“Do you believe in Volgs?” Drummor asked.

Felitïa gave Drummor his change, leaned on the counter, and thought a moment. He had been blabbering on for some time, but this was the first moment he had given her a real chance to say something. “There are a lot of reputable works that document their existence, so I suppose so. Why?”

“Agernon says it’s all nonsense,” he replied. His thoughts were strong at the moment, and the amount of sexual attraction he was feeling towards her was making her very uncomfortable. “He says they may have once existed, but if they did, they’re certainly extinct by now.”

“That’s possible,” she said. “It’s been centuries since anyone’s seen one.”

“Exactly,” he went on excitedly. “The stories say they were banished to an island in the Great Ocean, never allowed to interact with the rest of the world again. But Agernon says that to survive on their own there, they would need an entirely self-sufficient economy, which would be virtually impossible when they weren’t native to the island. They would need at least some assistance from the rest of the world, which the stories say they weren’t allowed to get.”

She nodded. “Okay, so what’s your point?”

“Well, what if they did survive despite the odds? There have been no verified sightings of Volgs in centuries, sure, but there have been many stories. Think about all those stories of Volg shapechangers. Maybe they use that ability to infiltrate us and get what they need.”

“I suppose so.” Normally, this kind of debate would draw her right in, which was something she was certain Drummor was counting on. They would debate the merits of individual stories, whether or not they were reliable accounts, and so on. However, the strength of his true thoughts was just too distracting. Drummor could be a great study partner, but that was before he started to think of her they way he thought of her now. Couldn’t he tell she wasn’t interested?

Drummor began to go on about the story of Zandromeda the Volg Killer, while Felitïa tried glancing around the rest of the room for anything that might take her mind off his thoughts. Elderaan was the only other person in the shop, and she could see that he was watching her. He looked amused by the whole situation. Unfortunately, she couldn’t detect his thoughts because Drummor’s drowned out everything else.

Ever since she’d developed these telepathic/empathic/whatever-they-were abilities, they’d defied her every attempt to learn to control them. There was nobody in Quorge who had any experience with telepaths, and the supposedly vast knowledge stores of the Hall of Knowledge had proven useless—some accounts of historical telepaths, some treatises on the physiology of telepathy, some wild theories on the nature of thoughts themselves, but nothing on how to use and control the abilities. It seemed that no actual telepaths had ever bothered to sit down and write about their experiences—or if they had, the Hall of Knowledge had never acquired their work.

So Felitïa was stuck with abilities that waxed and waned unpredictably. Sometimes, she could almost hear the precise thoughts of others around her whether she wanted to or not. Other times, she got vague impressions of feelings. Sometimes, there was nothing, as if she didn’t have any telepathic abilities at all. And they could be anywhere in between.

At the moment, her abilities were having one of their flare ups. She couldn’t hear Drummor’s exact thoughts, but she was getting vague images with his emotions. The latest involved her and him entangled... She winced.

Every now and then, with extreme concentration, she could block them out for a short period of time, so she tried now. It wasn’t working. For a brief moment, Elderaan’s amusement overpowered Drummor’s lust. She thought she could hear him laughing. No wait, she could see he really was chuckling over in his corner. Figured. At least Drummor had the courtesy not to vocalize or otherwise act on his thoughts.

The door opened and a teenage girl of maybe sixteen entered the shop. She was a Folith with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. Felitïa watched her as she moved about the store, looking at the items on the shelves. Most of Elderaan’s customers were regulars, and so Felitïa knew most of them, but she had never seen this girl before. It wasn’t all that unusual to see someone new, but they were rarely this young—unless they were someone’s apprentice, but in that case, they were usually with their master. It was also possible she was just a casual passerby. That did happen from time to time, so Felitïa wasn’t sure what drew her attention to this girl at this time. Something in the back of the jumble of feelings overpowered by Drummor’s. Felitïa continued to watch her.

