Keeper: First Ordinance, Book 2 Read online

  "Mom always made a cake at the full moon, because we were hungry after the change."

  "Dessert—after rats and mice?"

  "We-ell," he tried to smother a chuckle. "Our neighbors never complained about the lack of vermin."

  "Koop, stop making me laugh," I said. "I almost snorted coffee."

  * * *

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  "Quinnie, I hear you have worries." Kaldill handed a plate of food to Justis and took a chair nearby.

  "I think Siriaa's end is coming sooner than we think," I said. "I can't say exactly why that is—I only feel it coming."

  "Willem sent mindspeech earlier, telling me he feels some sort of shift," Kaldill nodded. "He can't say what it is, either, and that worries both of us. Willem is the best seer among my elves, and when he says something isn't right, then everyone should listen. When my Quinnie says the same thing, then we really ought to pay attention."

  "She says we may have a moon-turn," Justis said before biting into a piece of bread he'd coated with butter.

  "Willem also says time is short, although he cannot say how long," Kaldill sighed. "I fear Kondar will feel it necessary to take a vote, and that will devour time."

  "I don't know what to do—where is Berel?" I asked.

  "Berel is not happy with me," Justis said.

  "Berel is young," Kaldill said. "Although I am still angry, I understand Quin's view on this."

  "I'm going to find Berel," I said, pushing my legs toward the side of the bed.

  "I'll take you," Kaldill offered. "Stay here and finish your meal, I'll bring her back," Kaldill motioned for Justis to sit after he half-rose to follow us. Placing an arm around my shoulders, Kaldill transported me to the Library.

  * * *

  "Quinn, are you sure you should be out of bed?" Gurnil hovered the moment Kaldill made me comfortable on a chair at our usual table. Berel sat on the opposite side, watching me closely. Until my arrival, he'd been toying with his tab-vid. "What did you learn?" I asked, speaking to Berel instead of acknowledging Gurnil's worry.

  "I've connected with the research facility—they say the poison creatures are multiplying at a rate comparable to that of a virus, but by their calculations, we should still have three of your moon-turns before the population is in real danger."

  "I worry that we are all in terrible danger," I dropped my eyes. "I can't describe it, Berel, but something gnaws at me."

  "Willem feels the same," Kaldill held up a hand to prevent Berel from protesting. "I learned long ago to listen carefully when Willem voices a warning, and when Quin verifies it, then we should all take heed."

  "I'll speak with Father," Berel sounded stiff.

  "Berel, please," I held out my hand to him. "I care for you. I care for your father. I don't want anything to happen to either of you. Or the people of Kondar and Yokaru."

  "I've sent a message to Queen Lissa already, and to the Larentii," Kaldill said. "But we can't do anything without the permission of Kondar or Yokaru. I beg you to speak with your father now," Kaldill said. "I promise to do what I can, as long as you and your father promise to do the same."

  Berel blinked at me. I held out my hand to him still, but it became shaky as I waited. With a sigh, his fingers gripped mine, keeping them from trembling. "Wait," he said, letting my hand go. I must have made some noise, because he moved around the table quickly, took the empty seat next to me and placed both arms around my shoulders.

  "I will talk to my father, but I want you and Kaldill here with me when I do."

  * * *

  Le-Ath Veronis

  Queen Lissa's Private Journal

  "Where can we put them?" Ildevar asked.

  "There are two unoccupied continents on Morningsun," I pointed out. "Large ones, although they're connected by a narrow land bridge. Surely the continent of Cloudsong II won't mind—it's an ocean away and they don't have even a fourth of their area occupied."

  "You're talking of bringing in two separate political systems, with new rulers and politicians," Ildevar observed. "Cloudsong II's King will desire a meeting and a compatibility study. Trade will have to be considered—travel, too."

  "According to Kaldill, Willem and Quin, we may not have the luxury of time to work all those things out," I said. "Nobody knows exactly what's going on, but they're worried. I say we make this a temporary move, until the niceties can be arranged."

  "I hate to move a population too many times—it's detrimental to everyone involved," Ildevar mused.

