same as the one that left. The feeling will fade in a few moments, Liv."


    "What does it actually do, though," Liv asked. "I thought it would move us fast, maybe, or open a doorway, but that almost felt like-"


    "It feels like dying," Amelia Trafford said, looking out the window.


    Before Liv could ask the chirurgeon what she had meant, the carriage jerked and then rolled forward. Outside, the clomp of horse¡¯s hooves signalled that Baron Henry¡¯s guards were moving along with them. Liv sat up and looked out again.


    They were atop a hill or a rise, for to the west Liv could see the city falling away from them, down to thergest expanse of water she¡¯d ever seen. It went on and on, dark and specked with the white breakers of waves, to an endless horizon that was terrifyingly t. There were noforting mountains to cradle her world, and even the air here was different. Heavier and wetter, somehow, instead of clean and clear.


    They rolled off the waystone through a walled gate, and then out into a cobblestone street that led down the hill. Instantly, the carriage was bracketed on either side by crowds of people walking, talking, selling all manner of things.


    Between the people, and the endless expanse of the ocean, Liv shrunk back from the window into her bench.


    "Wee to the londs, Apprentice," Master Grenfell said, then sighed. "I already want to be back in the mountains."

 41. Freeport

    The capitol was at least twice the size of Whitehill, with street upon street of merchants¡¯ shops, houses, inns and taverns, and buildings that served no purpose that Liv had ever seen before.


    "What¡¯s that?" she asked, for probably the third time, jabbing her finger at the carriage window.


    "A theater," Master Grenfell said. "For an acting troupe to perform regrly."


    "An acting troupe?" She turned her face back into the carriage, looking between the mage and the chirurgeon.


    "I sometimes forget you¡¯ve never been out of the mountains," Mistress Trafford remarked. "Men who dress up in costume and act out a story on stage. The whole business is often quite rowdy and disreputable. We¡¯re not passing through the best part of town, at the moment."


    "Do you think we can go and see?" Liv wondered aloud, turning back to the window. Now that it had been mentioned, she did notice a few men who seemed obviously drunk, along with a beggar who¡¯d set up shop with his bowl at the end of an alley.


    "Certainly not without an escort," the chirurgeon told her. "You¡¯re a young woman under the care of House Summerset, and here in Freeport that means what you do will reflect on Baron Henry. While you haven¡¯t officially been adopted as a ward of the family, it¡¯s close enough people will treat you that way. You can¡¯t be seen in public some ce like that among the rabble. Perhaps in one of the boxes."


    The procession of carriage and mounted guards turned a corner onto a street that led downhill, toward the ocean. Now that Liv had time to examine it, she saw two arms ofnd stretching out to embrace the water, far enough away to just be visible along the outer edges of the horizon. "The bay must be enormous," she observed.


    "It is." Grenfell nodded. "No reefs this far north, like there are at Coral Bay, but there are several sandbars to break the worst of the surf. Three, if I recall correctly. To the south are the city docks, where fishers and trading ships weigh anchor. You can see them there," he said, leaning over to point out her window. Liv followed his finger to a forest of masts, all standing up from scores of ships tied up to the quays. Above, white birds circled low, as if hunting for something.


    "What¡¯s that to the north, then?" Liv asked.


    "The King¡¯s Port," Master Grenfell exined. "For the exclusive use of the royal family and their guests. Much smaller, and walled away from the rest of the city, along with the entire pcepound. We¡¯re going in that direction, though not inside."


    "Does Baron Henry own a house here?" Liv asked.


    "He does," Grenfell said. "Though he¡¯s rented it out for many years now. We are going to Acton House, where Lady Julianne lived as a young woman. It has remained in her possession, one of her wedding gifts from her father, if I recall correctly."


    Around them, the rather disreputable neighborhood of the theater gave way to walled estates and wide streets as the procession turned and made its way north. The houses were all at least three stories, if not four or five, and each was made entirely of stone, though they had far too many windows to be defended like a castle. Even the walls looked,pared to Castle Whitehill, rather ornamental. They were often of brick or iron, or perhaps of stone that matched the home they closed off, and some weren¡¯t even as tall as a man. Even here, however, there were signs of those less fortunate: a young girl with sunken cheeks and an old dress watched the procession pass with solemn eyes.


    Finally, the procession wheeled to the left and passed through a gate of wrought iron, where two guards held the way open for them. Beyond the gate was a circle paved with cobblestones, where the three carriages had plenty of room to pull to a halt in front of the house. The center of the circle was unpaved, and featured a marble fountain surrounded by a flower garden, now somewhat wilted in thete days of harvest season.


    The house itself was of white stone, with wide steps leading up to the door. It was four stories tall, with a wing extending out to either side, all surrounded by more gardens. Beyond the house, Liv could see the ocean, though the water looked somewhat distant and below their current height. Lined up to receive them were a dozen or more servants, including maids, cooks, and one portly man with a wild mop of white hair.


    Master Grenfell led the way out of the carriage, then extended a hand to help out first Mistress Trafford, and then Liv, who made certain to tuck her spellbook under her left arm and take her staff in the other.


    "Lady Julianne," the portly man eximed, opening his arms wide.


    "Basil!" Liv was surprised to see Julianne rush forward and embrace the man.


    "It¡¯s been far too long, mydy," Basil eximed, catching her by the shoulders so that he could examine her at arm¡¯s length. "You look well."


    "And you look like you¡¯ve gotten old," she teased him. "You remember my husband," Julianne said, stepping away from the portly man.


    "Baron Henry." Basil extended his hand, and Liv saw that the guards had already unpacked the litter which was used to transport the crippled man. Henry took the man¡¯s hand from his seated position.


    "Basil, this is our son, Matthew," Henry said, beckoning the young lord forward. "Basil is Steward of Acton House, and has been in your mother¡¯s service for many years."


    "It is my honor to meet you, Lord Matthew," Basil said. "We have all greatly looked forward to this day. Baron Henry, Lady Julianne, the house stands ready to receive you, and we are all at your service."


    "Excellent," Julianne said. "Rooms have been prepared for Master Grenfell and Mistress Trafford?" Basil offered his hand to the master mage first, and then proceeded to the chirurgeon.


    "Of course," he said. "I believe you will both find your chambers quite adequate. And I believe there was one more? You asked for a daughter¡¯s room to be prepared?"


    "Indeed," Julianne said, beckoning Liv forward. "This is Miss Brodbeck, Apprentice of the mages¡¯ guild. While she is not officially a ward of the family, that is how the staff should treat her."


    Basil¡¯s eyes flicked to Liv¡¯s ears, and she resisted the urge to flinch. Rather than say anything cruel, he took her hand and bowed over it. "Our young miss was always very kind," he said, meeting her eyes. "It does not surprise me at all to find she has taken in such a treasure. Ah! Archie, you old scoundrel! Get over here!"


    Liv blinked, unable to square her image of the first footman with the sight of Basil catching Archibald up in a bear hug and pounding him on the back. Indeed, Archibald stiffened for a moment, as if he might resist, but then relented and hugged Basil back.


    "I see you haven¡¯t changed a bit," Archibald muttered. "No sense of propriety whatsoever."


    "Not a bit!" Basil said. "I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve had a good partner at honours since you¡¯ve left."


    "No scandals this time," Henry warned the two of them.


    "Of course not!" Basil promised. "We¡¯re old men now, after all. Much more dignified. Come on in,e along, let¡¯s get you all settled."


    Liv found herself led up to the third floor by a mousy-looking maid who ushered her into a suite panelled in finely carved wood, with carpets, a small firece and mantel, end tables, a desk and chair, and oilmps ready to be lit. There were even two cushioned benches, like the one in Lady Julianne¡¯s room at Whitehill, for receiving guests. Beyond, through a doorway, she saw a four post bed already made and with the curtains drawn aside.


    "This can¡¯t be the correct room," Liv said, turning to the servant. "I¡¯m not actually a member of the family."


    "We were instructed to prepare the room meant for the eldest daughter of the house for Miss Brodbeck," the maid said.


    "It¡¯s too much," Liv muttered. This was more luxurious than any room at Castle Whitehill. It had been one thing to be told that Lady Julianne was the king¡¯s daughter, but now Liv was starting to get an inkling of just what sort of wealth she¡¯d grown up with.


    "If anything isn¡¯t up to your standards, mdy, just let me know and I¡¯ll have it fixed," the maid said. "I¡¯ll have your things unpacked shortly."


    "I¡¯m sorry," Liv said, turning away from the bed chamber. "Did you say you¡¯ll unpack my things?"


    "I¡¯m to be your maid while you¡¯re at Acton House," the woman said, curtsying. "Thora, at your service, mdy."


    "Your pardon," Liv said. "I¡¯m not used to having a maid. Please forgive me if I don¡¯t do things quite correctly." The sight of the bay caught her attention, and she walked over to the window to get a better look.


    Acton House, it turned out, was perched above the dunes, with a long stair of cut stones leading down from the gardens behind the house to the beach below. Liv couldn¡¯t imagine how much it had cost to wall the entire thing in, down to the sand. There, the wall turned inward, and a second iron gate closed off the stairs that led up to the house.


    "If you go down to bathe in the bay, be certain you take one of the guards," Thora cautioned her,ing up beside Liv to point out the window. "You can¡¯t build on the sand, really. So while the house is private, any one of the neighbors coulde wandering along the beach. Mostly it isn¡¯t a problem, since the houses to either side of us are all owned by families of good quality."


    "I don¡¯t need anyone to guard me," Liv said. Would the girl have urged Matthew to take someone for protection? He hadn¡¯t even been able to kill one of the blood-monsters, while she¡¯d taken care of two.


    "That¡¯s right, you¡¯re a mage, aren¡¯t you?" Thoramented. "That must be wonderful. I can¡¯t even imagine. Anyway, there¡¯ll be tea served in the library, when you¡¯re ready. I can show you the way?"


    "Please," Liv said. She almost - almost - set her staff against the wall in the corner. After all, the house was walled in and private, and Baron Henry had brought six of his best men, including Piers, whom she¡¯d known for years. But then she thought of the night at the Sign of the Terrapin, and kept it in her hand.


    "That¡¯s a magic staff, is it?" Thora asked her, as they descended the grand staircase to the second floor.


    "Not magic itself, really," Liv said, absently. Everywhere she looked were thick tapestries, sculptures on pedestals, and rich panelling of carved and polished wood. "It helps me to focus my mana, so that I don¡¯t waste so much when I cast a spell."


    "It¡¯s funny," Thora said. "You don¡¯t see most youngdies carrying one of those. Maybe because they haven¡¯t been to college yet? Here¡¯s the library, mdy. Ring if you need me."


    "Thank you, Thora," Liv said, and stepped through the door.


    The library could have fit four of the old baron¡¯s Room of Curiosities inside it. Every wall was stuffed full of books, with built-in shelves reaching up to the ceiling. A fire was banked in the hearth, and a low circr table had been set with a pot of tea, cups, and trays of snacks. Cushioned chairs and benches were arranged around the table, and two men rose when Liv entered.


    "Ah, my Apprentice," Master Grenfell said, reaching out an arm to invite Liv over. "I¡¯d like you to meet my nephew, Isaac Grenfell, Baron Ashford. Isaac, this is Liv Brodbeck."


    "A pleasure to meet you, my lord," Liv said, offering a curtsy. It still felt odd not to shorten the address, but she could practically feel Lady Julianne ring over her shoulder, even if the woman wasn¡¯t actually in the room. The baron took her hand and bowed.


    "Apprentice," he said, then released her. "I feel I know you from my uncle¡¯s letters." Isaac was clearly several decades younger than her teacher: where his hair was now more gray than ck, the younger Grenfell wore a neatly trimmed mustache and beard as dark as midnight. "If I had a son the right age, I would have brought him along," he said. "But my eldest is only ten. A pity. I was just bringing Uncle Kazimir up to date on how the council is shaping up."


    "Then don¡¯t let me stop you," Lady Julianne said, striding into the room. "My husband would greet you, Baron Isaac, but travel is difficult for him these days. He has retired to his rooms, but be assured that you are most wee."


    "Thank you, mydy," Isaac said, stepping forward to take Julianne¡¯s hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again. Duke Thomas will be here tomorrow, they say, and I imagine we¡¯ll all be meeting up once he¡¯s settled."


    "I intend to visit my father tonight," Julianne said. "Please, everyone, take a seat. I imagine my son will be down in a moment, but we don¡¯t need to wait for him." Liv made certain everyone else sat before she did, and then took it upon herself to pour tea, beginning with Lady Julianne. "Thank you, Liv," the baron¡¯s wife said.


    "The king rarely received visitors these days," Isaac said. "I must warn you, Julianne, your father has grown old in your absence. The man¡¯s over seventy. Most audiences these days are held by Queen Milicent or Prince Benedict."


    "My father will see me," Julianne said, with all the certainty of a rock tumbling down the mountainside.


    Isaac epted his tea, and shrugged. "As you say. It¡¯s good you brought Miss Brodbeck here; Princess Milisant is hosting tea for the youngdies of the court tomorrow. I don¡¯t have a daughter to send, but I suspect there will be just enough novelty about the apprentice, here, that she would be received."


    "The queen and the princess have the same name?" Liv asked, frowning. With everyone else served, she found a seat in one of the cushioned chairs.


    "Quite a statement, isn¡¯t it?" Isaac said, turning to offer her a smile. "Really tells you where Benedict¡¯s mind is at. He¡¯s more of a Sherard than anyone wants to say out loud."


    "House Sherard," Master Grenfell exined to Liv, "is the queen¡¯s family. Be cautious around them."


    "You might as welle out and say it, Uncle," Isaac broke in. "They¡¯re snakes." The door to the library opened, and everyone looked up to see who it was. Liv let out a breath when she saw it was Matthew.


    "Ah, good," Julianne said. "Isaac, this is my son, Matthew. He¡¯ll be off to Coral Bay shortly. Matthew, this is Isaac Grenfell, Baron Ashford."


    "A pleasure to meet you, young man," Isaac said, rising to sp Matthew¡¯s hand in his own. Liv leaned forward, lifted the teapot from the table, and poured another cup, which she handed to Matthew as he came over to take a seat.


    "If we¡¯re to send Liv to a tea at the pce, I need the seamstress this afternoon, rather than tomorrow," Lady Julianne said, reiming her seat. "Matthew, you will escort her there, with two of the guards. It will give you a chance to meet some of the young women of the court when you drop her off and pick her up. Perhaps you can even bump shoulders with some of their brothers, while you¡¯re at it."


    "Yes, Mother," Matthew said, leaning back in his chair. "Don¡¯t be looking to marry me quite yet, though. There¡¯s plenty of time for that after college. I want to do some travelling first."


    "If there¡¯s an alliance to be made to help the family, you¡¯ll do it withoutint," his mother shot back. "That¡¯s enough about our enemies, Isaac. What friends do we haveing?"


    "Thomas Falkenrath, of course," Baron Isaac said. "Miss Brodbeck, I imagine you¡¯ll meet his daughter, Cecily, tomorrow at tea. The Crosbie¡¯s have been at it with the Trading Guild; I think with a bit of work, we could have their vote. If you had a second son, we could wrap up the Corbett¡¯s, but that¡¯s right out. What Duke Richard will do is anyone¡¯s guess, but I can¡¯t see why he would side with the guilds over us."


    "I thought we were meeting about the monsters," Liv said. Everyone turned to look at her, and she flushed. "I mean, because of the fire in the sky, and the blood-things rampaging through the countryside."


    "That¡¯s why King Rnd called for a great council, certainly," Isaac said. "But once the politics begin, they won¡¯t stop at that. My people tell me the guilds finally have enough votes to make their push."


    "Their push?" Liv asked. Any talk of the guilds always made her think of the old mayor, Alban Cooper, and how he¡¯d tried to take advantage of her.


    "For seats on the great council," Lady Julianne exined. "They¡¯ve been trying for thirty years, and for thirty years they¡¯ve been put off. But money can buy a great many things, and I fear it¡¯s finally bought them enough influence to make their y."


    "This whole ce is a snakepit," Master Grenfell said.


    "Are you starting to understand, Liv, why I was so eager to flee to the mountains?" Julianne asked. "There¡¯s no helping it, however. Now we¡¯re here, it¡¯s time to sharpen our knives. Matthew, Liv, you¡¯ll both have your parts to y, and that begins tomorrow."

 42. In Need of a Daughter

    "I can¡¯t wear this," Liv protested. "I¡¯m amazed no one has everined when I wore merchant dresses, but this is a step even beyond that."


    The overskirt was blue, edged in whitece, while the bodice was as pure white as the underskirt, with blue trim to match. The shoulders were blue, as well, while the sleeves were a pale yellow with gold thread, and the entire thing rested on crinoline hoops that pushed out over her hips and rear. Melody, the seamstress who hade - not the one Julianne had been looking for, but her daughter - fussed around Liv, pinning the skirts up where they touched the floor.


    "You can¡¯t very well attend Princess Milisant¡¯s tea dressed as a guildswoman or a peasant," Julianne responded, taking a sip of tea. "And I need you to go there, because I can¡¯t go myself. I¡¯m a generation too old."


    "Matthew-"


    "My son can deliver you and retrieve you when it¡¯s all over, but he can¡¯t stay," Julianne said. "No, for this particr event, I find myself in need of a daughter."


    "I¡¯m sorry you don¡¯t have one," Liv said. She waited in silence while Melody helped her back out of the dress, piece by piece, and folded it all up. The crinoline hoops were set aside forter. Finally, she was left in her shift and stockings.


    "You can have it altered for tomorrow?" Julianne asked the seamstress, while Liv reached for her everyday dress.


    "I will, your highness," Melody said, gathering up her measuring tapes, pins, and te.


    "None of that," Juliannemanded. "It¡¯s ¡¯mydy,¡¯ Melody. Anything more than that could get you in a great deal of trouble. Give my best to your mother, now."


    With a curtsy, the seamstress hurried out. Once the door was closed, Lady Julianne set her tea aside and rose. "I need to prepare to visit my father," she said. "If all goes well, I will have something for you in the morning. You must be certain to see me before you leave. Here, let me help you with that." Julianne came up behind Liv and took theces of her bodice in hand.


    "Thank you," Liv said, pulling her hair off her neck and holding it in front of her, so that it would be out of the way. "You¡¯ve done so much for me, mdy," she said, then corrected herself before she could be caught. "Mydy. Apologies. I¡¯ll help you if I can. But it¡¯s against thew for anyone not noble born to wear colors like those."


    "Aw that I believe has done more harm than good," Julianne grumbled. "I argued against it. All it did was insult the guilds, and now we all have to deal with the results. You reap what you sow. There, you¡¯re tied."