“So anyway,” Drummor said, running his fingers through his dark hair. He had noticed that she wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, and she could feel how nervous he was becoming. “I don’t yet have a date for the New Year’s celebrations next week. I thought maybe you might like to go with me. Are you listening?”

“I…I’m busy,” Felitïa answered, still watching the girl who was looking through some recently arrived herbs from Ninifin. There was something about the girl, something familiar, like Felitïa had seen her somewhere before. Felitïa forced herself to stop staring, and turned her eyes back to Drummor.

“Oh, well, if you already have a date, it’s okay,” Drummor said.

“No, it’s not that,” Felitïa said. “It’s just... Well, I’ll be with Elderaan the whole time. He’s got some...” She wracked her mind to come up with an excuse as fast as she could. “Some lesson he wants to teach me. Something to do with concentration in crowds or something. You know me and my concentration problems. You’d be bored.”

She glanced over at Elderaan, who had gone over to see the young girl. He glanced back at Felitïa accusingly. Yes, so she’d lied. What else was she supposed to do?

“Oh. Well, another time maybe,” Drummor said.

“Yeah, maybe,” she lied.

“Well, there’s this...” he started up, excitement building in him.

“Actually,” she interrupted, “There won’t be another time. Not as a date. I like you Drummor. You’re about the only real friend I have in this city, but I’m not interested in that. Sorry.”

His excitement changed abruptly to disappoinment. His head slumped. “Oh, okay. Well, I...uh...”

Felitïa lowered her head too. She was actually starting to feel a little sad, upset even. No. That wasn’t her. Those were his feelings. Sometimes, strong feelings could fool her into thinking they were her own. “Sorry,” she repeated.

“No, that’s...that’s okay. I...I should get back to Agernon. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

Felitïa nodded slowly. “We’ll...we’ll talk again soon, though.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, definitely.” He turned and walked slowly from the shop, looking back briefly as he reached the door.

Elderaan finished with the girl and walked over to Felitïa, shaking his head. “He really likes you, you know. He’s a very nice young man. Intelligent, too. The two of you used to get along very well.”

Felitïa scowled. “That was before he started developing these feelings for me. You should have heard some of his thoughts. They were disgusting! Of all the times for my—”

Elderaan snapped his fingers, and nodded quickly towards the blonde-haired girl, who was watching them.

“Asa, you’re sixteen years old,” Elderaan said, continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened. “You’re a beautiful young woman who could have any boy she wanted. Don’t you think it’s time you began to take a little interest in the opposite sex? Hmm? It’s only normal, you know.”

“Well, as you’ve pointed out to me many times before,” Felitïa replied, “I’m not a normal person.”

“That’s certainly true,” Elderaan sighed.

“Besides, I have much more important things to do with my life than waste time with silly romances. I have my studies to think about.”

Elderaan nodded. “Oh, I know. I know.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” replied Elderaan. “I figured that out ages ago. Benefit of touching your mind occasionally, I suppose. Or is it a disadvantage? Who can say? Still, can’t blame an old man for trying.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s clear,” she said.

“Except it’s not just that, is it?” Elderaan continued. “You may not be interested in boys, but you do have affections. They’re just directed elsewhere.”

Felitïa blushed slightly and turned away. Just because she had had a stray thought here and there about Madame Ezmelda at the Hall of Knowledge. Oh, and there had been that really nice Ninifin girl a couple months back. But they were just distractions. Everyone got distracted from time to time. Getting rid of distractions and learning to concentrate was the area she had always needed to work most on, so she pushed thoughts like those aside whenever she had them.

Just how much was Elderaan reading in her during their lessons, anyway? Thoughts like that ought to be private. She tried to focus on his feelings on the matter, but couldn’t get anything clear from him. The flare up seemed to be diminishing, and over the years, Elderaan had become very good at hiding his feelings from her when he wanted to.

“I have some work to do upstairs. If you’ll excuse me, I shall return shortly.” He leaned over to her and added in a whisper, “Keep an eye on that girl. I know you won’t mind doing that. She’s very pretty.”

“Who is she?” Felitïa asked, also in a whisper.