  "I know. We still have to consider the other worlds affected by the poison—they may need a refuge before this is over. You know how I hate Alliance Enclaves, but we may have to call one."

  "You hate them? I detest them," Ildevar grumbled. "At least I can eat regular meals, now, instead of an entire sheep or cow away from prying eyes."

  "I've watched you eat," I said. "You have good manners, at least."

  "Lissa, don't make me laugh."

  * * *

  Vogeffa I

  "Lord Cayetes, there's been another delay," Vardil's assistant hesitated and almost ducked as Vardil Cayetes turned toward him.

  "What in the name of my brother is it this time?" Vardil hissed.

  "The comp-specs aren't right," the assistant mumbled. "You understand why we can't test the equipment first—we only have one shot—at your command."

  "Tell them I want this done quickly—we still have to transport it around Alliance patrols and that will take time," Vardil's voice was cold. "If I'm ill enough to die, then I want Marid's accomplices dead, too."

  "Of course, Lord Cayetes."

  * * *

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  "A vote can't be called in less than two eight-days, and that's in extreme emergencies," Edden said. "Then we'll have to consider the move itself if that's the vote of the majority—that will involve the decisions of what to take and what to leave behind." I watched his brow furrow—he was quite worried. "Do we have that long?" he asked.

  "I don't know." I wanted to weep at my admission—I had no idea why the danger felt as if it were fluctuating from one moment to the next.

  "I'm glad you're alive, Quin. I saw the vids," Edden interrupted our conversation to say.

  "Thank you. I'm glad, too," I agreed. "Although I have no memory of the time in between."

  "I have no memory of when you healed me," Berel said, gripping my fingers tighter. He'd held my hand the whole time we'd spoken with his father. "I regret that," he added.

  "I remember it," Edden smiled. "It was a happy day when you came to us, Quin."

  "I was happy to heal that day," I said. "It was only right to do it."

  "What will you place on the ballot, and how soon will the Kondari know what they're voting on?" Kaldill asked, bringing us back to our original topic.

  "We can devise the comp-ballot in two days and submit it to all in a communication," Edden said. "I shall do this, but I warn you, it will meet with much opposition. Most are of the mind that the poison will be brought under control. I have no idea how to present this and expect them to believe it so quickly."

  "Has everyone seen the newsvid of Quin at the battle?" Kaldill asked.

  I blinked at him—I had no idea why he'd ask such a thing, and it made me embarrassed to think that people had recorded it anyway.

  "I believe most have seen it several times," Edden replied, his voice dry. "There are fangroups that have formed, all speculating as to her current condition and every other thing about her."

  My breath almost stopped as an idea formed. "High President," I breathed, "May I ask for sympathetic journalists to be contacted? I will grant an interview."

  "What?" Kaldill's voice was sharp as he turned to me. After a moment, though, he nodded. "Yes. Call for journalists. Honest ones who are trusted. Quin will grant an interview."

  * * *

  Harifa Edus

  Fyris II

  "I find myself wishing Quin were here," Rodr
ik spoke softly to Beatris. "Amlis has been having fits of melancholy since he learned his mother and my father died so swiftly after we left."

  "They were warned," Beatris gripped Rodrik's hand. "I spoke with Reah when she was here. She says that we may have a child within two sun-turns."

  "What?" Rodrik's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure? That is so soon after your illness, my love."

  "I don't know whether I should trust healers when they say this, but Reah's word I believe," Beatris said. "I feel better than I ever have, now. I wish Quin were here; she could say immediately whether that is the case."

  "We're back to Quin," Rodrik breathed. "She could help Amlis, I have no doubt. I worry, however, that she has enough to do where she is."

  "Will she ever come back to us?"

  "My dear, she was never ours to begin with."

  * * *

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  I had three days to prepare for the interview. Rather than fretting over it, I decided to spend the time recuperating and reading Ulrin's journal. Eventually I reached the pages describing his best years—when he was selected as physician to Prince Tandelis.