    Liv stepped away, picked up her shoes, and sat on the bench so that she could get them on. "All the same, I can¡¯t be of much help to you if I¡¯m arrested."


    "Leave that to me," Julianne assured her.


    "And I don¡¯t even understand what you want me to do." Liv stood up, shoes secured.


    "I want you to listen, that¡¯s all," the baron¡¯s wife said. "Make a friend or two, if you can. Cecily Falkenrath would be a good beginning. Be cautious of the princess, however, or any of her family. But Milisant is the one to listen to the most, and those who cozy up to her. When my son picks you up, you are toe directly back here and report to me on what you¡¯ve heard."


    "I¡¯m your spy, then," Liv realized. "It might help if I knew what you were looking for."


    "You can¡¯t give away what you don¡¯t know, my dear," Julianne said. "Safer this way, for you and me both. Do you trust me?"


    Liv sighed, and looked the woman over. Like everyone else, it seemed, the baron¡¯s wife had only gotten older. There were lines at the corners of her eyes, now, and Liv thought she could see traces of gray at the roots of her dark hair. "You¡¯ve always looked after me when you could," she said. "Gave me a home, seen to it that I was taught just like one of your own children. I trust you."


    "Good." Julianne reached a hand up and rested it on Liv¡¯s cheek. "Come and sit next to me over breakfast. I¡¯ll have more to tell you then." Liv nodded, the hand dropped away, and she took her leave, fetching her staff on the way out. Thora, who¡¯d been stationed outside the door to Lady Julianne¡¯s chambers, peeled herself off the wall and fell into step at Liv¡¯s heels.


    ncing at the horologe in the hall, Liv saw that she had nearly a bell before dinner, with nothing in particr to do. At Castle Whitehill, she might have gone down to the kitchens, to help her mother or sing songs with Gretta, but here she wouldn¡¯t know any of the cooks or kitchen maids.


    "Can you show me the way down to the sea?" Liv asked the maid.


    "Aye, mdy," Thora said. "We can pick up one of the guards along the way."


    "No need," Liv said. "I can take care of myself."


    That wasn¡¯t the end of it, of course: Liv had to insist twice more, at various stages of the process, before the two women got their feet onto the stone steps at the back of the gardens. Once they were making their way down the bluff, however, the wind off the water was loud enough that Liv could pretend she didn¡¯t hear the maid¡¯s protests.


    "This is so strange," Liv remarked, once she¡¯d made it to the foot of the stairs. She sat down on thest step, pulled off her shoes and her stockings, and then stepped onto the sandy beach.


    "Nothing like this up in the mountains?" Thora asked her with a nervous smile.


    Liv shook her head. "We have the river, and that¡¯s sandy along the banks, and there are a fewkes, but those are more like sucking mud at the bottom than this." She couldn¡¯t help but grin at the way the grains of sand shifted against her toes and the bare soles of her feet. "I didn¡¯t think the water would smell so strongly," she admitted.


    "I heard someone was staying in that old house up there," a boy¡¯s voice broke in, over the crashing of the waves. "My good luck the family includes a pretty daughter."


    Liv spun, nearly slipped on the sand, and caught her bnce by putting her weight on her staff. Standing where the waves met the sand was a young man, dark haired and dark eyed, with sharp features. He was barefoot, as well, having presumably discarded his shoes and hose somewhere back along the way.


    "My apologies," he said. "I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. Cade Talbot, mydy. My family¡¯s house is two down that way." He pointed south along the shore.


    "Liv," she said, until Thora nudged her with a sharp elbow. Then, she offered her hand, and Cade took it. The casual ease of the way he bowed while holding her fingers would have been plenty enough clue to tell her that he was noble born, even if he hadn¡¯t said his family owned a house in this part of the city.


    "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Liv," Cade said. He kept her hand just a little too long, smiling up at her and holding her eyes with his own, and she felt her cheeks getting hot.


    "I should get back up to the house," Liv said. "I¡¯ll be wanted for dinner soon."


    "Of course," the boy said. "I won¡¯t keep you. But it¡¯s nice to have a neighbor who is about the same age. I oftene down in the morning to bathe. Perhaps I¡¯ll see you."


    "Perhaps," Liv said. "Good day to you, Master Talbot. Come along, Thora." They were halfway up the stairs before Liv thought to look for her shoes and stockings, but thankfully the maid had brought them along. When she looked down at the beach, Cade Talbot was still down there, a dark blot upon the sand. He raised his hand once, and she turned away to scamper up the stairs.


    ?


    Lady Julianne was not at dinner that evening.


    "Your mother is dining with the king," Baron Henry exined when Matthew asked about it. That left six of them, for Isaac Grenfell had stayed the entire afternoon, catching up with his uncle. The cooks had prepared them a first course that consisted of a creamy soup, full of chunks of potato, crispy bacon, and some sort of shellfish that Liv had never tasted before. There were open shells, as well, stuffed with some sort of spiced breading and set with a thick slice of butter on top, to melt and get wonderfully gooey. The wine was white, rather than red.


    "Do you think the cooks would mind terribly if I asked them for these recipes?" Liv asked Archibald, when he brought in the second course. "Oh my. What is this?"


    The first footman set before each of them, in turn, a bread bowl filled with another kind of soup, smooth and a yellow so rich and deep it was nearly orange. The entire thing was topped with chunks of red fish of some kind. "This is lobster, mdy," Archibald told her. "And I will inquire downstairs."


    "Thank you," Liv told him, unable to restrain her grin. She waited until everyone had been served: for some reason, she wasn¡¯tst. That particr honor went to Mistress Trafford. Instead, she¡¯d been served right after Matthew. The soup was thick, rich and buttery, and she couldn¡¯t help but moan in delight when she tasted it.


    "We¡¯re going to have to arrange for mana-enriched food," Master Grenfell remarked, while everyone dug in. "I checked with the cook, and they didn¡¯t make a practice of keeping it on hand while they only had the staff to feed."


    "It¡¯ll be expensive," Baron Isaac said. "With so many householdsing into the city for the great council. Might be better to not worry about it."


    "That¡¯s my fault, isn¡¯t it," Liv said, putting her spoon down to take a sip of wine. "I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m the only one who really needs it, and now I¡¯m going to put you out, my lord."


    "While it may be true that only you absolutely require that kind of food," Baron Henry answered, "I think it best for us to be prepared at all times for any eventuality. I would rather invest a few crowns now, so that we don¡¯t find ourselves short mana when we need it. Do not concern yourself with it any further, Miss Brodbeck. How are you settling in?"


    "You went down to the beach, didn¡¯t you?" Matthew asked. "I saw youing back up the stairs. I wish you¡¯d waited for me, Liv. I want to dip my toes in the water, too."


    "I did, yes," Liv admitted. "Oh, and I met someone down there. A Master Talbot. He said his family had the house two down, I believe."


    "Talbot, is it?" Baron Henry looked over to Isaac. "The Talbots are sworn to the Duke of Carinthia, if I recall correctly. Do I have that right?"


    "So far as I can remember," the baron of Ashford said. "I¡¯ll ask around about the boy. Older than you, or younger, Liv?"


    "Um, hard to say," Liv admitted. "I¡¯m not - well, my age is a bitplicated. Younger than Matthew by a few years, I believe. Maybe three or four?"


    "I¡¯d like to meet him," Matthew said.


    "That sounds like a good idea," his father agreed. "Do you think he¡¯ll be down there again, Liv? Did he say?"


    "He said he bathes in the ocean every morning, and that he hoped to see me down there," she said.


    "Now I really want to get the measure of him," Matthew said.


    "Consider it one of your tasks tomorrow," Henry told him firmly. "Rise early enough to go down with Liv and get an opinion of this boy with your own eyes. Then, you¡¯ll be escorting Liv to tea at the pce, and picking her up again when it¡¯s over. I know your mother will have instructions for you tomorrow. Now, let¡¯s see what we have for dessert."


    ?


    Liv didn¡¯t see Lady Julianne¡¯s carriage return that evening. Her rooms faced the wrong side of the property, which meant she went to sleep to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, rather than carriages passing in the street. In the morning, she found that Thora had already taken delivery of the blue dress, which she supposed was one less thing she needed to worry about.


    As soon as she rose, Liv threw a robe over her shift, shoes on her feet, and met Matthew heading out through the rear garden. He was wearing a linen shirt and breeches, but no hose, and his hair was still wild from the night¡¯s sleep.


    "Piers will being with us," Matthew said, and Liv nodded to the guardsman. He wasn¡¯t wearing a jack of te, but he did have a rapier at his hip. With Thora carrying a pile of towels, that made four of them on an expedition down the stone stairs that wound back and forth along the bluff. When they got to the bottom, a young man waved from the water, bare-chested.


    "Come on down!" Cole Talbot called to them over the surf. "It¡¯s warm enough once you¡¯re in."


    Matthew pulled his shirt off, and began to untie his breeches. "What are you doing?" Liv hissed, turning around.


    "What did you expect us to swim in, then?" Matthew said, and then she heard his feet pounding across the sand before a great ssh signalled he¡¯d made it to the water.


    Liv looked to Thora in panic. "What do I do?" she asked. "Ladies don¡¯t-"


    "No," Thora assured her. "Ladies bathe in their shifts, mdy. I¡¯ll just take your shoes and stockings."


    "I can do that," Liv decided. She sat down on thest stair to peel her stockings off, handed them to the maid, and then scampered across the sand down into the waves. When the surf broke about her ankles, she couldn¡¯t help but shriek. "I thought you said it wasn¡¯t cold!"


    "Ironic for you toin about that," Matthew called back to her, a wide grin on his face. "Come on, then, introduce me to your friend!"


    Liv took a deep breath, then pushed her way in. The shift ballooned up around her, soaking through in an instant, and she dove forward to get it over with. When she came up, she had to pull her hair back out of her face.


    "This is your brother, then," Cade said, swimming over to her. "Cade Talbot." He stood up in the water, exposing most of his chest and belly, and extended his hand.


    "Matthew Summerset," the other young man answered, standing and sping the hand in his own. "A pleasure. This is quite a way to wake up."


    "Isn¡¯t it, though?" Cade let himself fall back into the waves, until he was once again submerged to the neck. "As I told Liv the other afternoon, it¡¯s good to have a few people of my own age and ss around."


    "No brothers or sisters, then?" Matthew asked.


    Cade shook his head, and the shadow of an old pain flickered behind his eyes. "No. My mother didn¡¯t survive her secondbor."


    "I¡¯m so sorry to hear that," Liv said. Before she could think better of it, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.


    "It was a long time ago," the dark-haired boy said. "I hardly even remember her. Come on then, don¡¯t let me ruin the morning!" With a t hand, he sshed a spray of water in Matthew¡¯s direction, and before she knew it, Liv was caught in the middle of a vicious battle, all three of themughing and shrieking.


    ?


    "What¡¯s the report on this boy, then?" Baron Henry asked a bellter, over the morning meal.


    "Only child, like me," Matthew answered. "Mother¡¯s dead. He behaved himself while I was there, at least. He¡¯s probably about the age Liv looks to be."


    "I can find that out one way or another," Lady Julianne said. "Put him aside, for the moment. Two of my goals in meeting my fatherst evening were aplished. Matthew, you¡¯re to be presented to your grandfather. He wants to meet you at least once before you go off to Coral Bay. Wants it a great deal, I think. His age is catching up with him, and I suspect he knows it might be hisst chance."


    "Of course," Matthew said, awkwardly. "I¡¯ll be happy to meet the king."


    "The other matter was about you, Liv," Julianne said, reaching her hand up and snapping her fingers. Basil, the steward of the house, must have been waiting for the signal, because he stepped over and ced a piece of parchment in her hand. The baron¡¯s wife set it out on the table, where Liv could read it.


    "What is this?" she asked, scanning through the overly formal and archaic sentences that made up the bulk of the writing.


    "I asked my father to approve and seal a petition for legal adoption," Julianne said. "Liv, you know that my husband and I can¡¯t have any more children. Since the moment you first came to my attention, you¡¯ve proved you have the wit and courage to support our family. You saved my life, and the life of my son, when you were just a girl. I¡¯m not going to send you off to the pce this afternoon without the shield of a family name. If you sign this, you will be legally recognized as my adopted daughter, and a member of this family."


    Basil ced a quill and a pot of ink in front of Liv, and she dropped her fork. It ttered off the table, then across the floor, while everyone looked at her, waiting to see what she said.

 43. Flowers in the Garden

    "I¡¯m sorry," Liv said, pushing her chair back and bending down to find her fork. "I¡¯m sorry, I just-"


    "The footmen will get it," Lady Julianne said. "It¡¯s alright, Liv. Leave the fork."


    Under the table, at least no one was staring at her. Liv sucked in a breath and held it. In, hold, out. It was usually so good for calming her down, but sooner orter she was going to have to sit up, and the thought of doing that filled her with panic. The longer she hid, the more she must look like an idiot.


    Liv left the fork on the floor, wherever it had tumbled off to, and sat up. She tried to rx, but she could feel her shoulders hunching anyway. This urge to make herself smaller, to be unnoticed, had never really gone away from the time that she was small.


    "Perhaps we should give Liv a chance to get her thoughts together," Baron Henry suggested, his voice softer than she could recall ever hearing before. "It is quite arge decision. Liv, you don¡¯t need to make a choice right now. And I believe you have quite a bit to do to get ready for tea."


    Lady Julianne shook herself, and smiled. "Of course. I¡¯m sorry dear, I didn¡¯t mean to put you on the spot. I wasn¡¯t certain my father would approve, and I wanted to let you know first thing. But even just having this piece of paper ready will help us to protect you."


    "Thank you," Liv managed. "I- it¡¯s just, I wasn¡¯t expecting this. It¡¯s quite a surprise. And you¡¯re right, my lord, I do have a lot to do. I know Thora wants to do my hair, and - well, wait a moment. What do I say, if someone asks me? Is the princess going to know?"


    "She may," Lady Julianne said. "It wouldn¡¯t surprise me; little remains secret for long in the pce. If someone asks, Liv, just tell the truth. We¡¯ve offered to adopt you, it¡¯s quite a shock, and you¡¯re taking a bit of time to decide what you want to do."


    "I will." Liv stood up. "May I be excused?"


    "You may," Baron Henry said. "Matthew, stay behind. I want to talk with you a bit about your role this afternoon."


    Liv snatched her staff up and practically fled the dining room, but she wasn¡¯t able to get far enough down the hall to avoid hearing Lady Julianne¡¯s voice: "I don¡¯t understand, Henry. I thought she¡¯d be happy-"


    Thora, waiting beside Sophie outside the dining room, fell into step at Liv¡¯s heels. "Are we heading upstairs, mdy? I¡¯ll have a bath drawn, and we can do your hair. Did you have enchanted pipes up there in the mountains?"


    "No," Liv said. "We had hot springs. Why don¡¯t you get it started, Thora. I¡¯m just going to take a bit of air in back."


    "You shouldn¡¯t go alone, mdy," Thora protested.


    Alone, of course, was exactly what Liv wanted to be. She picked up her pace and tore out through the gardens, leaving Thora to scramble for one of the half dozen guards that had apanied the family from Whitehill. By the time the man had made it halfway down the stairs, Liv was on the beach. She didn¡¯t recall his name, but at least he was kind enough to wait for her at the bottom of the steps, and give her a bit of privacy.


    Liv looked up and down the strand, but there was no one in sight, not even Cade Talbot. She wasn¡¯t certain whether she felt relieved or disappointed at the dark-haired boy¡¯s absence.


    ?


    Eventually, Liv was left with no choice but to allow Thora to coax her up to her rooms. Rather than a wooden tub lined with linen, the bathing facilities here at Acton House were much newer. A great ck cast iron tub, connected to y water pipes, dominated the small bathing room attached to her bed chamber. The pipes ran up the wall, and disappeared into the ceiling.


    "There¡¯s a great cistern on the roof," Thora exined. "With sand, charcoal, and gravel to filter the rainwater. Don¡¯t ask me how the magic part works, though." She opened the tap at the end of the pipes, and steaming hot water poured out into the tub.


    "There must be a sigil inscribed into the y," Liv spected. "Using a word of power that heats the water as it passes through."


    "I¡¯m told the pipers¡¯ guild had to get a license from two different families to make it all work," Thora said. "But I couldn¡¯t tell you which. In you go, mdy, so I can brush your hair."


    Liv had never had a maid before, which meant she¡¯d washed herself ever since she was old enough to do so. The memories of her mother bathing her as a child were old ones, and more fragmentary glimpses than anything specific. She found, to her surprise, that there was something rxing about being tended to.


    First, Thora scattered a handful of herbs into the water as the tub filled. Liv could smell sage and camomile, and she also noticed small shavings of orange peel floating in the water as it rose. "I¡¯m going to smell like a garden by the time this is done," Liv grumbled, as she stepped into the tub. The maid gathered her hair and held it up, so that once Liv had settled into a sitting position, it was hanging over the side of the iron tub. Then, Thora set to work with a brush, and Liv found herself lulled nearly to sleep, eyes closed, by the hot water and the gentle rhythm of her hair being cared for.


    Afterword, in a clean shift, Liv sat at her desk with her hand-copied volume of Semhis Thorn-Killer¡¯s diary, while Thora piled her hair up onto her head and pinned it in ce. She looked over the spells that Baron Henry¡¯s ancestor had recorded. If she did agree to the adoption, did that mean that the Summersets would teach her to use their word of power?


    She assumed so, if the intent was for her to truly be part of the family. The word itself, however, did not fill Liv with a great deal of enthusiasm. Ters was a word that did only a very few things, though it did them well. One could use it to dry out their clothes, of course, but there was little reason to use high magic for that when the drying charm existed. It could also be used to pull all of the water or juice out of any kind of meat or fruit, resulting in travel rations that kept for a very long time. Henry had set Matthew to doing that as practice, and Liv had even tasted a few of the results.


    Ters could also be used to dry green wood, another practical application. But those things aside - it was a word of power that killed. It turned out that all living things responded to sudden, urgent thirst and dehydration in pretty much exactly the same manner: they shrivelled and died. And that was the problem.


    Liv could think of a dozen ways to trap, distract, trip, bind, or wound using ice. She could kill something - and she had, when a stonebat had charged her. But she could also protect people behind an icewall, or make a chute from the top of a mountain to the bottom, so that children could ride shields down. Ters seemed to either be good for dull things that she would never want to waste her time doing - even if she could admit they were quite practical - or for killing one¡¯s enemies without a shred of mercy. All told, she wasn¡¯t certain she actually wanted to learn that kind of word of power.