“I don’t know. She would only say that she was just looking and didn’t need any help.”

“Could she be someone’s apprentice? A travelling wizard perhaps, who has arrived in Quorge?”

Elderaan shook his head. “She’s no one’s apprentice. That girl doesn’t know a thing about magic, but she pretends otherwise, so she’s not just a curious passerby. No, if you were to ask me, she’s up to no good. She’s watching us again. I’d better go.” He hurried up the stairs.

Felitïa walked over to the girl, who had moved to the rats. “Can I help you?” Up close, she could see that the girl wasn’t a Folith, like she had first thought. Although she had fair skin, it had the warmer tones more typical to Eloorin and her face was more rounded than most Foliths. It was possible she was of mixed blood. There was definitely something familiar about her, but Felitïa couldn’t place it. The girl wasn’t emanating any emotions. She was either very calm and totally at ease, or Felitïa’s abilities had abated again.

“No, it’s all right,” the girl replied. “I’m just looking.”

The rats were all cowering at the back of their cages. One was even baring its teeth at the girl and hissing. The girl took a step back.

Felitïa moved forwards between the cages and the girl. “Sorry. They get a bit agitated sometimes, but not normally like this. Rats don’t normally get violent unless directly threatened with no means of escape. I don’t know what’s up with them.”

“It’s okay,” the girl said. “Animals hate me.”

Felitïa concentrated a moment and released a calming spell over the rats. “Really?” She looked back at the girl. “It might just be the way you approach them. Animals can be finicky. Here.” She unlocked the latch on the top of the cage, reached in, and lifted one of the rats out. She turned and held the rat towards the girl. “This is Lon the Twelfth. Just stroke the top of his head and neck like this.” She demonstrated.

The girl shook her head.

“It’s all right, I’ve calmed him. He won’t bite you.”

“No thanks.”

Felitïa shrugged, stroked Lon’s head a bit more, then placed him back in the cage.

“The twelfth?” the girl said.

Felitïa shrugged. “I like to name them all. Most of them get different names, but every time we sell one of the Lons, I name the next new one Lon again. It’s kind of silly really.”

“Gotta entertain yourself somehow,” the girl said. “So, you work here with the old man?”

Felitïa nodded. “That’s Elderaan. I’m his apprentice.”

“Lucky you.”

Felitïa was pretty certain the girl was being sarcastic, but she decided to take it as a compliment. “I like to think so.” A hint of amusement from the girl flittered into Felitïa’s head.

“Did you just use magic to calm the rats?”

Felitïa nodded.

“Not bad. I didn’t notice.”

“Thanks. Mentalism is subtle that way. It doesn’t have the wide motions of conjuration or—”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I don’t need the lecture.”

Felitïa blushed. “Sorry. I’m Asa by the way.” She held out her hand to the girl.

“Oh.” The girl hesitated a moment before taking Felitïa’s hand. “Zandrue.” She gave only the briefest of handshakes before turning away and looking around the shop again.

Felitïa followed after her. “Zandrue? As in...?”

“Zandromeda the Volg Killer, yeah. So my mom liked fairy tales. Quite the place you and the old man have.” She passed by the sales counter, glancing at the ledger book.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Drummor had been talking about the Volg Killer when the girl arrived. Had she just grabbed a name she’d heard mentioned moments before? Maybe she was up to no good like Elderaan had suggested. Still, Felitïa couldn’t shake the thought there was something familiar about the girl. A hint of a memory or something that she couldn’t quite place. More like a memory of a memory.

“You okay?” the girl asked.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I just zoned out for a moment there. Elderaan’s always going on about my concentration skills. This might sound a little weird, but do I know you?”

The girl looked at Felitïa. She had large blue eyes and a wide smile. “No, don’t think so.”

“You just seem really familiar, that’s all.”

The girl shrugged. “Maybe we passed each other in the streets. I’ve been here a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” Felitïa said, knowing that wasn’t it. “You’re new in town? What brings you to Quorge?”

“Just passing through.”