  He described the wife Tandelis took, who became ill during her first pregnancy and died when the child came too early. Tandelis' grief was described in detail, and Ulrin wrote that he doubted whether Tandelis would ever remarry.

  He hadn't, leaving no heir and the way to the throne ripe for Tamblin and Yevil to usurp with a handful of deaths.

  I had to get through many years' notes, then, to reach the point where Tandelis was murdered—and it was noted that it angered Ulrin greatly. Had Tamblin known of Ulrin's distaste for him, he'd have had the physician murdered as well.

  Disappointment clouded my mind when I found nothing at all about me during that time, as it was then that my appearance was first reported by those in the castle kitchens. I took a moment to curse Halthea and the missing pages in Jurris' book before setting the journal aside—Dena was bringing gossip with my midday meal.

  Chapter 14

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  "Justis has been with the King and the Council all morning," Dena whispered as I ate. "Berel and Kaldill asked for a meeting, but Ordin said you were still too weak to handle that sort of ordeal, so they didn't call for you to attend."

  "It doesn't matter," I shrugged. "You know how most of the Council feels about me anyway. I doubt much has changed."

  "They should listen anyway—Berel and Kaldill are telling them what happened to the people in Fyris, and why the ones who didn't die were taken elsewhere."

  "You know most of the Avii won't want to go anywhere," I said, spearing a tiny potato with my fork and biting into it.

  "I know. My mother is one of them. Change is so hard for most people."

  "Change isn't any easier for you or me," I pointed out. "We just recognize the necessity of it."

  "Ardis says we're young," Dena frowned. "That we haven't lived long enough."

  "I think that's rather prejudicial," I said. "I believe Gurnil and Ordin recognize the danger, as does Kaldill, and I can't guess at Kaldill's age."

  "He's really a king?" Dena's voice softened.

  "I—yes." I didn't say that Kaldill was more important as a king than Jurris would ever be. Dena counted Jurris as her King, and that was more significant to her.

  "Maybe it's because we saw Fyris," Dena said. "If my mother had gone, it may have made a difference to her."

  "Nobody should go there now, unless they wish to die," I responded. "That's how dangerous it is."

  "Where will we go—if we leave?" Dena asked. A part of her wanted to leave, while another part wanted to stay. For her, much depended on Ardis.

  "I will tell you this, as your friend," I said. "This is what I know—none who stay will survive. I want you to live. That's why I went to Kondar—I wanted them to live, too."

  "I know."

  She did—in some ways. In other ways, she didn't understand at all. Siriaa's days were numbered, and I had no way to impress that fact upon any of its population.

  "Ah, she's eating already," Berel and Kaldill arrived, bearing trays of food.

  "I haven't finished yet," I said. "Please, sit and eat with me."

  Justis walked in just as they were pulling up chairs. Berel didn't speak to Justis, but at least he didn't leave the room. I was surprised, however, when Daragar appeared, fashioned a large chair with the power he held and took a seat behind the others.

  I have a terrible fear that many people will die—by their own choice, I sent to him.

  I know. The Wise Ones say the same. Do not blame yourself—it is a choice many make, and one we may see as preventable at best and a terrible choice at worst, he returned.

  Do you know how those from Fyris are doing? I asked.

  Yes—most of them are enjoying their lives for the first time since they can remember. Their animals are thriving and they have enough food to eat. Amlis, however, is depressed and has been since he learned of his mother's and uncle's deaths so quickly after he left Siriaa.

  Their choice, I dropped my eyes to my plate. We were back to that again—choices. Had they known they'd die so swiftly? Was it a mercy that they had, rather than lingering with the poison sickness or the wasting disease? There'd been no healers or relief left for them in Fyris—they were on their own.

  Perhaps I will take you to speak with someone who understands these things—that the lives most lead may not be the only lives they've lived or will live.

  What if, I began, before hesitating. What if, I repeated, this is the only life I've ever had? Something in me wanted to say it as fact, but I knew little about myself, after all. I'd stopped reading Ulrin's journal for now—I felt it had gone past the point where any mention of me would be made.