    "There you are, mdy," Thora said, finally. "Take a look." Liv closed her book and set it aside so that she could examine herself in the hand mirror the maid had brought over. The sides of her hair, from just above her ears up, had been woven into two braids, then pulled back to hold the rest of her hair, which fell loose down her back. The braids were held in ce with ornate silver cuffs, set with pearls, and the entire affair had been so thoroughly brushed that every strand gleamed a brilliant white. It left her ears exposed, but Liv supposed there was no help for that.


    "Herdyship has sent over a few pieces of matching jewelry, to go with it," Thora told her. She fastened a carc, consisting of three rows of white pearls, around Liv¡¯s neck: it looked as if it should choke her, in the mirror, but was actually quitefortable. There was a silver and pearl bracelet to match, for her left wrist. "It¡¯s a pity your ears aren¡¯t pierced," Thora said. "Or we could do studs there, as well."


    "Scullions don¡¯t tend to pierce their ears," Liv pointed out. "They wouldn¡¯t have anything to wear, if they did."


    "You¡¯re not a scullion any longer, mdy," Thora said. "Hard to believe you ever were."


    When the dress was on and properly arranged, Liv was forced to agree. "I look like a princess or something," she said, spinning once before the standing mirror to watch her blue overskirt swish.


    "They¡¯re even fancier," Thora told her with a grin. "Let¡¯s get you downstairs, mdy."


    ?


    Matthew was waiting for her at the carriage, wearing a green doublet and a rapier at his belt. He grinned when he saw her, and offered Liv a hand up. "I don¡¯t know how you can move in skirts like that," he teased her. "But you look good, Liv, all done up."


    "Thank you," Liv said, with a smile. She set her staff in the corner, and straightened her skirts while he climbed in and pulled the door closed. For a moment, she wondered if the boy on the beach would agree with him, and then the horses were off and the carriage in motion.


    "Mother wanted me to remind you," Matthew said, "that anything the princess says is worth paying attention to. Any talk of the guilds, or voting, she wants to know as well. And anything about the session."


    Liv nodded, turning her mage guild ring on her finger. Out of all the jewelry she was wearing right now, it felt like the only piece she¡¯d actually earned. "Three things isn¡¯t so much to remember," she said.


    "I¡¯ll walk you in," Matthew exined, "say a few pleasantries, and then leave you be. I¡¯lle back at the end to pick you up, as well. Likely say a few words to the other brothers, on our way in and out."


    "I¡¯m to be your sister, then," Liv couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    "You might as well have been already," Matthew remarked, as the carriage took a turn. "I¡¯ve known you my whole life. And it¡¯s been clear this was what my mother wanted for a long time, hasn¡¯t it? I mean, she gave you rooms meant for a daughter, both here and back home. I expect the only reason it hasn¡¯t happened before now was that we hadn¡¯te to Freeport."


    Liv looked out the window. Everyone else had seen thising, apparently - everyone but her. They were all ready to wee her into their family. In most ways, they already had. Did Mama know, too? Had she realized what was going to happen when she¡¯d said goodbye? What would she think if her daughter came back a Summerset instead of a Brodbeck?


    She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn¡¯t realize they had reached the pce until Matthew scrambled out of the carriage and offered his hand to help her down. When he saw her pull her staff out and take it in hand, he grinned.


    "I don¡¯t think there¡¯ll be any drunks at tea, Liv."


    "Let¡¯s hope there won¡¯t be anything worse," she said, and turned to look over the pce. It wasn¡¯t quite what she¡¯d expected: for one thing, it looked to be of much more recent construction than Castle Whitehill.


    The carriage hade down a longne, paved with cobblestones, which looped around a great fountain. To every side, extensive gardens andwns spread out, taking up so much space that she couldn¡¯t even see the walls that surrounded the grounds.


    Where the Summersets¡¯ castle was built for war, and onlyter adapted forfort, the pce at Freeport was made of red bricks, neatlyid in ornamental patterns. It looked to be perhaps four stories, and the crions struck Liv as more for show than for use. There weren¡¯t any curtain walls, or a moat, or even a proper keep, and there were far too many windows to be defensible in the event of a nearby eruption.


    As Liv was looking over the building, another carriage pulled up behind them. Rather than a young man getting out first, a blonde woman wearing tight breeches and a doublet, with a sword on her hip, hopped out entirely without aid.


    "Hello, then," Matthew said, turning to greet her. Liv was forced to follow, given that she was holding onto his arm. "Is it the new fashion fordies to wear a de?"


    "I don¡¯t give a fig about the fashion," the woman told him with a grin. "You have any idea how to use that sword you¡¯re wearing, or is it just for show?"


    "Perhaps you could find out sometime," Matthew shot back, and Liv was probably thest to realize they were flirting.


    "Triss Crosbie," the woman with the sword introduced herself, extending her hand like a man. "Well, Beatrice, but that¡¯s a mouthful."


    "Matthew Summerset, and this is Liv Brodbeck," he responded. Liv noticed that he held onto Beatrice¡¯s hand for a moment longer than he would have done if she were a man. The girl looked to be of an age with Matthew, which meant that she filled out those breeches in a way that was positively scandalous.


    "Your betrothed?" Triss asked him.


    Matthew shook his head. "My sister. Well, soon, at any rate. Mother just got the papers signed by the kingst evening."


    "My congrattions, in that case," Triss said, extending her hand to Liv, who took it.


    "Thank you. Shall we head in?" Liv asked. There was something about this girl she didn¡¯t like.


    "Of course. Lady Beatrice, would you allow me to escort you both in?" Matthew asked, lifting his left arm.


    Trissughed. "Why not. Off we go then." She wrapped her arm around Matthew¡¯s, and together the three of them proceeded down the garden path where pce servants waited. They were ushered along to an eight-sided pavilion, with stairs leading up to a wooden deck where tables and chairs had been set up. On the tables were pots of tea and tters of tarts, cakes, fresh fruits and sliced cheese of many kinds. Around the edges of the gathering were half a dozen footmen and maids, but most of the youngdies had stepped down into the garden, where they were gathered in a cluster.


    "Lady Beatrice Crosbie," the footman who had escorted them in announced, with a voice that rung out across the garden. "And Apprentice Liv Brodbeck, of the mages¡¯ guild. Both escorted by Lord Matthew Summerset, of Whitehill."


    "Get over here then, Triss," a dark haired young woman dressed in purple, with matching rings, bracelets, and ne of emeralds set in gold, called out. "Princess Milly¡¯s challenged us all to the game of flowers, and it¡¯s my turn."


    "I¡¯ll leave you both here, then," Matthew said. "Liv, I¡¯ll be back for you at the fourth bell. I hope I see you then, too, Lady Crosbie."


    "Maybe you will, and maybe you won¡¯t," Triss told him with a grin. "Come along then, Liv." The girl with the sword grabbed Liv by the hand before she knew what was happening, and pulled her away from Matthew. "Watch," she said.


    Liv cast onest nce back at Matthew, but he was already striding away up the path to where they¡¯d left the carriage. With nothing to do but plunge in, she turned back to the group of girls.


    There were perhaps a dozen, all told, ranging between those who looked just a bit younger than Liv, to those who looked about the same age as Matthew. Other than Triss Crosbie, they were all wearing dresses in a simr fashion to the one Lady Julianne had procured for Liv, so in that respect at least she didn¡¯t stand out. She could feel the eyes on her, however, and she was very aware of how obvious the tips of her ears must be. The other girls were also, down to thest one, taller.


    One of the youngest girls, with dark hair, held a rose made of pure fire above her hand, grinning. Each individual petal or thorn was picked out in shades of scarlet, orange and bright yellow. "Beat that, then, Cecily," she said, with a grin.


    "So long as her highness doesn¡¯t mind the damage to her garden," the dark haired girl in purple said, looking over to a younger blonde.


    "It¡¯s part of the game," the girl, presumably Princess Milisant, said with a distinctck of interest. "The gardeners will fix it. We might as well get some work out of them, with how much we spend on their wages."


    Cecily bent her knees, gathering her skirts with her left hand, and traced a finger along the neatly trimmed grass. "Necet Greium Belia," she intoned. Where the girl¡¯s finger passed, the grass withered and died, leaving an outline in withered yellow, picked out against the vibrant green of thewn. Fingerstroke by fingerstroke, she drew a flower in death. "There," the girl said, standing back up. "Someone beat that."


    "Why don¡¯t you give it a try, Apprentice Brodbeck?" the princess asked. "After all, you¡¯re the only one here who is already a member of the mages¡¯ guild. Give us a demonstration of your magic. I¡¯m sure we¡¯re all absolutely dying of curiosity."


    For the second time that day, Liv found herself pinned by the gaze of everyone around her.

 44. The Meaning of a Glove

    Liv thought that she would have given just about anything to have a single friend in the garden right at that moment.  She looked from face to face, and saw that the girls'' expressions ranged from curiosity, to disinterest, to the sort of predatory look one might glimpse in the eyes of a hunting cat.


    "I don''t believe I''ve ever yed this game before," Liv said.  "Perhaps someone could exin the rules."  At the very least, it would give her time to think.


    "It''s a game of intent," Princess Milisant said.  "Surely your time in the guild has taught you a great deal about visualizing your intent, when using a word of power.  I expect you''re better than all of us.  Make the most impressive flower, using your own word of power."


    "What decides the winner?" Liv asked.  "Size?  Detail?"


    "It''s usually fairly obvious," Cecily Falkenrath said, strolling back up the stairs to the table, where she retrieved a cup of tea and took a sip.  "When it isn''t, we settle things with a vote at the end."


    "Some of us," Triss Crosbie remarked, "don''t have words that are very useful for the game.  You can think of me as an impartial vote."  She headed over to the table to snatch up a fruit tart of some kind.


    "I''m not certain I know the word for flower," Liv said.  "It''s not really something I''ve studied."  After all, what use was there, precisely, in a spell to make pretty flowers?  Was that going to distract a stonebat, a violent drunk, or some sort of strange blood monster?


    "Belia," Milisant offered.  "You should be able to construct a spell based on that, shouldn''t you?"


    "That isn''t flower, it''s ''bowl," Liv protested.


    "Actually, it can be used for either," a young girl in spectacles spoke up.  "Not every word has a single meaning, even in the way we speak today.  You can hear a dog bark, or scrape the bark off a tree, for instance.  You can say someone rose from their seat, or that they plucked a rose.  There''s quite a few homonyms, actually, though I''m not certain Belia is a proper example, because there seems to be sort of a symbolic meaning, in that flowers hold nectar, while bowls hold something like soup-"


    "Enough, Sidonie," the princess snapped.  "No one wants to hear it."  The girl in sses wilted as easily as the grass under Cecily''s finger.  "The fact the word has more than one meaning is part of the game.  People who don''t know what they''re doing mess it up."


    "And what do I win?" Liv asked.  "Bragging rights?"


    "Millie''s offered her first dance at the ball as a prize," Cecily said, from inside the pavilion.  "So we''re ying for our brothers, or cousins in some cases.  I hope you win; Thurston has two left feet."


    "Of couse, you don''t have a brother, do you?" the princess asked Liv, as if it had just urred to her.  "We''ll have to think of something else, I suppose.  How about a new gown?  I can''t imagine you have very many."


    Liv gritted her teeth, but did her best to keep her face neutral.  "No need to change things for me," she said.  "If I win, I''ll choose one of thesedies to take the prize."  Lady Julianne had told her to make friends, after all.


    "Go ahead then," Princess Milisant urged.


    Liv nted her staff in front of her shoes, and wrapped both hands around it.  She closed her eyes and practiced her breathing exercises.  She could use the calm, but she could also use a moment topose the incantation in her mind and build the image of what she wanted.  She knew just the flower, and she could picture a whole field of them in the meadows of the Aspen River Valley.


    "Celet Belia," Liv began, holding out her staff to touch the ground in front of her.  The sigils red to life, silver-white, and, guided by her intent, a frozen stalk began to rise, rooted at the point where the butt of the staff touched thewn.  She built the stalk until it was chest high, then allowed five petals to re out, each slightly pointed.  Liv kept the ice thin there, but when she built the nextyer, she thickened it to make the rounded inner petals as close to white as she could get.  When she''d built the delicate stamen, rising up from the center, it was recognizably a blue columbine - to her, at least.


    "Very nice," Trissmented, and scattered apuse rang out from the small audience.


    "I''m not finished," Liv said, and then let more mana spill out of her into the staff.  "Celent Belium Venia Seg Encve Sekim."  From two of the outer petals, tendrils of ice began to rise.  Carefully, Liv shaped them into boots, legs that joined together in a torso, and then arms.  One of the girls watching gasped, but Liv didn''t let that distract her.  It was just like making practice targets for Matthew in the yard, only smaller.  Well, almost.


    When she was finished, a miniature woman with long flowing hair and a sword held in each hand stood upon the blue columbine.  Three more swords rose behind her, like birds about to strike, supported by the thinest stands of ice she could manage.


    "Who is that?" Cecily asked, and Liv realized all of the girls had crowded around her.  "It almost looks like you."


    "My aunt," Liv said.  "Or at least, how I imagine her.  She died before I was born."


    "Well, I think we know who the winner is," Triss said.  No one raised an objection, though the princess looked as if she''d just sucked on a lemon.  "You should try some of these tarts, Liv.  Come on up."


    "I will, thank you," she said.  It was too warm for her sculpture tost; it was already sweating under the harvest sun.  Still, it had been nice to see the look on the princess'' face.  She found a seat at the table, next to Triss, and picked out a pastry stuffed with red fruit preserves.  It was pleasantly sweet when she took a bite.


    "That was beautifully done," the girl in spectacles said, plopping down in the chair to Liv''s left.  "I''m Sidonie Corbett.  My family''s word of power isn''t very good for that game, so I always have to watch, too," she remarked to Triss.


    "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Sidonie," Liv said.  "I thought what you said was interesting, even if no one else did.  I''ve only ever used Belia for bowl - well, until today.  I''d love topare notes with you sometime.  Have you ever done any work with the future tense?"


    "No!" Sidonie said with a gasp and a grin.  "I''m not allowed to.  Are you?"


    "Master Grenfell let me try once," Liv admitted.  "So that I could see how it worked.  I''d love to experiment more."


    A peal ofughter rang out from a cluster of girls surrounding the princess.  One of them, a younger girl with honey-blonde hair, leaned across the table.  "Is it true you''re a peasant?" she asked Liv.  "How did you get here, then?"


    Liv repeated what Lady Julianne had told her to say.  "The king has approved Baron and Lady Summerset''s request to adopt me as their daughter," she said.


    "Leave it to a bastard to take in a bastard," Princess Milisant said, slowly and deliberately.  She met Liv''s eyes the entire time, as if daring her to say something.


    "Lady Julianne has been very kind to me," Liv said, refusing to look away.  She was surprised at how angry she felt, all of a sudden.


    "I''m sure she has," the princess said.  "But I''m not saying anything that isn''t true, am I?  Julianne was born a bastard, to one of the king''s mistresses.  I''m surprised anyone was willing to marry her at all.  Who was your mother, Liv?  Another whore like hers?  Who else would bear a half-breed?"


    "Shut your mouth," Liv hissed.  Before she''d even realized what she was doing, she''d stood up and leaned across the table.  "You don''t even know my mother."


    "She clearly didn''t teach you how to address those of higher rank," the blonde at Milisant''s side said with a sneer.  "You should get down on the ground right now and apologize.  Maybe Milly will forgive you."


    "Unless," the princess said, "the insult is too much for you to stand for.  If you''re going to pretend to be a noblewoman, you could at least try to settle this like one."  Carefully and deliberately, she lifted a white glove from the table.  Liv hadn''t paid much attention to the hats, gloves, and purses piled up there, and now she frowned in confusion.  The princess threw the glove down onto the floor of the pavilion, and then waited, silently.


    "Stop it, Milly," Cecily said.  "Look at her.  She clearly doesn''t even know what you''re doing."


    "It''s a challenge," Triss Crosbie exined, from where she sat next to Liv.  "If you pick up the glove, it means you''re epting."


    "Don''t do it," Sidonie warned, from Liv''s other side.


    "A duel," Liv repeated, her heart sinking.  "With swords?"


    "Challenged party chooses weapons, challenger picks time and ce," Triss said.  "You could choose magic, if you wanted."


    "She won''t," Princess Milisant said.  "She''s afraid, you can tell.  Only a fool would duel a member of the royal family.  What you should take from all this, Miss Brodbeck," she said, "is that you don''t belong here.  You don''t know what you''re doing, and you aren''t wee.  Tell that dried up old bastard you refuse her offer, and then scamper home to whatever shit-stained hovel you came from."


    With a cry of frustration, Liv bent over and picked up the glove.  "Magic," she said, before she could think about what she was doing.  Unsure what else to do, she threw the glove back onto the table, next to a pie.


    The princess grinned.  "Excellent.  Tomorrow evening, on the north beach.  Eleventh bell.  Cecily, will you be my second?"


    The dark haired girl tapped her finger against the table, frowned, and then shook her head.  "It would''t be appropriate.  The Summersets are my father''s vassals.  I''ll be a witness, though."


    "Lady Howe?" Princess Milisant asked, turning to the blonde at her side.


    "dly," the girl said.  "Name your second, bastard."


    "I''ll do it," Triss said, rising from her chair.  "Come along, Liv, we have things to talk about.  Thank you hosting us, Princess.  It was¡­ eventful."


    Liv allowed herself to be pulled away, past the melted lump of ice which was all that remained of her sculpture.  For a moment, she thought Sidonie might follow them, but instead the spectacled girl lowered her eyes and remained in her chair.  As soon as the footpath had taken them away from the pavilion, and ced a few ornamental trees between the two girls and the party, she couldn''t stay silent any longer.


    "I messed that up, didn''t I?" Liv asked.  "I gave her what she wanted.  Lady Julianne just wanted me toe and listen, and now I''m going to cause her all sorts of problems.  But that- that-"


    "Bitch?" Triss offered.


    "That bitch," Liv repeated.  "I don''t think I''ve ever used that word before.  She just made me so angry!"


    "You''re lucky your brother is cute," Triss grumbled.  "Tell me you at least know how to fight.  You must, living all the way up north."  She pulled Liv off to one side, where a wrought-iron bench was set in the shade of a massive oak.


    "I''ve probably killed more monsters than anyone else at that stupid tea-party," Liv growled.


    "If you''ve killed so much as one, you''re likely right," Triss agreed.  "You think they let the princess anywhere near an eruption?  You know what she has killed, though?  Two women in duels."


    "Blood and shadows," Liv swore.