“Will you be here for the solstice and New Year’s celebrations next week? We could get together. I could show you around. The festivities are always impressive and a lot of fun.”

“Sorry, I have to move on by then.”

“Oh, okay.” Felitïa could sense more amusement from the girl, though she couldn’t tell what amused her. Had the girl overheard her turn down Drummor?

“Well, I better get going,” the girl said, having made a complete circuit around the showroom. “It’s been nice meeting you, Asa. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime.” She didn’t give Felitïa a chance to respond, just opened the door and ducked out.

Felitïa sighed and went back over to her chair behind the sales counter. That had not gone the way she’d hoped. Though if the girl really was up to no good, maybe that was for the best. Besides, she didn’t need the distraction from her studies anyway. She pulled out a book to study from, but found she couldn’t focus at the moment. Her thoughts continued to linger on the girl, Zandrue, and on that hint of a memory that wouldn’t piece together.

* * * * *

Feelings passed through Felitïa’s mind: anticipation, excitement. A few others as well, but those two were the strongest. She glanced around, but there was no sign of the source. The streets were completely deserted apart from small clouds of snow stirred up by the bitter wind. The sounds of the New Year’s celebrations were just audible here, so far from the city centre. Beyond that, there was no sign of life.

Imagination, she told herself. But she knew it wasn’t.

She picked up her pace. Elderaan’s shop was just ahead. She pulled out the key, rounded the corner and froze. There was someone leaning against the door, rubbing his hands to keep warm in the chill air. He looked up. The details of his face were obscured in the shadows of the night, but she could tell he was looking directly at her. And his feelings…oh gods, his feelings. She’d never felt anything like them before. Some hints of anger, a desire for violence, but others as well that were completely alien to her. He moved towards her, and moonlight illuminated his face, his smile, and the razor-sharp teeth within.

Felitïa turned around to run, but collided with a huge man standing in her way. He grabbed her wrist and wrenched the shop key from her. She screamed as loudly as she could before he took hold of her, spun her around and clasped his hand over her mouth. She bit him as hard as she could, but he didn’t let go. “Bitch,” he growled.

“Get her inside,” another man’s voice said. “That scream might draw the watch. We need to be quick.”

Felitïa began moving her finger in the prescribed pattern. She could feel magical energy moving through her, but she couldn’t concentrate on it. Fear enveloped her and the spell fizzled away.

The man holding her shoved her forward until they were standing in front of the shop door. He unlocked the door, opened it, and pushed her inside. Felitïa spun around and tried to gather her thoughts, but the magic wouldn’t come.

The man gave her another push and chuckled. With his six-foot height, she thought he must be a Folith, but as a second man came in behind him holding a lantern, she saw that he had the darker skin and wider build of an Eloorin. His head was shaved entirely bald and his nose was crooked. The man with the lantern was on the short side—very small when compared with the bald man—but beyond that, she could make out little about his features. He was wrapped in a silk cloak, and the way he held his lantern meant that no light was penetrating the darkness of his hood.

The man with the teeth came into the shop followed by two more men, the last remaining in the open doorway, keeping watch on the outside. What did they want with her? Anticipation was the overwhelming sense Felitïa got from all of them—that and the feelings from the sharpened-teeth man, but she refused to think about those.

“Where’s Quilla?” It was the man in the cloak who spoke. He placed the lantern down on the display table nearest the door.

“Who?” Felitïa replied, her voice shaking. “Who are you?”

The man with the sharpened teeth grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. She screamed—not so much from the pain as from his feelings as they flooded into her. His gruesome laugh sounded of insanity. Was that what she was feeling from him? Felitïa fought back the tears. The man let her go, laughing some more.

“When I ask a question,” the man in the cloak said, pulling back his hood, “I expect an answer.” He was young, maybe in his early twenties, and the only one of the men who seemed to have heard of bathing. “I’ll ask again. Where is Quilla?” His dark blonde hair was straight, his bangs hanging straight down, covering his forehead to just above his eyebrows. He stood in front of her now, gazing intently at her, cold blue eyes studying her. Despite being shorter than her, his look managed to make her feel small. Anticipation and excitement flooded from him. And hatred.