  I do not know about that, and what you say may be true, Daragar replied. Still, one who is wise may convince you, whereas I cannot.

  "Queen Lissa may have found a place for Siriaa's refugees," Kaldill's voice broke into our mental conversation. Somehow, he knew we were talking, and likely guessed at the main subject of our debate. "I've already informed Jurris," Kaldill added.

  I wanted to ask if Jurris had made a decision so badly the words trembled on my lips. Holding my question back, I asked another, instead. "Where?" It was simple. Direct.

  "There is a world called Morningsun," Kaldill replied. "A beautiful world, actually, deserted long ago by a race who could transport themselves from one place to another. So strong was their wanderlust, they never returned. They found it far easier to prey upon the efforts of other worlds, rather than growing, gathering, making or herding."

  "They found no joy in such?" Dena asked. "That sounds strange to me."

  "They were a strange people and nearly all of them perished, due to their own foolishness. Only a few survive, now, and they live elsewhere while they attempt to rebuild the race."

  "Do they still wander from place to place?" I asked.

  "The ability was taken away from most of them," Kaldill shrugged. "By Queen Lissa, who has some of that race in her bloodline."

  "I see there's a story in that," I said. "Perhaps you'll tell me, someday."

  "I'll let Lissa tell it—she knows it firsthand."

  "All right." I set my plate aside and hugged myself—I had no stories to tell. No known bloodline, either. I belonged nowhere. It troubled me.

  "Ordin says you may come back to your bedroom tomorrow," Justis said. I watched his hands as he ate—they were strong hands with long, well-shaped fingers. He'd gotten those from his father; Jurris' hands were smaller, the fingers shorter. Did I have a parent who gave me my hands? My hair or my skin? Who'd given me wings?

  "Quin, perhaps a visit to the Library?" Kaldill suggested. "I think a glass of wine will not cause undue harm."

  "Where is the metal box?" I asked. I struggled to keep the quaver from my voice.

  "Gurnil has it in his study," Kaldill answered, although
I could see he didn't want to do so.

  "Perhaps Berel should do the interview," I said. "He has a true connection to this world."

  "What?" Dena sounded shocked.

  "Surely you know by now that I have no connections to Siriaa. My DNA—that thing that determines kinship—is like nothing anybody on Siriaa has. Not even those from Fyris or the Avii."

  "Quin, I see that this troubles you greatly," Kaldill set his plate aside and stood. "Perhaps we should table this discussion for another time, when you feel better. I know this is rather forward, but one of us should hold you now."

  "I will take her," Daragar said immediately. His chair disappeared when he rose. He then lifted me easily off the bed and I was transported elsewhere.

  * * *

  "Where are we?" I asked. Daragar continued to carry me through an immense, brightly lit room, lined with shelves and displays of objects, both strange and familiar.

  "The Larentii Archives," Daragar smiled and bent his head to kiss me. He tasted of sunlight and warm days. I huddled against him as he carried me past the first room and into another—and then another.

  "Welcome." Nefrigar greeted us with a smile.

  I burst into tears.

  * * *

  Avii Castle

  "I was forced to place a healing sleep—the distraction failed to work," Daragar settled Quin on her bed in Justis' suite. He felt it would be better for her to wake there than in the healing suite.

  "Nefrigar wishes to see the metal box," Daragar continued.

  "Will he come here?" Kaldill asked, brushing hair away from Quin's face. She slept peacefully in the healing sleep Daragar had placed, oblivious to the conversation around her.

  "He will. Meet us in the Library in a few moments."

  "Good. I believe Berel is already there."

  * * *

  "This is a stasis box," Nefrigar examined the metal container carefully. "It was designed around Quin's small body at the time—that much is evident."

  "Have you seen such before?" Kaldill asked.

  "I have one in the Archives, although it is not as sophisticated as this one."

  "How long do you suppose she was in that thing?"

  "Difficult to say," Nefrigar replied. "There are no markings anywhere." He'd even removed the padding inside to check the bottom of the container. "The metal is standard titanium, but without further study, it would be impossible to say where it was manufactured."