    "What''s worse," Triss said, "is that if you actually kill her, you''re done for.  The queen will have your head.  So you need to hold back and still win, somehow."


    "Let me guess.  No one will care if she kills me," Liv said.


    "You''ve got that right."


    "What''s her word of power, then," Liv asked.


    "Words," Triss said.


    "She has more than one?" Liv felt like more and more of an idiot with every new revtion.


    "The whole royal family does," Triss exined.  "Everyone knows she''s got her grandmother''s word, but that isn''t your problem.  It''s Luc you''re going to have to worry about.  Lightning."


    "How would you beat her?" Liv asked, after a moment.


    "I''d choose swords," Triss said.  "Never magic.  I can''t beat anyone in a magic duel."


    "You''ll get along just fine with Matthew, then," Livined bitterly.  "He hates using his word.  That''s not an option for me, though.  Lightning.  What''s the other word you were talking about?"


    "House Sherard''s word of power," Triss said.  "Lets them talk to birds, and control them.  See through their eyes, some people say.  But unless she''s nning to send a flock of seagulls to peck you to death, you won''t have to be afraid of that one."


    "Birds I could deal with," Liv grumbled.  "Lightning.  If she hits me once, I''m done for.  I guess that''s not any different from fighting a stonebat; kill it before it gets you."  She turned, looking over the older girl''s face for a moment.  "Thank you."


    "For what?" Triss asked.


    "You''re the only one there who was brave enough to take my side," Liv said.  "Everyone else just watched."


    "Well," Triss said.  "She was being a bitch, wasn''t she?"


    "She was," Liv agreed, and grinned.  Maybe this girl wasn''t so bad, after all.


    ?


    They stayed at the bench until the fourth bell of the afternoon, then raced along the footpath back to the circle where the carriages were arriving.  Matthew was waiting next to one, chatting with a dark haired boy in a purple doublet.


    "We need to leave," Liv told him, rushing up hand in hand with Triss.  "Now."


    "Liv, Triss, this is Thurstan Falkenrath," Matthew said.  "Why are you two in such a rush?"


    "Because we need to get out of here before the princesses!" Beatrice eximed, reaching over to grab Matthew by the arm.  Liv mbered into the carriage, making room for the other two.


    "I''ll talk to youter, Matthew," Thurstan said, watching with a grin.  "Did my sister get up to any trouble,dies?"


    "Cecily?" Triss said, stepping up into the carriage and yanking Matthew along with her.  "She''s fine.  Tell my coachman toe find me in a bell at - where are you two staying?"


    "Acton House," Liv called out.  She did her best to fake a smile, waved once, then pulled the door of the carriage closed and thumped her fist against the roof to signal to the driver.  They could just see the other girls emerging from the gardens as they pulled away.


    "What was all that about?" Matthew asked.  Liv noticed that he''d ended up on the opposite bench, next to Beatrice.


    "I have to duel the princess," Liv told him.


    "You''re joking."  Matthew looked back and forth between the two girls.  "Tell me you''re joking."


    "I''m her second," Triss said.


    "I should be her second!" Matthewined.  "I''m going to be your brother, aren''t I?"


    "You cane as a witness," Liv grumbled.  "Did you at least do what you were supposed to?  Maybe it can make up for how badly I made a mess of things."


    "I just met Thurstan Falkenrath, and he seems a decent sort," Matthew said.  "I also struck up a conversation with Roger Corbett, after I dropped you off."


    "That''s something," Liv said.  He might have been useless with magic, but Matthew was always better than her at talking to people.  His poprity at the Laughing Carp and the Old Oak spoke to that.


    "Have either of you ever fought a duel, before?" Triss asked, and both Liv and Matthew shook their heads.  "Alright, you need to practice, then.  Do you have room?"


    "We can use the beach," Liv said.  "We might even be able to pull in Cade Talbot to help."


    "The beach, that''s good," Triss said.  "She wants to fight you on the north beach, so practicing on sand will help get you ready for it.  The Talbots - that''s not the worst word to practice against, but you''re going to need a chirurgeon on hand."


    Matthew was silent, staring at Liv with narrowed eyes.


    "What?" she asked him.


    "You met him yesterday," Matthew said.  "You trust him to fling magic at you?"


    "It''s not as if I can have you do it," she shot back.  "Let''s hope he''ll help, because if not I don''t know who we''re going to go to."


    ?


    When the three of them piled out of the carriage in front of Acton House, Liv was surprised to see a familiar, weather-beaten maning down the steps, still in conversation with Lady Julianne.  Across the street, a gang of boys in dirty clothes were kicking a ball of rags around,ughing.  Liv thought it an odd sight for such a wealthy neighborhood, but was immediately distracted by Captain Athearn''s boisterous greeting.


    "Young Lord Matthew!  Miss Brodbeck!" he called.  "Good to see you both again.  Staying out of trouble, I hope."


    Liv couldn''t help blushing, but Matthew at least kept a straight face.  "Of course.  Good to see you again, Captain," he said.  "I wasn''t aware you were in port."


    "Well, I got word the owners would be in town," Ahearn said, "so I stopped by to talk a little bit of business."


    "And who is your friend, children?" Lady Julianne asked, looking Triss up and down.  Liv thought she noticed an eye twitch at the sight of the sword and tight breeches the girl was wearing.


    "Mother, this is Beatrice Crosbie," Matthew said.  "Triss, this is my mother, Lady Julianne."


    "A pleasure to meet you, mydy," Triss said.


    "How was the garden party?" Julianne asked.  Liv looked away and shuffled her feet awkwardly.  Matthew coughed.  "I said, how was the garden party?"  When Liv looked up, Lady Julianne was ring back and forth between the two of them as if trying to decide who she was going to punish first.


    "Perhaps we could talk about that after Captain Ahearn is on his way?" Liv suggested.


    "I can take a hint," the mariner said.  "Good afternoon to you all.  I''ll be in touch, mdy."  He set off through the gate, which one of the guards closed behind him, and then down the street on foot.


    "Out with it," Julianne snapped.


    Liv winced.  "I''m dueling the princess tomorrow night."

 45. Fulgurite

    "You had all bettere inside," Julianne said, turning on her heel.


    Liv had been preparing to withstand a tongueshing, and it took her a moment to hurry up the steps and into the house. Lady Julianne led them into the library, pulling the first guard she saw along in their wake with a crooked finger. "Guard the door," she instructed. "And don''t let anyone but my husband in."


    "Mdy," the guard said, inclining his head, and then took up a position just outside the room. Matthew waited for Triss and Liv to enter before him, then pulled the door shut.


    "Well, let me have it," Julianne said, taking a seat. "What happened."


    "It started out alright," Liv began. It did not escape her notice that Beatrice sat next to Matthew on one of the cushioned benches. "They wanted me to y the flower game-"


    "Which she did splendidly," Triss broke in.


    "Thank you," Liv said. "But then after that, Princess Milisant started saying these horrible things. About me, of course, but also my mother, and even you," she told Julianne.


    "And you got angry," Lady Julianne guessed.


    "I did," Liv confirmed. "But that wasn''t entirely why. I just- you remember Mirabel Cooper?"


    Matthew looked confused, but his mother nodded her head.


    "She and her friend used to always be so cruel to me," Liv said, looking down at herp. "Not just insults, but spilling ink on my dress, anything they could think of. And it never stopped. Trying to just endure it didn''t fix anything, it only let them keep going. It didn''t stop until I fought back. I realized - people like that. The princess is just like them. She won''t ever stop unless someone makes her. So this time, I''m not going to suffer through it hoping she''ll leave me alone. I''m going to fight back now, right at the beginning."


    When she finished, and looked up again, Liv saw that Julianne was smiling. "I was worried, for a moment, that it was over something foolish," she said. "But I can''t argue with your reasons, Liv."


    "All the same, it''s what the princess wanted," Triss said. "She wasn''t even trying to be subtle: just as nasty as she could get, to push and push until Liv would have no other choice."


    "But she''s never even met you before," Matthew said. "This goes beyond mere snobbery. Why would she do this?"


    "Because of me," Lady Julianne said. "I knew they were going toe at me while I was here, but I was hoping they would leave the two of you out of things. I think I underestimated the queen - or perhaps overestimated her."


    "Can you get the king to step in?" Matthew asked his mother.


    Julianne shook her head. "Not for a duel. If they broke thew, that would be one thing, but this is perfectly legal. No, what we need to do is to make sure that Liv wins."


    "We thought we would go practice down on the beach," Liv said. "I was thinking that maybe Cade Talbot might help us, if we can find him. Or do you think Master Grenfell would?"


    "I am certain he would, and will," Lady Julianne said. "You have very little time, my dear, and we can''t waste it. Matthew, go to the door and send for every guard you can round up. Have them bring their crossbows. Oh, and tell someone to get both Mistress Trafford and Master Grenfell. He''s to bring that great stone of his he always lugs around; I know he packed it. Who''s to be your second, Liv?"


    "Triss," she answered. Matthew stood up and walked over to the library door, where he stepped out into the hall.


    Lady Julianne turned to the girl he''d left behind on the bench. "We could probably get you out of this if you want," she offered. "If you go through with it, your family will be perceived as taking a side. Against the queen, and with me."


    "I said I''d do it," Triss told her. "I won''t go back on my word. I would like to know a bit more about what I''m getting myself into, however. It seems like quite a mess."


    "Yes, I suppose it''s time I told you all a few things," Julianne said. "And if you''re determined to stand with us, Beatrice, you deserve to hear it as well. I''ll answer your questions after we put Liv through her paces. I don''t want to waste the light."


    Matthew stepped back into the room. "Everyone is being fetched," he said.


    "Good." Lady Julianne rose. "Let''s head on down to the beach. I''ll meet you children down there; Matthew, you can show Beatrice the way. Liv, you probably want to get out of that dress."


    "That''s a good idea," Liv said. She hurried up to her rooms, where Thora helped her change into one of the gray dresses she''d brought from Whitehill. She took her staff and spellbook, leaving Thora to pack away the borrowed jewelry she''d worn to the tea party, and made her way out through the back garden and down to the sand.


    The wind was whipping in off the sea, and Liv guessed there was only an hour or two of daylight left. Three of Baron Henry''s guards were there, with loaded crossbows.


    "Begging your pardon, mdy," Piers said, as Liv reached the final step, "but the gulls? Are you certain?"


    "Shoot every one of them thates in range," Julianne said. She''d taken off her shoes, and was holding a long rod or wand in her right hand. It was bleached white, with iid sigils of gold and silver.


    "Is that a bone?" Liv asked looking the wand over. The sight of it sent a shiver through her body.


    "The bone of a dead god," Julianne said, nearly shouting over the wind. "When Miriam killed Sivis, she turned his two femurs into wands. The matching set was passed to her son, Lucan, and has been handed down through the family ever since. I want you to fight against this one, now, because I would bet anything the princess will have the twin when you face her."


    "The king gave you that?" Triss asked.


    "No," Julianne answered. "My uncle Caspian did, when I was at Coral Bay. But the important thing today is to prepare Liv for what she will be facing. Master Grenfell," she called up the stairs. Liv turned, to see the old mage and the chirurgeoning down to join them. "Walk us through the steps of a duel. Matthew, act as my second. Mistress Trafford, you''re here to treat injuries."


    "I see things are proceeding faster than we had ancitipated," Master Grenfell said. The wind whipped his hair back from his forehead, making the scar along his scalp stand out more clearly.


    "Grenfell? Rted to the Baron Ashford?" Triss asked.


    "My nephew." The master mage handed his great chunk of mana-stone to Mistress Trafford. "Keep an eye on this for me, please. Here we had nned for the first duel to be fought by you, mydy," he remarked to Julianne.


    "It''s my fault," Lady Julianne said. "I didn''t think she''d move against the children, at least not so openly or so soon. I should have been ready. Liv, it will be the Court Mage to the king, Genevieve Arundell, who oversees your duel."


    "Is she a friend?" Liv asked.


    Master Grenfellughed. "Not if she knows Jurian is technically your master. Alright, here is how it begins," he said. "First, both of you must present every enchanted item or mana-stone you are going to use in the duel, to be checked over by the judge and both seconds. The point is so that neither of you will be unaware of what you''re facing. The judge can bar the use of any magical item which they deem to employ only killing force."


    "Because a duel is supposed to be till first blood," Triss exined to Liv.


    "First blood, death, or if one person can''t continue by the judge''s count of ten," Grenfell confirmed. "Or if one person leaves the circle. You aren''t supposed to be trying to kill anyone, but if it happens, death during a duel is legally distinct from murder. Present what you''re bringing in with you."


    "One of the two stormwands," Lady Julianne dered.


    "Um, my staff," Liv said. "And my guild ring."


    "Good. All of those are allowed. Seconds, any objections?" Grenfell asked. Matthew and Beatrice shook their heads. "Duelists, set your backs to each other." Liv turned around, as did Lady Julianne, and they pressed their backs together. "Fifteen paces," Grenfell called out. "One. Two¡­"


    Liv walked out along the beach, taking a step each time Master Grenfell called a number, until she had taken fifteen steps.


    "Seconds, confirm distance," Grenfell shouted. "At this point, if one of them is much closer to me than the other, the seconds could call for an extra step," he exined. "You both look fine. Turn."


    Liv turned about in the sand, nting her staff in front of her. Master Grenfell muttered something, but she couldn''t make out the incantation over the winding off the ocean. A circle of brilliant blue light red up, extending from just behind her feet to curve all the way around to Julianne, epassing the two of them. Grenfell and the seconds left the circle.


    "Ready!" Master Grenfell called. "Begin!"


    Before Liv could even decide what to do, Lady Julianne whipped her wand down like a riding crop. The world in front of Liv shed blinding white, and a st of heat and sprayed sand threw her backward, and when she hit the ground she tumbled end over end further still. Half a heartbeatter, she heard the crack of thunder.


    "Victory to Lady Julianne," Grenfell shouted. "You left the circle, Liv."


    Liv rubbed at her eyes, trying desperately to get her vision back. "What was that?" she shouted. "You didn''t even say anything!"


    When she could finally see again, the seconds, Master Grenfell, and Lady Julianne had all crowded around her. Tiny arcs of lightning were still sparking off the bone wand. "When you have practiced a spell sufficiently," the baron''s wife said, reaching down a hand to pull Liv to her feet, "speaking the words aloud is no longer necessary. Merely thinking them is enough. And quite a bit faster, as well."


    "If she can do that, I''m done for," Liv said. Where lightning had descended from the sky, a gout of sand looked like it had been frozen in time, at the moment of the explosion. It rose two or three feet high, knotted and ugly, like a cloud of smoke made solid.


    "She''ll need to speak," Julianne said. "The technique isn''t taught until the second year at Coral Bay, and I can''t emphasize enough how much practice it takes. That will slow her down. But I wanted to show you just how bad this can get, at the beginning. Alright children, all three of you: start with the worst. What are the dangers, what are the disadvantages. What does Liv need to avoid."


    "Getting hit," Matthew said.


    "Obviously." Liv rolled her eyes. "I can see how she''s killed those other girls. If that struck me, I''d be dead. But even if she misses, it''s blinding. She could have just walked over and took a rock to my skull in the time it took to clear my eyes."


    "It''s too quick to dodge," Triss said. "By the time you see it, you''re already dead. You can''t throw yourself aside or something."


    "Good," Julianne said. Her tone was almost exactly like Master Grenfell''s when he was teaching a lesson. "Now, the weaknesses. What can Liv take advantage of?"


    "Strike first," Triss suggested. "Can you get her before she finishes that spell, Liv?"


    "If you can''t dodge it, maybe you can parry," Matthew suggested. "Not with a sword, obviously, but what happens when lightning hits ice? Does anyone know? I''ve never even heard of it happening."


    "That will be our next experiment, I think," Lady Julianne said. "Liv?"


    "She hasn''t gone to college yet, has she?" Liv said. "Or joined the guild. And she''s entirely human, right? No Elden blood?"


    "All of that is correct, so far as I am aware," Grenfell told her.


    "So I can probably hold more mana than her, right?" Liv asked.


    "Don''t count on it," Julianne told her. "She''s second in line to the throne, Liv. She''s going to be wearing a great deal more mana-stones than that ring you''ve got. With enough wealth, Aluthet''Staia canpensate. Don''t expect to oust her."


    "Alright then," Liv said. "I still have one idea. But let''s see whether an Icewall can stand up to one of your lightning sts."


    ?


    Three dead seagulls, one mostly emptied chunk of mana-stone, and the arrival of one Cade Talbotter, they had an answer.


    "Why," the dark haired boy asked, looking over the feathered corpses, lightning sted sand, and shattered chunks of ice, "are you all killing birds on the beach? And doing-" he waved a hand. "Whatever this is."


    Liv, skirts filthy with sand, gulped from a sk of watered wine, exhausted. She wasn''t sure that she could pry herself off the dunes and back to her feet if the princess had stormed down the steps right at that moment.


    "This is the boy?" Julianne asked, turning to her son.


    "Mother, this is Cade Talbot," Matthew said. "Cade, my mother, Lady Julianne Summerset. And this is Beatrice Crosbie, and Master Grenfell, our court mage."


    Cade nodded his head, but he was frowning. "You look like you washed up from a shipwreck, Liv," he said, and strode over to her. He reached down a hand, and she looked at it for a moment before epting it. He easily pulled her back to her feet.


    "Liv is training for a duel," Lady Julianne said. "You should probably walk back to your family''s home, Lord Talbot. I don''t think you want to be involved in this."


    "Who challenged you?" Cade hadn''t released her hand yet, and Liv found she had a hard time meeting his eyes. "Let me champion you, then. Whoever it is, I''ll teach them a lesson."


    "Someone made an impression," Triss murmured to Matthew. Liv shot her a re, and was mortified to find the other girl was grinning like a fox.


    "You can''t do that," Liv protested. She pulled her hand free of Cade''s. "It''s the princess."


    "I don''t care who it is," Cade said. "She won''t be able to cast very well with an opened throat." Liv blinked. What precisely was his family''s word, she wondered?


    "No," Lady Julianne said. "Liv is right. They need to learn that they can''t beat her in a duel. More than that, they need to learn to be afraid of her. That''s the only way to put a stop to this. I learned that lesson the hard way. We''ve lost the light," she said. The ocean was flecked with orange, where only a fragment of the sun remained over the horizon. "Enough for tonight. Beatrice, Cade, you are wee to join us for dinner," she said. "Be certain you understand what it means to be with us, however."


    "I''ve already picked a side," Triss said. "Can''t go back now."


    "Milisant is a brat," Cade said, after a moment. "Besides, I don''t abandon a woman who needs protection."