Felitïa shook her head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She tried to wipe the tears from her face, but the man with the teeth grabbed her arm as she moved it. The short man’s slap sent her reeling. Her arm twisted in the pointed-toothed man’s grip.

“I will only ask once more. The time of birth grows near. I must find her! I will have the child! Now where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Felitïa sobbed. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe she really doesn’t know,” the bald man said.

The short man rounded angrily on him. “She knows. She has to know.”

“Maybe she’s the wrong one,” one of the other men said. He was an Eloorin with greasy black hair. “Maybe you got it wrong, Dyle. Maybe you’ve led us all on a wild goose chase. The Dusk Supreme will not be pleased. Looks to me like Aylor will get to be his successor now.”

“Shut up, Dogbar, you fool,” the bald man snapped. “You speak too much.”

The short man—Dyle—grabbed her by the back of her neck, those cold blue eyes raging. “This is her! I know it is.” The calm and self-possession with which he had addressed her earlier was gone. She thought that she could get a slight sense of fear from him now, but she wasn’t sure. There were too many emotions coming through. She tried desperately to remember her concentration exercises.

“Tell me where she is and I’ll let you die quickly,” Dyle said. “If not, I’ll give you to Vellon here.”

The man with the teeth laughed again. This time she saw what made his pointed-tooth grin all the more horrifying. No tongue. Gods! Who were these people?

There was a sound from the man in the doorway—like a horrid mix of cough and gurgle—followed by a spray of blood across Felitïa’s face, and then a thud near her. The man fell to the ground twitching. An arrow had ripped right through his neck and lodged into a shelf. Felitïa held back a scream.

“What the hell?” Dyle yelled, letting go of Felitïa and wiping away the blood that had sprayed over his own face.

“It must be the watch!” Dogbar yelled.

The tall bald man moved beside the door. “It’s that fucking girl from last week!” He slammed the door shut. There was a thud as another arrow hit it.

Felitïa knew that this momentary distraction was the only chance she was likely to get. She focused on her head, trying to push her fear and all the other jumbled emotions to the side. It was a huge effort, but they obeyed her. She flexed her fingers slightly, following the prescribed pattern, adjusting it to fit her condition and circumstances. She took a few cautious steps to the side. None of them noticed.

Dyle slammed his fist on a shelf in anger. “Sam, kill her! Vellon, you get the Will-Breaker. Then we make a run for it before the watch gets here.”

While the bald man edged the door open, keeping it between him and whoever was firing the arrows, the man with the sharpened teeth lunged at Felitïa and passed right through the false image she had created in their minds. As he stumbled and tried to regain his balance, she kicked him in the stomach with as much strength as she could muster. He doubled over.

“Clever,” Dyle said, and rounded on her—directly towards where she was really standing, not the image of her.

When she’d kicked the man with the sharpened teeth, she had lost concentration on the spell. Stupid! So stupid!

Dyle pulled a knife and lunged at her. Felitïa instinctively raised her arms to protect herself and gasped as the blade cut along the back of her left hand. Somehow, she managed to grab his wrist with her other hand and tried to force the knife from him. He roared and fought back.

“The watch is coming!” Dogbar cried. “Let’s get out of here!”

Dyle might not have been a large man, but he was certainly stronger than Felitïa. He pushed her arms back, brought the knife closer to her. She stumbled. Her grip on his wrist slipped a little. Yet she held on and managed to regain her footing. Finally, she brought her knee up to kick him in the groin. He doubled over. She wrenched the knife from his hand and pulled it away. He yelled in pain and looked up. A long gash dripped red down the right side of his face.

Felitïa backed away. Pointing the knife at Dyle, she looked around the rest of the shop. His associates had taken off, presumably from fear of the watch. He seemed to be just realising this, too. He glared at her for a moment longer, then turned and ran through the open door of the shop—straight into a City Watchman, who grabbed his arm and shoved him aside, straight into the arms of another guard.