    "Up to the house then, all of you," Lady Julianne said, motioning to the stairs as if she was herding chickens. "Beatrice, you can clean up in Liv''s rooms. Matthew, take young master Talbot with you. I won''t have anyoneing to the table filthy."


    Liv lugged herself up the stairs, though she had to stop and rest a few times along the way. Triss, Matthew and Cade waited with her each time, while two of the guards took up the rear of the procession with their haul of dead gulls. Lady Julian and the others, in the meanwhile, went ahead up to the house.


    "I could carry you, if you like," Cade offered. He was smiling, and Liv couldn''t tell if it was a joke or whether he waspletely serious.


    "Let her get cleaned up before you''re all over her," Triss said. "Come along Liv. Show me your rooms." They did make it, eventually, and Thora must have been warned, for she had two basins of hot water, along with bars of pale green soap and towels ready in the sitting room when the two girls arrived. Liv considered for a moment going into her bedchamber to change, and then decided she was too exhausted to care.


    "Do you have a n, yet?" Triss asked, sprawling in one of Liv''s chairs after she''d washed her face and hands.


    "The beginning of one, maybe," Liv told her. She stripped down to her shift and stockings, piling all of her sand-encrusted clothing up in Thora''s arms. "Icewall is actually more effective than I feared it might be."


    They''d repeated the experiment several times, to be certain, drawing mana from Master Grenfell''s chunk of stone whenever either Liv or Lady Julianne ran low. An Icewall wouldn''t hold up indefinitely, and it was possible to blow a hole through it, but the spell was enough to block a lightning strike. Liv took a moment to scrub her face with warm water, than reached for her towel.


    "Lady Julianne said it was less - conductive? - than water," Triss agreed. "I''m not entirely sure what she meant, but I know what I saw. You can block a shot, if you can get it up in time, and shaped the right way."


    "Time won''t be the issue," Liv said. She grabbed her spellbook, brought it over to where Triss was sitting, and found the page she wanted.


    "If you can get the incantation right," Triss agreed, after reading what was written on the page. "On the other hand, screw it up and you could kill yourself anyway."


    "So we check it, and check it again," Liv said. "We have all of the day tomorrow to experiment."


    "First," Triss said, closing the book, "we need to get through dinner. Let''s get you dressed and downstairs, before the boys forget about us."

 46. Two Truths

    "If I didn''t know you were adopted before, it would be obvious now," Triss teased Liv as the two girls descended the stairs together. "Only one good dress? What self-respecting youngdy woulde downstairs wearing something like that?"


    Liv groaned. "I''m not even adopted yet," she told the older girl. "And this is a perfectly fine dress for amoner, which I currently am." She plucked at the gray skirt with her fingers.


    "You know I''m just having a bit of fun, don''t you?" Triss asked her, following Liv to the library. "I don''t think I even own one dress. Thest time I found one in my rooms I burned it in the hearth."


    "That must have smelt awful," Liv guessed, wrinkling her nose at the thought.


    "I can assure you that it did." The unfamiliar, gruff voice took her by surprise. Baron Henry had not been waiting alone; he was seated in an odd wooden chair with cart-wheels attached to it, which had been ced near the armchair closest to the hearth. There sat a man with close cropped gray hair, a thick neck, and broad shoulders, emphasized by his red and ck doublet. There was a bottle of brandy on the end-table near them, and each man had a ss of it.


    "Father!" Beatrice eximed from beside Liv. "I didn''t know you wereing to dinner."


    "And I expected you home after tea," Baron Crosbie told her with a dry humor. "I did, however, receive a report from the coachman, and a letter from Baron Henry inviting me toe to dinner and pick you up here. He''s just been telling me about this duel you''re involved in."


    "Don''t look so surprised," Henry said, after a sip of brandy. "While my wife was putting you through your paces, Liv, I took a few steps of my own. I haven''t seen Arnold for twenty years or so, but we have met before, so we had a bit to catch up on. Come take a seat, girls, while we wait for everyone else toe down."


    Liv sat herself down on the lefthand side of the nearest couch to the two men, and Triss took a seat next to her. "It isn''t Triss'' fault, my lord," she said. After all, the girl had agreed to be her second on the very day they first met. It was the least she could do to take the me for this mess. "She was simply kind enough to offer to help me."


    "I would have no objection to my daughter serving as your second, under any other circumstances," Arnold Crosbie said. "In fact, I''m pleased to see you standing up to protect others, Beatrice. It''s what ady in your position should do. But taking sides against the royal family is another thing entirely. You know we need their support to hold Valegard."


    "What we need is the guilds to stop raking us over the coals," Trissined.


    "The Crosbies," Henry exined to Liv, "watch over the Foundry Rift, on the eastern marches of Duke Thomas'' holdings. It is one of the most dangerous rifts in Lucania, prone to a great deal of trouble even between eruptions."


    "Which is why my daughter is the only one of my children to apany me here," Baron Arnold said. "Beatrice, while your brothers hold Valegard in our absence, you are here to make a marriage alliance. Or did you forget that?"


    Liv could feel the older girl stiffen next to her, stirring the cushion they sat upon. Before she could think better of the gesture, Liv reached out and sped Triss'' hand with her own. "I haven''t forgotten, father," Beatrice said, and Liv was shocked at how subdued her tone was.


    "Putting that aside for a moment," Baron Henry said. "Arnold, we are very grateful for your daughter''s support, and we recognize that it may ce you in a difficult position. My wife and I have a proposal that may help to make it up to you."


    "And will, I suppose, bind me even further to Julianne''s cause," Arnold grumbled. "I don''t see a way that you win this, Henry. Even if you could convince the king to legitimize her, Prince Benedict has spent years building alliances while you and Julianne puttered about off in the mountains doing trinity knows what."


    "Trying to stay out of this, for the most part," Lady Julianne said, sweeping into the room. "How odd, I thought my son and that Talbot boy would have gotten down here before I did." Like Liv, she had changed into a clean dress, and there was no sign of the bone wand she''d used down on the beach.


    Baron Arnold rose, though the sour look did not leave his face. "And how has that worked out for you? Staying away from the capitol?" Nheless, he took Julianne''s hand when she offered it, bowed, and then waited for her to be seated before returning to his chair.


    "For the most part, quite well," the baron''s wife said. "We had nearly twenty years to raise our son in peace. If the king hadn''t called a great council, we would have stayed at Whitehill - and hopefully out of the queen''s intrigues."


    "We''re thick in them now," Henry said. "No use moaning about it. Arnold, what if we could help you to strike a better deal with the trading guild? A better exchange of all that metal you trade to them for food?"


    "You mean what we''ve been trying to get the king to negotiate for years?" Baron Arnold asked. "Of course we would want it. The fools bleed me of every coin, while never stopping to think about what would happen if we can''t hold the rift. It''s shortsighted, selfish, stupid-"


    "Would that be enough to ce you firmly in our corner?" Julianne asked.


    Arnold took another sip of brandy. "If you could do it," he said, after a moment. "And if you could guarantee no repercussions from the queen. Then yes, I would be satisfied."


    "Then we need your vote twice," Julianne said. "And to allow us to speak for you with the guilds."


    Matthew and Cade Talbot strolled into the room before Beatrice''s father could answer, and that meant a round of introductions.


    "An honor to meet you, Baron Henry, Baron Arnold," Cade said, shaking each man''s hand in turn after they''d been introduced. Matthew was finished first, having been introduced only to Triss'' father, and took a seat before Cade could, in the chair closest to Liv. That left Cade Talbot next to Triss, in the only empty seat close to the fire.


    Liv watched the two boys closely: they had taken quite a while toe downstairs, as Lady Julianne had observed. In her experience, Matthew hardly ever took very long to get changed. There was something odd about the way they held themselves, as well: a certain stiffness or wariness.


    "How is your father, Lord Talbot?" Baron Arnold asked.


    "Well enough," the dark-haired boy answered.


    "He never did remarry, did he?" Lady Julianne inquired.


    "No," Cade admitted. "I''m his only child."


    "A good match for any youngdy," Arnold pointed out. "It''s a pity you''re not a few years older, or I''d consider you for my Beatrice."


    "I''m sure any man would be lucky to wed your daughter," Cade said, though Liv thought the words must have tasted sour in his mouth, from his tone.


    "Dinner is served," Archibald called in from the doorway. As everyone began to rise, however, Lady Julianne interrupted them.


    "Young master Talbot," she said, "remain a moment. And Liv, as well." Baron Arnold rose, took up a pair of handles on the back of Baron Henry''s chair, and carefully wheeled the crippled man out of the library. Liv''s jaw must have dropped, for Lady Julianne told her, "One of the advantages ofing to the capital. The royal workshops can make all manner of clever things."


    "I assume we''re bringing one back to Whitehill?" Liv asked.


    "One?" Julianneughed. "We''vemissioned three more." She waited until Matthew had escorted Triss out, and then gave Archibald a pointed look. Only after the first footman had closed the door did she speak again.


    "Out with it, then," she said, leveling a gaze at the boy.


    Liv looked back and forth between them. Julianne''s eyes were hard as the bones of the mountains, but Cade refused to back down or look away. "Perhaps mydy would like to ask a question," he said.


    "You want me to say it out loud, then?" Julianne asked. "Fine. Wandering by the beach could be coincidence. Coming back could be infatuation. Offering to carry her up the stairs? Yes, my son told me about that. I suppose it could still be young love, I remember how quickly thates on, and how overwhelming it can be. But offering to champion her against the princess?" The older woman shook her head. "What are you looking to get out of this?"


    Liv suddenly felt sick. She''d thought Cade was just being nice to her - and yes, maybe it had felt good for a boy to actually pay attention, for once. Certainly no one in Whitehill ever had. Was it all part of some scheme, and she was just too foolish to see it?


    Cade must have seen something in her face, for he turned toward Liv and reached out for her hand. Liv yanked it away. "Answer her question," she said, and tried to keep the shame out of her voice.


    "It wasn''t quite coincidence to wander up the beach," he admitted. "I wanted to see who was living here. I was not expecting to meet - well, a beautiful girl," he said. It was the first time in their short acquaintence Liv had ever heard the boy stumble over his words. "But I also knew my father wouldn''t approve of anything that wasn''t a good match for the family. I''m his only son and heir, so I had to sell him on the idea."


    "The idea of what?" Liv asked.


    "I''d like to court you," Cade said.


    "You know she isn''t my daughter?" Julianne asked.


    "Yes," Cade Talbot said. "My father asked around as soon as I talked to him. The king has already approved of the adoption papers. When Liv signs, that will make her legally the daughter of a baron. More than suitable."


    Liv couldn''t meet his eyes any longer, so she looked down at herp. She wished her cheeks and ears didn''t burn up every time something like this happened. Not that anything precisely like this had ever happened before, but- it was just frustrating to be so easy to read!


    "There are a score of girls who are suitable, but do not bring with them the enmity of the queen," Julianne pressed him. "What are you looking to get out of this?"


    "My father agreed that it could be very advantageous for our family if the next generation had Eldish blood," Cade said. "Even if our children were to live only ten or twenty years longer, or have a strong talent for magic, it would be an investment that he agrees is worth some risk."


    "So I''m to be your brood mare," Liv hissed.


    "No," Cade protested. "That''s just how I convinced my father, Liv. I like you. I hardly know you, so I suppose it''s silly to say that, but I want to spend more time with you. Like that morning swimming in the sea."


    "So the bargain is political support in return for my adopted daughter''s hand," Julianne said, with a voice devoid of emotion. "Thank you for making your intentions in, Lord Talbot. If - and I emphasize the if - we agree to this, your father will vote as we decide twice during the council. Please convey that to him. We will send a letter to your home after we''ve had a chance to discuss your offer."


    "I''m not staying for dinner then, I take it," Cade said, rising.


    "I think it''s best you don''t, no," Lady Julianne said, standing up. "I''ll convey your regrets to the rest of the party."


    "Very well. Thank you, mydy, for your time and your hospitality," Cade said, and then turned back to Liv. "This wasn''t how I wanted to ask," he said. "I hope - I hope I haven''t hurt you orpletely made a mess of things, Liv. It isn''t either, or - I like you, and I think it would be a good move for my family, both. I hope you''ll consider me, and I hope that whatever answer, we can be friends."


    Liv tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. She knew what was expected of her, so she extended her hand without looking up. Instead of simply taking it and bowing, the dark haired boy pressed his lips to her knuckles, and a shiver ran through Liv''s body. "Good evening, Lord Talbot," she said.


    "Good evening, Liv." Cade released her hand, and she waited until his footsteps had receded from hearing before she looked up again.


    "I won''t make this decision for you," Lady Julianne said. "But if you want to refuse him, I am more than willing to take the me."


    "Would it help?" Liv asked. "Those two votes, I mean."


    "It would mean that we have a block of four votes when we negotiate with the guilds, rather than three," Julianne said. "I want as many as we can get, before we go that far."


    "Summerset, Grenfell, and now Crosbie," Liv counted. "Talbot would make four."


    "Yes." Lady Julianne extended a hand. "Let''s go in to dinner. You don''t need to decide right now."


    "You have a n, though," Liv asked her, epting help to her feet.


    "I do," Julianne said. "A block of votes to support the guilds gaining a ce on the great council, in exchange for their votes on what I really want."


    "That''s why you sent me to make friends," Liv guessed.


    "Yes. Beatrice was a good find," the baron''s wife said. "Is there anyone else you think you could invite here, who would ept?"


    "Sidonie Corbett," Liv said. "In fact, can we have her over tomorrow? She seems good with spellwork, and I think I could use her help."


    "I''ll have Archibald send over an invitation. Come along, they''re waiting for us." Liv apanied Lady Julianne into the dining room, though she was unable to help ncing at the empty ce setting that would have been for Cade Talbot.


    "Lord Talbot was unfortunately called away," Julianne said. "But he wanted to thank you all for a lovely evening, and convey his regrets." Liv set her staff in the corner, and once bothdies had taken their seat, the footmen began to serve. She noticed that neither Master Grenfell, nor Mistress Trafford were present at the table, and wondered where they were.


    "I believe you owe us a story, Mother," Matthew spoke up. Liv observed that he had been ced between his mother and Triss, while Baron Arnold had been seated between Liv and Henry.


    "I suppose I do," Julianne said, then wet her tongue with a sip of wine. "The first thing to know, I suppose, is that my mother was hardly more than amoner. She was the daughter of a knight, and my father would never have met her at all if he and his brother hadn''t stayed for a night in Carinthia on their way to cull a rift. They were just princes, in those days."


    "A prince would never be allowed to marry the daughter of a mere knight," Matthew observed. "A baron could get away with it - it isn''t unheard of. But not a prince."


    "I''m told the night in question didn''t ur at their first meeting," Julianne said. "But when my father came back from the rift wounded."


    Baron Arnold gave a huff. "That''s an old story. He wouldn''t be the first man to fall for the woman who nursed him back to health."


    "Regardless," Julianne said, "when he found out I existed, my father sent for me to be brought to court. He couldn''t keep me in the pce, so he put me here, at Acton House, with a nursemaid and governess and everything else you could imagine. He spent a good deal of time here, too, until his marriage." Liv noticed a slight smile on Julianne''s lips. There must have been at least a few good memories from those times.


    "What about your mother?" Triss asked.


    "She couldn''te, of course," Lady Julianne answered. "It was already enough of a scandal. I don''t even remember her."


    "Let me guess," Matthew broke in. "The queen didn''t appreciate having you around."


    "That would be an understatement," Julianne said. "Especially once Prince Benedict was born. Anything that could be a threat to her son''s session became an obstacle to be removed. The entire reason my father let me go to college at Coral Bay was to get me away from the endless duels. You''ll notice, Liv, her tactics haven''t changed. It''s a legal way to kill someone."


    "Of course, what the queen hadn''t counted on," Baron Henry broke in, "was that Julianne was actually quite talented. She was a star pupil at Coral Bay, and all of a sudden people began saying that House Loredan might produce a second archmage."


    "Which made me even more of a threat," Julianne said. "I had to leave Coral Bay after one of my ssmates slipped a dagger in my back while we were culling the Tidal Rift. It seemed like wherever I went, whatever I did, she''d keeping after me."


    "When I made a marriage proposal," Henry said, "I sweetened the pot for the king with a few V?dic artifacts from my father''s collection. But the real argument was that Whitehill is about as far away from Freeport as it''s possible to get and still be in the kingdom."


    "So you were safe," Liv said, "until we left home."


    "Mostly," Julianne said. "Though you will recall there was one attempt on my life, when Matthew was born. An attempt from which you saved me, Liv. I''m sorry that instead of repaying you as you deserve, I''ve only seeded at dragging you further into my own troubles."

 47. Duel at North Beach I

    When Beatrice left with her father, it was with a promise to return the next morning, after breakfast.  Basil delivered two notes to Liv, while Thora was brushing her hair out before bed.  One was from Sidonie Corbett, promising to arrive around the tenth bell the next day, and to stay through lunch.  The other was from Cade Talbot, asking Liv''s permission to attend her duel.  She couldn''t decide what to write back, so she set it aside on her desk and climbed into bed.


    Liv wished for a cat, to cuddle up against her purring and help her go to sleep.  She was fairly certain there were a few mousers in residence at Acton House, but she hadn''t managed to befriend any of them yet.  Instead, she hugged Rosie, her old rag doll, who had been packed at the very bottom of her trunk.


    The other times she''d risked her life, there hadn''t been nearly as much advanced warning.  Tomorrow, a girl Liv barely knew was going to try to kill her, and not even because of anything she''d done herself - just because of who she was associated with.  It was not a thought that lent itself well to a good night''s rest, and she found herself tossing and turning, drifting in and out of anxious dream fragments.  She was up in the morning before Thora.


    The bed-chamber was too unfamiliar, still, to beforting.  There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, so Liv stripped off her stockings and padded down the stairs and out to the garden barefoot, in her shift.  When she got to the beach, she ran across the sand and sshed into the waves, letting the cool sea water close over her head.  It wasn''t the same as a mountainke, or the fast-moving Aspen River, but it was something.  She let herself float under the water until her lungs were about to burst, and then finally stood up.


    The wavespped about her waist, and the salt water stung her eyes, but somehow Liv felt better.  She tossed her head back to get her hair out of the way, rubbed most of the sea water out of her eyes, and then jumped when she saw Cade Talbot waiting on the shore.


    "I thought you mighte down here this morning," the dark-haired boy called to her.


    Liv was suddenly aware of how very alone she was, with a boy she hardly knew, and wearing nothing but a shift that was soaked through.  "I needed to get some air," she said, then sunk down in the water up to her neck.  The waves lifted her hair, sying strands out around her head like seaweed.


    "That doesn''t surprise me," Cade said.  "I won''t keep you, Liv.  I just wanted to tell you again that I''m sorry for how that happened; it wasn''t the way I intended it to be.  If you''ll let me, I''d like toe and support you at the duel."


    Liv bit her lip, and considered.  "You cane," she said.  "I could use as many friendly faces as I can get, I think.  But it doesn''t mean I''ve agreed to anything, yet."


    "Thank you," Cade said.  "And I understand.  I''ll head back, now; I don''t want to cause you any scandal."  True to his word, he turned and headed back down the beach.  Liv waited until he was out of sight before wading out of the ocean and scampering back up the stairs to the house.


    ?


    After breakfast, Liv brought all of her books to the library, and stacked them up on the nicely polished wooden desk at one end of the room.  She brought three quills and a pot of ink, as well, and Lady Julianne gave her five pieces of parchment to work with.  Baron Henry, Lady Julianne, and Master Grenfell set up by the fire, after the court mage had dropped another half dozen books on the desk.  Matthew was conspicuous by his absence, but Liv knew that he didn''t have much of a head for magic anyway and didn''t hold it against him.


    When Beatrice Crosbie and Sidonie Corbett arrived, Basil showed them up, and they joined Liv at the desk.  "Thank you for having me over," Sidonie said, with a shy grin.  "What are we doing?"


    "nning how to give Princess Milly a kick right up her pompous ass," Triss said.


    "Oh!" Sidonie blushed at the swear, and Liv found herself relieved not to be the youngest person in the room.  Not that Triss was actually older than her, being human, but she certainly looked like it.


    "Have you thought about where to begin?" Lady Julianne asked, from her seat by the fire.


    "Yes," Liv said.  "The first thing, of course, is that I can''t allow myself to be hit.  If she manages to strike me with lightning, it''s over.  I don''t feelfortable just hoping that I can get an incantation before she can; that seems like a good way to lose.  I don''t want to leave anything to chance."


    "So, she''s going to open up with an attack," Triss said.  "Lightning down from the sky.  We know your ice can take at least one hit, but we don''t know what direction she''s going to strike from, do we?"


    The three girls looked to Lady Julianne.  "Lightning forms in the clouds," she exined.  "The stormwand will let her skip having to gather a storm, but it still wants to get to the ground as quickly as it can.  Luc can be used to create it, and guide its path.  Essentially, she can convince the lightning that you represent its best route to the ground.  It wille from above."


    "Which means using the shape of a wall is no good," Liv said.  "I need something that will surround me on all sides."


    "How are you going to make sure your spell is finished before hers?" Sidonie asked.


    "I''m going to use the future tense," Liv said, looking over to Master Grenfell to see if he would stop her.


    "Oh no," he said.  "Don''t look at me to stop you.  You''re fighting for your life, Apprentice.  Use every tool you have."


    ?


    They took two carriages from Acton House to the north beach, carrying Baron Henry, Lady Julianne, Master Grenfell, and Mistress Trafford in the first.  The second was Liv, Matthew, and Triss Crosbie, who assured them that her father would meet them on the beach.  Sidonie had returned home: she said that her parents would be furious if she went to a duel, but Lady Julianne made certain she took an invitation to luncheon the next day for her and her mother both.


    Four guards from Castle Whitehill rode with them, two in front and two in back, led by Piers.  Every one of them wore their jack of te, in the green and white of the Summersets, and they carried halberds with the butts set in their stirrups, and crossbows hanging from their saddles.


    North Beach, it turned out, was outside of the city walls of Freeport, though still in sight of the city''s skyline.  There was a paved road that led right to it, and an open field for a carriage park.  Raised wooden walkways led through high stands of sea grass down to the beach itself, which was a beautiful stretch of smooth white sand, scattered with old pieces of driftwood and great rocks just offshore.  The waves crashed and swirled around the rocks, and farther to the north, the beach ended where a stream emptied into the bay.  Small seabirds circled overhead, as well as therger - and louder - gulls.  The entire expanse was lit by a ring of tall torches, on poles thrust into the sand.


    Cade Talbot was waiting at the end of the walkway, where the wood met the dunes.  He was wearing a doublet as dark as his hair, with gold buttons and thread of gold embroidery, and there were two men at arms lingering just behind him, at just enough distance to give the illusion of privacy.


    "You look like you''re ready to chew her up and spit her out," Cade called, with a smile, as their party approached.


    Liv was wearing a brand new dress that Lady Julianne had presented her with just that afternoon: the underskirt was pure white, and the sleeves as well, but the overskirt and bodice were in green.  House Summerset colors, as were the new white leather gloves.  She extended her hand, and Cade lifted it, once again leaning down to press his lips against her knuckles, though this time the leather prevented skin to skin contact.


    "Come off it," Matthew grumbled at the sight.


    "You should be grateful," the younger boy told him, releasing Liv''s hand.  "I''ve just publicly sided with your house, in front of this entire audience.  Perhaps in return, once this unpleasantness is done with, Liv would be kind enough to allow me to escort her to the king''s masque."


    "Don''t distract me," Liv chided them both, and stalked forward, her staff in hand, to the center of the torch-lit circle.  She made certain to carry the length of Aspen wood at an angle, so that it didn''t identally strike the ground.  Triss Crosbie marched on her right, hand resting on the pommel of her rapier.  Princess Milisant waited for them, holding a wand of bone, along with her second from the tea party, the blonde girl who Liv recalled addressed as ''Lady Howe.''  Behind them were a crowd of people Liv did not recognize, gathered to watch, as well as what she presumed were royal guards.  Finally, a woman who looked to be roughly Julianne''s age, if not a touch older, dressed in heavily embroidered robes and a cloak, stood a pace or two off from the princess.


    Her hair was pale blonde and unbound, caught and tossed by the sea breeze.  In the torchlight, the fine stands seemed almost to glow from within.  She carried a ck wand in her hand, but the most striking thing about her were the eyes: a brown so light they were nearly amber, and shining with intensity.


    "My name is Genevieve Arundell, Court Mage to King Rnd the third," the woman said.  Her voice carried easily.  "I am a Master Mage of the guild, and I will be overseeing this duel.  Seconds, join me."  The two young women stepped forward.  "Duelists, present any object that is enchanted, or any mana-stone you are carrying, for inspection."


    Liv took the glove off her left hand, tucked it under her arm, and held it out, along with her staff.  "I bring a guild ring, presented to me by my master, Jurian of Carinthia," she said.  "As well as my staff, made of Aspen wood and enchanted by Master Grenfell, Court Mage to Baron Henry of Whitehill."


    She thought she detected a change in Mistress Arundell''s expression at Jurian''s name, but the only thing the mage said was: "Those are eptable.  Princess?"


    "I bring one of the stormwands," Milisant began, holding out a rod of bone iid with gold and silver, the matching set to Lady Julianne''s.  "I am also wearing a bodice enchanted to warm the wearer in winter, and these rings."  She held up her left hand.  Every finger, and the thumb, bore a gold ring set with a mana-stone.  Each was linked by a delicate golden chain to a matching bracelet on her wrist, once again set with a mana-stone, though evenrger than the ones on the rings.


    Years ago, Master Grenfell had told Liv the average student arriving at Coral Bay for college could hold at least four rings of mana.  If the stones set into the princess'' jewelry were the same size as the one in Liv''s ring, that would be another six.  Call it at least ten rings of mana avable for her to use.  Probably more.


    "Those are eptable," Mistress Arundell said.


    "She''s brought eight items to Liv''s two," Triss objected.  "That''s hardly fair."  Liv didn''t expect the argument to go anywhere, but it was nice to see that Triss was trying.


    "The princess also has no Eldish blood," the court mage responded.  "Your objection is noted, but I judge it a fair exchange.  Do either of you wish to withdraw at this time?"  Both girls shook their heads.  "Very well, then," Arundell continued, and raised her voice, so that she would be audible to the entirety of the crowd.  "This duel will proceed to first blood, surrender, unconsciousness, or my count of ten without response.  If either party leaves the circle, they will be considered to have surrendered.  When I call the duel as ended, you will both cease casting immediately.  If you do not, I will stop you, and you will not find that pleasant.  Understood?"


    "Yes," Liv said.


    "I know what I''m doing," Princess Milisant dered.


    "Seconds, clear the circle," Genevieve Arundell ordered.  "This duel is to settle a matter of honor between Princess Milisant Loredan and Apprentice Liv Brodbeck-"


    "Livara," Liv corrected her, raising her own voice to match the older mage''s volume.  "My name is Livara T?r Valtteri Kaen Syv?.  If I''m going to risk my life, I might as well use it once."  She tried to ignore the muttering that broke out on both sides of the audience.


    "Ladies, back to back," Mistress Arundellmanded.  Liv pulled her left glove back over her hand, having to take a moment to work it over her ring, then turned around and backed into the princess.


    "You should have stayed up in the mountains," Milisant said quietly.  "I don''t actually have anything against you, but we can''t let the bastard have you.  I''m just getting rid of the trash."


    "Fifteen paces!"


    Liv took a breath, and stepped forward, walking in time with the count until the royal court mage reached fifteen.


    "Seconds, confirm distance," Arundell called.


    "Her legs are too short," Lady Howe said.  "Have her take another step."


    "eptable," Triss called back.  They''d discussed this; distance didn''t really help or hurt Liv either way.  There was no reason to object.  Liv took another step.


    "Turn!" Liv turned around, holding her staff above the ground still.  Thirty paces away, give or take, the princess held her wand in her right hand.  Mistress Arundell made her invocation, and a blue circle of light red up to epass both girls.  Liv was too focused on what was about to happen to bother listening to the words.  She kept her eyes locked on Milisant, and tried to remember to breathe.


    The court mage retreated from the circle.  There was a long moment where the only sound was the surf breaking, and then Genevieve Arundell shouted: "Begin!"


    Liv mmed her staff down onto the sand before Princess Milisant could finish the first word of her invocation.


    ?


    "You need a trigger that''s as fast as you can get," Triss had argued that morning.  "Everything in this duel is about speed, and she has the advantage.  Can youe up with a way to have it start the moment the judge starts the duel?"


    Liv looked over to where Master Grenfell sat by the fire, sipping from a cup of tea.  "You just said ''begin,'' when we practiced.  Is that standard?" she asked.


    "Fairly standard," her teacher said.  "But not required.  I''ve heard variations over the years."


    "When''s thest time you even fought a duel?" Julianne teased him.


    "In college, I suppose," Grenfell admitted.


    "Regardless, I don''t think you can count on it," Sidonie said.  "Control everything you can.  Leave nothing to chance.  What if you set the spell to trigger at ''begin,'' and she says ''start?"


    "I agree," Liv said.  "So we want a trigger that I can do, that will be faster than speaking.  How about when I strike the ground with my staff?  Can anyone see a w in that?"


    "You''ll have to make certain you don''t identally set it off on the walk in," Grenfell said.  "But otherwise, good.  It''s even better, because the guild has plenty of spells targeting staves and wands.  We have those words readily avable.  Now how are you going to shape it?"


    "Keep this as simple as possible," Julianne suggested.  "Once you''re fighting, you can''t count on keeping your head.  Complex things tend to go out the window.  In fact, if you can find a way tobine a defensive intent with an offensive one, that''s the best tactic."


    "Will she even have defenses?" Sidonie asked.  "Lightning doesn''t exactly make armor or a shield, does it?"


    Liv grinned.  "I know what I''m going to do."


    ?


    On the beach, ice rose up at Liv''s feet, in an instant building beneath her shoes and lifting her body up into the air.  She swayed, but kept her bnce.  At the same time she rose, her magic built upyer uponyer in gentle curves, umting as fast as water could be poured from a bucket.  The barrier reached her knees, and across the sand Liv saw Princess Milisant raise her wand.  Somewhere overhead, up in the clouds, she became aware of a great deal of ice: tiny pieces of it, swirling and vibrating amidst a building energy.  The word of power coiled at the back of her mind whispered that if she wanted to, she could reach out and take control of it.


    The ice wrapped around her, cutting off Liv''s view of the princess just before the wand fell.  She looked up at the sky, waiting for the ice to surround herpletely.  There was something freeing about it: either the spell would finish in time, or it would not.  Not a thing Liv did now would make a difference.


    The ice had almost cut off her view of the night sky, and the stars overhead had been blotted out.  The circle of sky above her was only the size of a coin.  Almost-


    A column of lightning fell from the sky, brilliant and burning.  Liv squeezed her eyes shut and waited to see whether she would die.

 48. Duel at North Beach II

    "I don''t see how this will help us convince the council of anything," Keri said again. He considered the enchanted gauntlets lying on the bed: in battle, he would wear them, but he wasn''t actually expecting a fight. At least, not one he would be participating in. Wearing the armor was more about making an impression, or sending a signal that he hade for something of deadly importance.


    Sakari Ka Edvis, ambassador to the kingdom of Lucania, sighed. In contrast to the war-like image Keri was presenting, the Ambassador wore robes of soft gray silk brocade, worked with motifs of ancient wyrms, their wings and tails shimmering under the light of the oilmps that lit the room.


    "This is the first somewhat public event we can use to begin introducing you around, before the actual council sessions," Sakari exined. Keri had heard this before, but he still didn''t like it. "There is a masque, to celebrate the opening of the council, but that won''t be for two more days, to give all of the barons time to arrive. Many of them have to travel to reach a waystone, or wait until enough mages are present to activate one. There''s a reason the king doesn''t call these often."


    Keri lifted his N?v''bel from where he''d leaned it in the corner. "I''m ready," he dered.


    "That will certainly make an impression," Ambassador Sakari grumbled. "I wish you had brought your kwenim along with you. A single dance, and Rika would have had the entire court eating out of her hands."


    "Neither of us wanted to bring Rei," Keri exined, following Sakari out of his guest chambers and through the halls of the embassy. "He''s too young to travel, especially with the blood cult on the move."


    "I suppose I can''t me you for that," the ambassador said. As they stepped outside, two of the embassy guards, swordsmen in enchanted armor nearly as fine as Keri''s, fell into step behind them. The embassy had been provided with a carriage, but all four of the Eld swung themselves up into the saddles of waiting horses, instead.


    The ride north to the shore passed quickly enough once they were out of the city, and by the time Sakari led the way down to the beach, a crowd of humans was already gathering around a circle of torches nted in the sand. At the arrival of the two Eld and their guards, the audience surged, and Keri had to fight down an urge to turn around and walk right back to the horses.


    "Ambassador!" a human with neatly arranged blonde hair called, striding forward to grasp hands with Sakari. "What a privilege you were able to attend. I know you''ve met my daughter before, and we''ve all heard rumors of your guest."


    "Prince Benedict, Princess Milisant," the ambassador greeted them, shaking the man''s hand and bowing over the young woman''s. "It is always an honor to spend time with either of you. Allow me to present Inkeris ka Ilmari k?n B?lris, who hase south to speak to the council on the cult of Raktia. Inkeris, Prince Benedict Loredan, heir to the throne of Lucania, and his daughter Milisant, who will be one of the participants in the duel this evening."


    Keri switched his spear to his left hand, so that he could sp arms with first the human prince, and then the girl. It was only when Milisant''s face betrayed her surprise that he recalled that one greeted human women differently. Rather than apologize, he decided to simply press forward. "It is an honor to be here," he said. "I look forward to addressing the council. This is a crisis that our two peoples can only ovee by working together."


    "Of course, of course," Prince Benedict said. "But before that, you''ll be able to observe one of our most talented young women. I fully anticipate that my daughter will be the top student of her year, when she goes to Coral Bay. Millie, your opponent is arriving. You''d better head over; try to wrap this up quickly, please. After you finish, perhaps the Ambassador and his guest will join us for brandy."


    "Don''t worry, Daddy," the girl said. "This won''t take a moment." Drawing a pale wand from the case that hung at her hip, the princess stalked forward across the sand.


    "What is this all about?" Keri asked the prince.


    "A few unkind words were exchanged at my daughter''s tea party yesterday," Benedict said.


    Keri nced across the sand, and then stopped. He reached a hand out and took Ambassador Sakari by the shoulder, turning the older man to look. "Who is that?" Keri asked.


    A slip of a girl walked across the sand toward the center of the fire-lit ring, the sea breeze tossing pure white hair behind her as she came. She was tiny, not quite an adult. There was a coltishness to her, still, that told Keri she still had a few years filling out to do. She carried a staff of pale wood in one hand, and sigils of iid silver and gold ran up and down its length. Oddly, she was angling it so as not to touch the ground. Her features were delicate, and reminded him of people he''d seen in Al''Fenthia with mixed ancestry.


    "A cook''s bastard from the north," Benedict remarked. "She has a bit of magic, apparently."


    "That is no human woman," Ambassador Sakari said. "I thought this was a duel between your own people. We should have been informed. This needs to stop right now."


    "My name is Livara T?r Valtteri Kaen Syv?. If I''m going to risk my life, I might as well use it once," the girl called, from the center of the circle. She''d raised her voice so that everyone could hear her.


    "House Syv?," Keri repeated. Of course, the white hair. He knew that when he got a look at her eyes, they would be blue as the winter sky. The thought stirred a memory, but he didn''t have time to try to ce it right now. "This ends now," he said, and only after he spoke did he realize it came out in a growl. Around him, people backed away.


    "It''s toote," the human prince objected. "They''ve already agreed to this and stepped into the circle. Interfere now, and you''re breaking thew."


    Keri spun on Benedict. "We will have words on thister," he said through gritted teeth. "And if she dies-"


    "I do not take kindly to threats," the blonde man shot back.


    "No one is making any threats," Ambassador Sakari said. "But keeping this from us was, at the very least, a gross oversight. Some of my people will take this as willful deception, and an insult."


    A re of blue drew Keri''s attention back to the duel, and he gripped the haft of his spear tightly because he couldn''t do anything else. He hadn''t realized how ignorant and foolish the human prince would be.


    The two girls were now encircled by a ring of blue fire, and everyone else had cleared the area. At a call of ''Begin," both of them moved. The princess raised her wands and began to chant, building her spell piece by piece. The half-blood girl, on the other hand, immediately mmed the butt of her staff down onto the sand, speaking no words at all.


    Ice gathered beneath her feet, lifting her above the strand even as it began to wrap around her body. "Contingent spells," Keri muttered. "A bit of magic. Your daughter has no idea what she''s gotten into, does she, Your Highness?"