Felitïa dropped the knife and fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Tears were forming in her eyes.

The first watchman stepped into the shop, stamping his feet to free his boots of snow. “What’s going on here?” He looked in distaste at the body on the floor.

Felitïa looked up at him. “They... they attacked me. I... I don’t know why.”

The watchman turned his head away from the body and gazed about. He stroked his greying beard. “You’re that Folith girl who works for that Eloorin fraud, right?”

“He’s a wizard,” she told him, pulling herself back to her feet again. “He’s not a fraud.”

“Of course not,” the guard said. “My apologies.” He didn’t sound as if he meant it. “You say these people attacked you. Do you know why?”

Felitïa shook her head. “No. Not really. Though they seemed to think I knew where they could find someone else they were looking for. A woman. Named Quilla, I think.”

Another watchman entered the shop. “We’ve rounded up five of them, Captain.”

“And the dead man here makes six.” The captain turned to Felitïa. “Were there any more?”

She shook her head. “I only saw five, I think.” Everything did seem hazy though. Maybe there had been another outside.

“Thank you, Rios,” the captain said, nodding to the other watchman. “We’ll join you shortly.”

The second watchman nodded and left the shop again. The captain turned back to Felitïa. “So, a young girl like you holding your own against six assailants. Quite impressive. Did you kill this one?”

Felitïa shook her head. The one firing arrows! The bald man had mentioned a girl. What had happened to her? “Someone was trying to help me, I think,” she said. “Someone was firing arrows.”

The watchman walked over to the shelf where the arrow had lodged itself. “So I see.” He pulled the arrow free. “Come with me.”

He led her outside, where several watchmen had five people lined up on the street, their hands tied behind their backs. Four of them were the men who had attacked her. Dyle’s face still dripped blood. The tall bald man had acquired a shoulder wound at some point. At the far end of the line, however, a teenage girl stood staring at the guards with venom in her eyes. It was Zandrue.

“Were these your assailants?” the captain asked her.

“The men were,” Felitïa answered. “Not her, though. But when someone started shooting arrows at them, one of the men mentioned seeing a girl. I think she was trying to help me.”

“I was!” Zandrue spoke up.

“Do you know her or any of the others?” the captain asked.

Felitïa shook her head. “Not the men. Though I have seen her in the shop before. She came in last week. We talked a bit.”

“She was armed with this, sir,” Rios said, holding up a longbow. “And a quiver of arrows.”

The captain walked up to the girl, and Felitïa hurried after him. “It’s illegal to fire a bow and arrow on the streets of Quorge,” he said to the girl, “as I believe I’ve warned you of before.”

“Yeah, well, I bet it’s also illegal to attack helpless girls in the middle of the night. I was trying to help.” There was intense anger emanating from Zandrue, but also a hint of hope.

“Tell me what happened,” the captain said.

Zandrue sighed. “I was nearby. I heard a scream. I came to investigate and saw these men attacking that girl, so I tried to help out. Yes, I fired arrows at them. What else was I supposed to do? There’s no way I could take on someone like him in hand-to-hand.” She nodded towards the tall, bald man.

“She’s just trying to get out of her punishment,” the bald man spat. “She was our back-up on the street. Her job was to shoot down the girl if she got away.”

“That’s a fucking lie!” Zandrue snapped back.

The watch captain held up his hand for silence. “Did you kill the man in the shop?”

Zandrue shrugged. “I wasn’t close enough to see for sure, but if he was killed by an arrow then it was probably me.”

The captain turned to the bald man. “If she was your back-up, why’d she kill one of your own?”

The bald man shrugged, but Dyle spoke up. “Apparently she has lousy eyesight. She must have thought he was the girl. I won’t be hiring her again, that’s for sure.”

“Why you fucking...” Zandrue began and started to move towards Dyle. One of the Watch grabbed her shoulder to hold her back. She turned to look at the captain. “Look Almais, you have to believe me. I wasn’t working for these men. I was trying to help her!”