    In the space of a single breath and exhtion, the shape of the white-haired girl''s intent had be clear to everyone watching. Glittering ice coalesced around her into the shape of a delicate rosebud, the petals tightly closed, rising up the beach on a slender, thorned vine. Every leaf, thorn, and petal was shaped perfectly.


    A bolt of lightning fell from the sky, striking the rose of ice. Keri blinked away dark spots in his vision - had the girl survived? He craned his neck forward, trying to get a view of what was happening, but a cloud of steam boiled out from the point of impact, and he could only glimpse shadows of shapes.


    "There!" Ambassador Sakari said, pointing. A woman''s shape rose from the sand, three or four yards distant from the sculpture of ice. The girl - Livara, she''d said? - must have caught the lightning strike with her flower, and then ducked out and circled around.


    The princess screamed the same invocation a second time, with no variation whatsoever, and a second bolt of lightning fell from overhead. This time, it hit the girl directly, with nothing to shield her.


    "If that girl is dead," Keri repeated, but before he could finish, Princess Milisant screamed.


    "Get it off me!" She bent down to tug at coils of icy roots, wrapped around her feet and calves. "It''s freezing!"


    ?


    "We know that when lightning strikes the ice," Liv had exined, that afternoon, "the heat melts my walls so quickly that a lot of steam is released. At that moment, she won''t be able to see me clearly."


    "You''re going to count on that to avoid her second strike, or dy it?" Master Grenfell asked, rising from his chair near the fire.


    Liv shook her head. "No. I want her distracted long enough that I can catch her and hold her in ce. A target, just like I make for Matthew in the practice yard. I''ll shape it to look like me, and when she sees it through the cloud of steam, she won''t be able to tell the difference. That will draw her second strike, and give me time."


    "I thought we said a single intent would be best?" Sidonie said.


    "I can''t do this with less than two," Liv admitted. "But after the decoy, everything else wille from the initial spell. When I visited Alban Cooper''s home with Airis Ka Reimis, he used the roots of the nts in the garden to grab onto my ice and break it apart. I wrote down the invocation he used the moment I was free to. I''m going to take a page from his spellbook, so to speak."


    ?


    Keri understood the moment he saw the roots.


    The rose of ice that had grown from the sand did not exist merely above the beach - but below it, as well. While the human princess had been distracted, the rose''s roots had quested forward, digging beneath the sand, and then emerged from beneath her, wrapping around her legs to hold her in ce. That meant the half-blood girl - Livara - must still be alive.


    Keri nced at the spot the second bolt of lightning had fallen from the sky. With the steam clearing, what he had assumed to be the girl was revealed as only a statue of ice, now broken off at the waist from the explosion.


    The rose-vine flexed, drawing his gaze back, and half a dozen thorns shot off the vine like crossbow bolts, flying across the thirty paces that separated the two girls. Two of the frozen thorns missed, digging furrows into the sand just beyond Princess Milsant, but the other four hit: one took her in the thigh, one in the left arm, and the other two in her chest. The force of the impact broke the roots around her feet, and threw the girl backward onto the sand, where shey bleeding.


    Across the dueling field, the rosebud opened its petals, stretching them down to the sand itself, forming a kind of ramp.


    "She never left it," Prince Benedict finally realized. "Where did Julianne find a monster like this?"


    The girl held her staff in her left hand, now, and carried a sword of ice in her right, clutched tightly in gloves of white leather. "She nned every step of this," Keri said, a smile curling his lips. She stalked across the sand in the blue light of the dueling circle, hair blown out behind her, and ced the tip of her sword beneath the princess'' chin. Though it was not yet winter, snowkes were drifting down onto the beach from the night sky.


    "First blood," she called out. "Unless Mistress Arundell wishes me to continue?"


    "The sword," Ambassador Sakari said, and when Keri nced to his side, he saw the man''s face was pale. "She looks just like her. What did she say her name was?"


    "Livara T?r Valtteri Kaen Syv?," Keri answered.


    "Livara of the Five des," the ambassador said. "It''s as if a ghost has risen from the grave."


    The circle of blue mes died. "The duel is finished," the court mage called out. "Chirurgeons! Attend to the princess!"


    The half-blood girl - Livara, Keri reminded himself - stepped back from Milisant Loredan. The blonde girl was no longer moving or making any noise, and he hoped that she wasn''t dead. That would only make things moreplicated. Prince Benedict scrambled across the beach toward his daughter, while a group of young men and women from the other side of the beach rushed the circle and surrounded Livara in a knot ofughter and congrattions.


    "What is this going to mean for us," Keri said, grabbing the ambassador by both shoulders and pulling him close. "Quickly."


    "We register a formalint that this was kept from us," Sakari said. "We demand an apology. That will put the prince and his people on the defensive. We send a message to House Syv? immediately. Anything they want to do other than apologize, we stall for time and say nothing can be done until a representative of her family is here. She can''t be an adult yet, can she?"


    "She doesn''t look it," Keri said. "Right on the edge, though. If they want to count using human years, she''d certainly qualify under theirws."


    "Rust theirws," Sakari swore. "We argue that she''s a child and nothing can happen until there''s an adult here to take responsibility for her."


    "She needs training," Keri pointed out. "If she can do all that with only human teachers-"


    "I know. To awaken a word without a teacher," Sakari shook his head. "I can''t even imagine how many bad habits they must have taught her."


    "I trust you to handle the diplomacy," Keri said, releasing the ambassador from his grasp. "Give me enough time to speak to her without interference from the prince." He turned and strode across the sands, heading straight for the knot of jubnt people that surrounded the girl.


    "Livara T?r Valtteri," Keri called ahead as he approached. "Of the House Syv?. Congrattions on your victory."


    The crowd parted before him, revealing the girl. She turned toward him, brushing her hair back behind one ear, and their eyes met. Keri stumbled, unable to take a breath, as the memory came back to him at once, in awful, perfect rity.


    Eyes opened, meeting his gaze. They were the blue of the winter sky, cracked over with frost. The delicateshes put him in mind of a woman, though he could see no other part of her. Her eyes flinched away from him, like an animal who has endured too much pain.


    "Who are you?" Keri remembered asking, during the vision.


    The only response was the sudden gust of snow, and his world became entirely white.


    "I know you," he said now, on the beach. "It was you. You were the one I saw that day."


    The girl blinked. "I don''t think we''ve ever met," she said, her voice no longer full of confidence as it had been during the duel, but tremulous, uncertain and fearful. "I - I hope it isn''t a problem, what I said. I know you must not believe me, about my father, but-"


    "I believe you," Keri said. "Your word is Kel, is it not?"


    Livara nodded. Her friends clustered around her, as if they would protect her from him. As if they could have; as if they would ever need to.


    "The House of Syv? is descended from Kelris, Vaedic Lord of Cold and Winter," Keri exined. "You have the look of them - the hair and the eyes. You have the word, with no one in the soutnds to have taught you. I don''t see how you can be anyone but what you im, and that means you are Vakansa, one of us."


    "Free people?" the girl asked, wrinkling her brow. He wondered if she knew how adorable it was.


    "The Vaedim called us Cotheeria," Keri exined. "When the war was over, we took a new name to mark a new beginning. To show that we were no longer ves, we put aside our ve name.


    A human boy with dark hair and dark eyes put his hand on Livara''s shoulder protectively. "Who are you?" he demanded.


    "I am Inkeris ka Ilmari, of the Unconquered House of B?lris," Keri responded. "My friends and family call me Keri," he continued. "You may, as well, Livara."


    "Liv," she said. "My friends call me Liv."


    "We have a great deal to speak about, Liv," Keri said. "I know you must be tired, but may Ambassador Sakari and I call upon you tomorrow?"


    A human woman of middle years, her dark hair bound tightly in a bun, strode forward. "Why don''t you bring the ambassador with you to luncheon with us at Acton House," she suggested. "We can speak more then, Inkeri of House B?lris."


    "Agreed." Keri nodded, then looked back to the girl. "You did well," he said. "You did your house proud." He allowed himself to meet those winter eyes for a brief moment, and thought he saw a hint of tears there. Then, he spun on his heel and stalked toward where the ambassador was arguing with Prince Benedict.


    "Whatever else happens here," Keri promised, his words nothing more than a whisper, "I will protect you."

 49. The Black Horse

    Liv spent the entire carriage ride from North Beach back into Freeport shaking. She''d managed to keep it together after the duel, when everyone rushed forward to congratte her, and even when the Elden man in the audience hade over. Inkeris ka Ilmari, she repeated his name to herself once again, so that she wouldn''t forget. He hadn''t expressed even a moment of doubt that she was who she said she was, and he and the ambassador wereing the next day. Liv went from smiling giddily to feeling faint.


    "You''ve got to breathe, Liv," Triss said, with a big grin on her face. The older girl put her hand on the back of Liv''s dress and began to move it in gentle circles. "No passing out before we even get to the inn."


    Liv nodded, then practiced her breathing. In, hold, out again. When her heart was no longer thumping like a runaway horse, she looked up. On the opposite bench, Matthew was watching her with obvious concern.


    "You all right, there?" he asked her.


    "I think I will be," Liv said. "I wasn''t sure it would all work, even at the end," she admitted. "I kept waiting for something to go wrong."


    "No worries there," Triss said. "You understand how ridiculous all that was, don''t you? People our age, who haven''t even been to Coral Bay, might know one or two spells, at most. No one but a full mage runs through five spells in a single duel."


    "Half of them connected," Matthew added. "That''s Liv, though. I guess now your secrets are out."


    The carriage rolled to a halt. "You going to be able to walk?" Triss asked.


    "I will." Liv reached out for her staff: having the length of wood in her hand was familiar,forting. "Where are we?"


    "Sign of the ck Horse," Matthew said. "Mother said this called for a few drinks, but I don''t think you heard her. Your boy Cade was following us over, and probably others, as well. She didn''t make a secret of where we were headed."


    "I don''t think I heard any of that," Liv admitted.


    "No, you didn''t look like you were aware of much after talking to that Eldish man," Triss told her. "He wasn''t a pain on the eyes, either. Come on, then."


    Matthew opened the door, then helped both of the girls out in turn. The ck Horse was a massive trading inn, Liv saw, with a great circr drive and a yard for parking wagons and carriages, as well as an attached stable. The building itself was nearly a hollow rectangle, enclosing the yard but for where the drive went under a sort of bridge made by the second and third floors of the building. The entire structure was framed by massive, exposed beams, and painted white between them.


    Two of the guards were already on their way in, while another was lifting Baron Henry into his wheeled chair. Liv allowed herself to be tugged along by Matthew and Triss, past a ragged young boy who''d taken up station against the wall of the inn.


    "A penny, miss?" the urchin called out to her, and Liv fumbled at her purse.


    "Here you are," she said, pressing a copper into his extended palm. "Go and get something hot to eat."


    "Just ignore them," Triss murmured to her, and tugged Liv through the door and into themon room.


    The bar and half the tables were filled by weather-beaten sailors, recognizable by the slops they were wearing: a canvas doublet and breeches, linen shirt and stockings, and often knitted caps. Many of them wore rings in their ears, and where their sleeves were rolled up Liv could see all manner of tattoos: anchors and fishes and mermaids and stars. The entire assembledpany raised their sses and cheered when the three young people entered.


    "They''re all from the Gant," Lady Julianne half-shouted,ing up behind Liv and putting one arm over her shoulders. "I told Captain Athearn I''d cover their drinks for the evening." With her other hand, she waved to the bar, and the sea captain raised a mug in response.


    "Why?" Liv asked.


    "In case there''s trouble," Matthew exined, leaning in. "Father and Mother own their ship, and they all know it. If anyonees here tonight looking for a fight, these boys will run them right out again."


    It was strange: though none of these men looked like the sort of people Liv would have gone out of her way to spend time with on a normal asion, the idea of the entiremon room being packed with men who would fight to defend her actually let her rx a great deal. Liv ended up at a table with Triss, Mathew, Cade Talbot, who arrived just as they were getting settled, and even Cecily Falkenrath and her brother.


    The dark-haired girl had arrived with a gaunt older man Liv presumed to be her father, the Duke of Cound, from the way that Lady Julianne, Master Grenfell, and Mistress Trafford all rose from their seats upon his arrival. Cecily''s father joined the table furthest away from themon room''s wooden stage, where Matthew''s parents settled deep into conversation with the other nobles. Liv picked out Triss'' father there, as well as others she didn''t recognize.


    Cecily, however, pulled Thurston, whom Liv had only seen once before, over to the closest table to the stage, where Triss had settled them all.


    "Congrattions," the duke''s daughter shouted over the noise. "That could have turned into an absolute mess, but you handled it about as well as anyone could have. I stayed long enough to hear the chirurgeons tell everyone she''d survive, and load her into a carriage."


    "That''s a relief," Liv said. "I never wanted to kill her." Someone had brought her a ss of wine, and she nearly choked when she took a sip. "What is this?"


    "Fortified wine," Cade exined. Somehow, he''d managed to end up on one side of her, with Triss on the other. "Be careful; it''s strong."


    "I saw you speaking to the Eld of the North," Thurston said, leaning forward across the table from where he and his sister had crammed in. "The ambassador was there, too, but father says that one hase to address the great council."


    "His name was Keri," Liv said.


    "Careful with that one," Cade broke in. "You heard what house he was from, didn''t you?"


    "The House of B?lris, he said," Liv recalled.


    "The Unconquered House of B?lris," Cecily said. "You know why they''re called that?"


    Liv shook her head, and Cade exined from next to her. "Because they never joined the war," he told her, leaning close to her ear. "Didn''t fight for the old gods, but didn''t fight for the trinity, either. They stood aside."


    "Unconquered because they never lost, like the ones who stayed loyal to the old gods did," Thurston finished.


    Before Liv could ask any further questions, the sound of a whistle broke over the room. She turned to the stage, and saw a group of sailors with instruments had taken up residence on the stools there. One had a small y whistle, which was what had drawn her attention. Another held a tambourine, while a third tuned a lute. The fourth, a man with a broad chest, took a long drink of ale and then set his cup aside before breaking out into the dirtiest song Liv had ever heard before:


    "We all do love the captain''s whore,


    She opens and closes like a door!"


    Liv gasped and felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning up. "I can''t believe he''s singing that!"


    "Come on!" Triss grabbed her by the arm and tugged Liv up and away from a table, out into the cleared bit of floor in front of the stage. As the whistle, mandolin, and tambourine came in, and the sailors shouted along with the lyrics, the two girls spun around arm in arm, and to her astonishment Liv couldn''t help butugh at the increasingly disgusting song. By the time it was done, Cecily had joined them, and all three girls copsed in a fit of giggles, gasping and calling for more wine.


    Another song followed the first, and the dancing, drinking andughing all seemed to blur together. Liv danced with Cecily and Triss again, and sometime during the night with both Thurston Falkenrath and Cade Talbot, in turn. Never with Matthew, she realizedter, though she did see him with both Triss and Cecily. The songs and her partners all seemed to blur together. She had once again the feeling of watching the world from a very great distance, as she had felt when using the waystone, except now she watched herself spinning and twirling and copsing in exhaustedughter.


    ?


    "Time to be up, mdy," Thora said, shaking Liv by the shoulder.


    Liv heard someone make a sound somewhere between a grunt and a moan in response, but her head hurt too much to sort out who it was. Instead, she rolled onto her side, tugging her nkets with her to be wrapped up tightly.


    "I see someone''s had a bit much to drinkst night," the maid said, with augh that was far too cheerful for the middle of the night. "If you don''t get up and dressed, mdy, you won''t be able to go with Lord Matthew to the fencing yard. I''m told you all made ns to meet Lady Crosbie there this morning."


    That stirred a fragment of memory of the night before, and Liv sat up. The moment she had, the suddenness of the motion stirred her belly in an awful way. "Chamber pot," she gasped, grabbing for Thora''s arm. Her maid only just managed to get the pot out from under the bed in time for Liv to throw up a truly foul mess into it.


    "I''m dying," she whined, falling back onto the mattress.


    "You''re not dying," Thora assured her. "Nowe on, mdy. Up you go." Somehow, the maid managed to haul Liv out of bed and help her wash and dress.


    "I don''t even remembering backst night," Liv realized, casting about the room for her staff.


    "Right over here against the wall, mdy," Thora said, leading her over to the corner. Once Liv had the staff in hand, she felt a little steadier. "You came back quitete, singing rude songs and drunk out of your skull, so I got you stripped down and into bed to sleep it off. I take it you won the duel, then."


    "I did," Liv said. "And then we went out to celebrate. I think I only remember half of it."


    "Let''s get you downstairs. A bit of food in your belly will help," Thora assured her.


    As it turned out, she was right. Liv started with toasted bread thered in fresh butter, and after a few slices of that felt well enough to devour a te of bacon. Matthew was already downstairs when she arrived, dressed in his practice clothes and wearing his rapier on his hip.


    "Where exactly are we going, then?" Liv asked, once they''d finished eating. He helped her up into the carriage that was waiting for them in front of the house, then took the opposite seat, closed the door, and thumped the roof once to set them off.


    "There''s a fighting club down on Gull Street," Matthew exined. "It''s where Triss goes to practice, and she invited us to meet her there this morning. Actually, we might see a few others there, as well; she didn''t exactly make a secret of it, and I think Thurston said something abouting."


    "I hardly remember any of that," Liv admitted, slouching back against the cushions and closing her eyes. Outside the carriage windows, the morning was far too bright.


    "Sorry about that," Matthew said. "You''re rather small, Liv, and I didn''t realize how much you''d had to drink until you were well and truly sted out of your mind. By that point, there was nothing to do but keep an eye on you and stop you from doing anything you''d regret."


    "I must''ve made a fool of myself," Liv realized.


    "Not too badly," Matthew told her. "Mostly, you just danced with the other girls a bit."


    "Nothing I''m going to find out about this morning, and regret?" Liv asked him, but Matthew justughed.


    The fight club was a dpidated old warehouse just far enough from the docks to put it out of the way: Liv guessed that the fencing club must have bought it up on the cheap after the previous owners went out of business. It had a nicerge yard, which had been surrounded by wooden stands, three levels high, to provide seating for those who were either taking a breather, or who hade to watch.


    As he wasn''t a member yet, Matthew paid a small admittance fee, then sent the carriage on the way with instructions toe back and pick them up in plenty of time to return to the house for luncheon.


    "There you two are!" Triss Crosbie shouted, bounding across the field to join them. She was wearing a padded fencing doublet, and carried a leather fencing mask in her left hand. "I see mydy has risen from her grave," she teased Liv.


    "I don''t know how you can possibly be both awake so early, and so cheerful, afterst night," Liv grumped.


    "Go take a seat by my father, over there," Triss told her. "I want to see if this brother of yours can actually fight or not."


    "Prepare to be impressed," Matthew said with a grin.


    "I''m prepared to be disappointed," Triss shot back. "But maybe you''ll surprise me."


    Liv left them to it, mbering up the stairs toward Baron Arnold Crosbie. "May I sit with you, my lord?" she asked him.


    "Afterst night, you''re something of the toast of the town," the older man told her. "Of course. Make yourselffortable. Henry told me you''re all hosting the Eldish ambassadors today."


    Liv arranged her skirts and settled her staff in the crook of her arm. "That''s right," she said. "Lady Julianne invited Lord Inkeris. I''m not entirely certain that''s the right form of address for him, however."


    "It does well enough," Crosbie told her. Together, they watched Triss and Matthew don their leather fencing masks and square off. Liv had gone through enough lessons at Whitehill to recognize they were both beginning in the third guard, which was a fairlymon choice. She''d personally always found first and second too tiring to remain in for long.


    "I feel a bit odd telling you what I know," Baron Arnold continued, as Triss made the first lunge. Matthew met her with a parry and riposte. "You''re half Eldish, if I understand correctly, so I feel like you should be exining things to me."


    "This is only the second time I''ve ever met one of the Vakansa," Liv admitted. She wasn''t surprised to see that Triss and Matthew seemed evenly matched: as much as a bone-headed idiot as he was for not putting more effort into his magic, he truly was quite good with a de.


    "My understanding is that each family is led by a group of elders," Arnold Crosbie exined. "There''s no guarantee he would take his father''s ce, but young Inkeris is the eldest surviving son of his family''s head elder. They had to send someone at least that important for the king to agree to this."


    "He''s here because of what happened, then?" Liv asked. "With the blood monsters. I heard they were here, and in Coral Bay, as well."


    "And at Valegard," Baron Arnold added. "Thomas Falkenrath told usst night they were in Cound, as well. At this point, I think it''s safe to assume they caused trouble basically everywhere in the kingdom. And if the Eld have sent someone south to talk about it, that means they were in the north, as well. It''s too soon for word to havee from Varuna, but House Sherard will be able to tell us what happened in Lendh ka Dakruim."


    "All over the world," Liv murmured. Below, Triss scored a point on Matthew''s shoulder, and they reset for another pass.


    "So it seems," Arnold said. "I''m going to bring Triss to luncheon at Acton House, to see whether the Eld will tell us all anything in advance. Julianne has well and truly roped us in now, I suppose."


    "I hope I haven''t caused you any trouble," Liv said.


    "If you have, you aren''t the one to me," the baron said. "You can do me a favor, though, if you feel guilty."


    "What''s that?" Liv asked.


    "Tell me about that boy down there," Arnold said, nodding to the yard below them. As they watched, Matthew got past Triss'' guard, trapped her rapier with his hilt, and threw her to the ground. The swords went flying as they tumbled end over end, until he managed to pin Triss beneath him.


    Liv sighed. "He''s a good boy," she said, finally. "Magic isn''t his talent, but he minds his parents, and he''s the first one to throw himself in the way of danger. He takes it seriously, you know: that the barons exist to protect people. What happened to his father doesn''t scare him off at all. In fact, I think it drives him to practice harder."


    "I could find worse, I suppose," Arnold said. "No alliance is truly sealed until it''s done with a marriage. But there''s time yet; they both need to go learn what they can from the mage''s guild."


    "I''m a bit surprised Triss would be going to Coral Bay," Liv admitted. "I don''t know what her word is, but she keeps telling me it isn''t good for duels, isn''t good for the flower game..."


    "Derk," the baron told her. "To see." He stood up. "Beatrice!" he shouted. "Stop ying around. Go ahead and show the boy what you can really do."


    Triss turned, offered her father a salute with her rapier, and then fell back into a guard opposite Matthew. This time, when they moved together, it was entirely different. Triss seemed to know what Matthew was going to do before he did it, and her de casually met his time and again, always a step ahead, no matter what trick he attempted. Liv realized, after the third pass, that she was ying with him, and could have ended it whenever she wanted. Finally, she disarmed Matthew entirely and caught him with the tip of her rapier under his chin.


    "That''s your word, is it?" Liv asked.


    "There it is," Baron Arnold said. "Not much good for shaping flowers, as you say. But we make do."

 50. The One Who鈥檚 There

    "You need to take a bath," Livined to Matthew as their carriage returned to Acton House. "In fact, I think your mother should just sell the carriage and buy a new one."


    Matthew sprawled across the opposite bench, his clothes covered in dirt. His leather fencing mask rattled about on the carriage floor whenever they took a turn, and his left wrist was tightly wrapped in linen bandages. "Blood and Shadows that girl can fight," he eximed. "I think I''m in love. Can you cool down these bandages again, Liv? This really hurts."


    She rolled her eyes, leaned across the carriage, and touched the linens with two fingers. "Celet Co," Liv intoned, allowing only the tiniest sliver of mana to make its way out of her finger. She didn''t know the word for bandages or linens, so she used the singr pronoun for this, and shaped her intent to affect only what she touched. Frost spiderwebbed its way across the surface of the linen wraps, and she immediately withdrew her hand and cut off the flow of mana.


    "That''s better," Matthew moaned, closing his eyes.


    When the carriage rolled to a stop in the drive, Liv didn''t wait for him. Instead, she opened the door herself and jumped down. "Remember," she called back into the carriage. "Clean yourself up and get changed."


    Thora was waiting for Liv on her way in, but Liv didn''t let her get a word out. "Before we go upstairs, I need you to show me to the kitchen."


    "We need to do your hair, mdy," Thora protested.


    "After the kitchen. The Eld have very particr needs when ites to food," Liv exined. "And there''s no one in this house who understands that better than I do."


    Thora sighed. "This way."


    A wall of smells hit her as soon as the maid opened the door, and for just a moment Liv could almost believe that she was back at Castle Whitehill, and that when she walked in she''d be able to give her mother a hug, or sing a cooking song with Gretta. But she knew it wasn''t true, so she walked on.


    "Lady Liv!" one of the cooking maids eximed, and the cook himself spun around. He was a portly man with a neat mustache and close cropped ck hair, wearing a linen apron.


    "None of you have done anything wrong," Liv said, walking over to the space between the massive hearth and the table. "And I apologize for interrupting, I know you must be very busy preparing lunch. I wanted to say that you''ve all done a wonderful job with my food over the past couple of days, and that I appreciate it, because I know it''s been extra work."


    "Nonsense, it''s been our privilege," the cook said. "We should apologize that the house wasn''t properly stocked the moment you arrived."


    "Lady Julianne hadn''t visited in years," Liv said. "There''s no reason it should have been. May I see what you''re preparing for our guests, Master...?"


    "Calvert, mdy," the cook said. "Come over here, please." Liv came over to the counter and stood by while he showed her dish after dish: some finished and cooling, others still in progress. "To begin with, we have wild Cound hens wrapped in bacon, which is of course sourced from butchered wild boar, both animals hunted in the shoals of a rift. I couldn''t tell you which one, mdy, my apologies. They aren''t fresh, but preserved in the enchanted cold boxes the guilds use for shipping."


    "Those will be good," Liv said, nodding. "And these?"


    "Roasted conies, also from shoals. Then we have a tter of nuts and cheese. The cheese is not enriched, sadly, but all the chestnuts, walnuts, and hazelnutse from forest rifts. For dessert, a variety of berry tarts. The dough is just that, but all the berries are mana-rich."


    "Excellent. You''ve done a wonderful job," Liv said. "Thank you so much, and I''m sure everyone will be delighted. I''m sorry to have interrupted you."


    "Not at all," Calvert said. "The rumor is you know your way around a kitchen, mdy."


    "I started as a scullion maid," Liv told him, with a grin. "And my mother''s the cook at Castle Whitehill. Maybe I''lle down and help you out sometime."


    "If Basil hears about that, he''ll die of scandal," Thora said. "Alright, you''ve seen the menu. Come along upstairs now, mdy, and let me get you fixed up."


    As Thora had been a good sport about taking her to the kitchen, Liv tried not to give her any more trouble, and even agreed to wear a set ofbs in her hair that were set with pearls. Apparently, it had been decided that pearls were her jewel, and silver her metal, by somebination of Lady Julianne and thedies'' maids.


    Every time Liv saw her closets, chests, and drawers opened, there appeared more and more dresses, shoes, bracelets and nes. If she hadn''t known better quite well, she might have believed her new wardrobe was magic.


    Finally, she made it downstairs and to the library, where the buzz of conversation greeted Liv out in the hall. "Ah, excellent," Lady Julianne said,ing over to meet her at the door. "Ambassador, Lord Inkeris, please allow me to present Apprentice Liv Brodbeck of the mages'' guild - or Livara, I suppose, now that it''s out in public."


    Liv recognized the younger of the two Elden men, though Inkeris was no longer wearing armor or carrying that great spear he''d had down on the beach the night before. The older of the two she judged to be the ambassador, and both were wearing simr gray brocade robes. While Keri''s long hair was blonde, the ambassador''s was ck, streaked with gray. Liv wondered how old he must be to show such visible signs of age.


    "You are a wee sight, again," Keri said, sping her hand in his own. "I had thought that Ambassador Sakari and his guards would be the only Vakansa here in Freeport. I don''t believe you had a chance to meet the Ambassador after the duel."


    "I did not," Liv said, extending her hand to the older man. Unlike Keri, he greeted her in the human way, bowing over her hand.


    "Livara T?r Valtteri Kaen Syv?," Ambassador Sakari said, releasing her. "Forgive me - you look so much like your namesake."


    "You knew my aunt?" Liv asked, suddenly finding herself breathless. "And - my father?"


    "I did," Sakari said. "Or I do, in your father''s case. I can see him in you, also. If you looked differently, more human, there might be some doubt. But the blood of Celris is so clear in your eyes, your hair and face, that there can be no question of your ancestry."


    "Come, why don''t we all have a seat by the fire," Baron Henry suggested. Liv noticed that Matthew hadn''t arrived yet, and she hoped that meant he''d taken her advice about cleaning up seriously. She found herself seated on one of the benches next to Lady Julianne, facing the two Elden men.


    "Can you tell me about him?" Liv asked. "I only know what my mother has said."


    "I met him thirty-one years ago," Sakari said, epting a cup of wine from Archibald. "When he led a delegation on behalf of your family here, to negotiate with the guilds. It wasn''t long after his sister had died, and I could tell that her loss affected him greatly. He did his best to put on a show of good cheer, but when he thought no one was looking there was a great sadness that lingered about him. Loss will do that to a man. We knew that he''d stopped first at Whitehill, and then in Cound, on his way here."


    "Why didn''t he use the waystones?" Keri asked. When Liv turned to look at him, he shrugged. "Thirty years ago I wasn''t an adult yet," he admitted. "I heard about the disaster at the Tomb of Celris, of course: everyone did. But trade negotiations were not the sort of thing I was paying much attention to at the time."


    "It was an opportunity to build rtionships," Sakari answered. "Travelling bynd. It meant that he was feasted at every court along the journey, in ces where people could not remember thest time one of our people had visited. And I suspect his father also wanted to extend the journey, as a distraction."


    "He must have loved his sister a great deal," Julianne remarked.


    "That''s how Mama knew to give me her name," Liv said. "He told her all about it. Well, some at least. She said he was very sad, and that she felt like he needed someone to talk to."


    "I don''t envy you the task of living up to that name," the ambassador admitted. "Inkeris here has built a reputation storming back and forth across the north over the past decade, but she was the kind of talent thates only once a century, if that."


    "Has there been fighting in the north?" Baron Henry asked.


    Inkeris frowned. "I will speak about it during the council," he said.


    "Is my father involved?" Liv asked, but before the young man could answer, Matthew burst through the doorway.


    "My apologies," he said. "I had to get cleaned up after a morning of fencing."


    "Matthew," Lady Julianne said, in a very even voice that told Liv she was an inch away from giving him a tongueshing, "why do you have a ck eye?"


    "Well, I didn''t think it would be this bad," Matthew said, throwing himself down into an empty chair. "But it swelled up a lot since we got back. Triss got me good."


    "Luncheon is served," Basil called from the doorway, and everyone rose. Julianne took the handles of her husband''s chair, and led the way out of the library and over to the dining room.


    "That was excellent timing," Liv told the steward as she went by him.


    Basil''s eyes twinkled. "All part of my duty, mydy," he said.


    ?


    Liv didn''t find a chance to steer the conversation back to whatever Keri had been doing north of Al''Fenthia until dessert.


    "When do you leave for Coral Bay, Matthew?" Ambassador Sakari asked.


    "After the masque," Lady Julianne answered. "All of the students will go at the same time, using the waystone. But Matthew will be presented to my father first."


    "Coral Bay is the college of magic?" Keri asked, taking a sip of his wine.


    "Yes. Liv will be going in six years," Julianne said. "So far as our chirurgeons could tell, we''ll consider her an adult at thirty-six years."


    "That young?" Keri looked Liv over. "How old are you right now, then? Thirty?"


    Liv nodded. "How old is one considered an adult among the Vakansa, then?"


    "Seventy-two is the usual number," Ambassador Sakari said.


    "And how old are you, Keri?" Liv asked.


    "One hundred this winter," he answered. "But surely you''lle north, now?"


    The sound of Julianne''s fork on her desert te was suddenly quite loud.


    "I don''t know," Liv admitted. "I have - a lot of choices to make, it sounds like. But I certainly wouldn''t want to go north until I know what you''ve been fighting up there." She looked Keri in the eye firmly, determined to hold his gaze until he gave her a straight answer.


    "I think that''s only fair," Matthew said. "If there''s some sort of war going on, she''d be putting herself in danger."


    "Not a war," Ambassador Sakari said. "Merely a small bit of trouble."


    "If it isn''t important, then it shouldn''t be a problem to tell me," Liv insisted.


    Keri sighed and set his wine down on the table. "I''ve been hunting a cult dedicated to the worship of Ractia, V?dic Lady of Blood," he said. "Sometimes known as the Great Mother. At first we thought it was just a few worshippers, but now I''ve smoked out cells all across the north."


    Liv''s throat was suddenly very dry, and she reached for her wine. She did her best not to think of a wild-haired woman at a window, holding a white statue in her hand.


    "Does this have anything to do with these monsters cropping up everywhere?" Matthew asked.


    "I believe that it does," Keri said. "On the day it happened, I was leading a raid. They must have been making sacrifices before the altar, because there was blood everywhere once we got inside. It all rose up, at once, and beganshing out at my men. I lost three good warriors that day."


    "It was like that in Whitehill, too," Liv broke in. "Not the sacrifices, or anything, but - we fought one at an inn, when the innkeeper cut himself. And then there was one out in the fields that I had to fight, as well."


    "Then you know how dangerous these things can be," Keri said, leaning forward. "I believe this is all connected. It can''t be a coincidence, that this cult is active at the same time monstrosities of blood begin wreaking havoc all across the east. We don''t have word from Varuna yet, but I expect the council will have news from Lendh ka Dakruim. We need to work together to find out what caused this, and whether it''s actually over, or if it will get worse."


    "House Sherard controls the trade out of Lendh ka Dakruim," Julianne said. "Which means they control the information, as well."


    "The queen controls it," Henry said. "Might as well say it out loud."


    "Surely they''ll agree this is important," Matthew said. "Won''t they?"


    "They care about the session," Julianne said. "Which means they''re more focused on the threat they believe me to be than anything else. It was my father who called the great council, not her."


    "Which brings us to another point," Keri said, pointing at Liv. "She is far too wrapped up in a human session. It''s already risked her life once."


    "I''m sitting right here," Liv snapped at him.


    "I''ve already sent word to your father, Livara," Ambassador Sakari said. "I expect him within a few days. He will use the waystones, ande as fast as he can."


    "My father''sing here?" Liv had a hard time breathing. She wasn''t ready for this. Would he want her? Would he be angry that she''d been kept a secret from him? Maybe she looked too much like his dead sister, and he wouldn''t be able to bear being around her.


    "Of course Liv should meet her father," Julianne said. "But she''s grown up at Whitehill. Her mother is there. You can''t expect her to instantly go running off north the moment he appears in her life."


    "You believe it would be more appropriate for you and your husband to adopt her?" Ambassador Sakari asked. "And after she goes to Coral Bay, I suppose that she can marry the Talbot boy who''s been sniffing around her? I have my sources of information, don''t look so surprised, Lady Julianne."


    "I''m not marrying anyone," Liv said, but they all kept right on talking over her.


    "Coral Bay is the best ce for her to learn to use her magic," Julianne argued. "Archmagus Loredan is there."


    "Our people have forgotten more about magic than your mages'' guild has ever known," Keri shot back. "It isn''t safe for her to be here. Have you had mana-sickness yet, Livara?"


    Everyone turned toward her, and Liv froze. After a moment, she nodded.


    "There it is," Keri said. "And the chirurgeons carved it out of your flesh, didn''t they? You need to let us teach you starting immediately, before they hurt you any worse than they already have."


    "That isn''t your decision to make," Julianne hissed. "She''s still a child."


    "Who makes her decisions then? You?" The ambassador snapped. "I notice those adoption papers haven''t been signed and returned yet."


    "Stop!" Liv shouted, shoving her chair back and standing up. "Just stop, all of you. Do any of you even care to hear what I want?"


    She looked up and down the table, and felt tears welling in her eyes. This wasn''t how anything was supposed to be. Her father wasing. This should have been happy, instead of - whatever was happening.


    "You clearly don''t need me here," Liv said. "So I''ll leave you to it. I suppose you can tell me what you''ve all decided when you''re finished." She walked over to the wall, snatched up her staff, and stormed out of the room.


    "Liv!" Lady Julianne called after her. "We just want what''s best for you!"


    Without answering, Liv rushed out into the back garden, then down the stairs toward the sea. When she got down to the beach, she paced back and forth for a moment, feeling that she might explode - like lightning against ice. Finally, she just screamed, as loud and long as she could, and then sat down on the dunes.


    "Liv?" She jumped when she heard the voice, and turned to see Cade Talbot hurrying up the shore. "Are you alright?"


    She sat there on the sand, trembling, and didn''t object when he put an arm around her. Mama wasn''t there, and Gretta wasn''t there. Not even Emma, or a castle mouser to scoop up and squeeze, and Liv needed someone.


    "I just," she gasped, wiping at her eyes with her hands. "None of them will listen to me, not a single one. It''s like they don''t care what I want at all."


    Finally, Liv gave up and let the tearse. She wrapped her arms around Cade, and cried into his shoulder. He may not have been her mother, but at least he was here when she needed him.


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