“What were you doing in the area?” the captain asked. “Most people are at the festival tonight.”

“I was bored. I left early.”

“Really? Somehow I doubt that. This young lady says you’ve been in her shop before. Is this true?”

Zandrue nodded.

“Did you buy anything?”

“No.”

“Did you see anything you wanted to take?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The captain sighed. “I think you know what I’m implying.”

“Okay, look,” the girl said. “Almais, you know me. Yes, I’ve stolen a few things before, but I don’t work for thugs like these. I don’t attack innocent people.”

Almais sighed. “You’re right. You don’t. But I have to arrest you anyway.”

Both the bald man and the man with sharpened teeth laughed.

“What the hell for?” Fear was starting to overshadow Zandrue’s anger. That made sense, yet there was something odd about it too. Felitïa couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she got the sense that Zandrue wasn’t so much afraid of the Watch or the four men, but something else.

“On what charge, Captain?” Felitïa interjected. “She was trying to help me, after all. Killing that man was an act of defence.”

“On suspicion of robbery,” Almais replied. “She was either about to rob your shop or had already done it when those men attacked you. That’s why she was nearby.”

“You can’t arrest me for something I might have been considering doing,” Zandrue said.

“And when we search your belongings, what will we find?” Almais asked her. “Items from the store, perhaps? Items you claim you never bought? Shall I have your belongings brought forward?”

All four of Felitïa’s attackers were chuckling now. She could sense contempt and hatred for Zandrue coming from all of them, along with amusement over her predicament. Felitïa had no idea what had previously happened between them and the girl, but after what they had just done to her, she wasn’t about to give them any satisfaction.

“Captain,” Felitïa said, “if there’s anything in her belongings from the store, I hereby give them to her. Therefore she hasn’t stolen them.”

Zandrue smiled, and her fear diminished a little.

“I had a feeling you might say that,” Almais replied, “but you’re not actually the owner of the shop, are you? What will he say about this?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Captain Almais shrugged. “I understand your desire to help the girl out. She may have saved your life. But I warn you: she may not be a killer, but she’s not to be trusted.”

“I’ll make that decision for myself, Captain,” Felitïa said.

He nodded. “Very well.” He motioned for Zandrue to turn around. He then began to undo her bonds. “You’re too young to take responsibility for her,” he told Felitïa. “I’m considering her the wizard’s responsibility as long as she remains in the city. If he doesn’t want that, he’ll have to turn her over to us.” He finished undoing the bonds and turned to his men. “Let’s get these others out of here. Move!”

As the watchmen began to march her attackers away, Dyle looked in Felitïa’s direction. “This isn’t over, Will-Breaker!” One of the watchmen elbowed him in the back along with an order to shut up.

Felitïa watched as they moved down the street. She didn’t turn away for several minutes until the blowing snow completely hid them from sight. In the distance, the sound of New Year’s revellers—oblivious to everything that had happened here—just barely reached Felitïa’s ears.

“Why’d he call you Will-Breaker?” Zandrue asked.

“No idea,” Felitïa replied. It was a good question. Why had he? And who had he been looking for? “Your name’s not Quilla by any chance, is it?”

“No, it’s Zandrue. I told you that. Who’s Quilla?”

“I don’t know. The person they were looking for, apparently.”

“Well, it’s not me.”

“It was a long shot,” Felitïa said, thinking back to what had just happened. The image of sharpened teeth stood prominently in her mind. And Dyle’s final words. This isn’t over.

Emotions started to well up in her, dizzyingly strong. Fear. Panic. Sadness. She lowered her head to stare at the ground, hoping for stability amid the strange sense of motion she was experiencing. She could feel the blood on her face, and the pain on the back of her hand was getting worse.

“Well, I better get going,” Zandrue went on. “I’ll leave town. I don’t want to put any pressure on the old guy. Thanks for what you did. I appreciate it. I’ll put back the...” She trailed off.

Gods, Zandrue was an emotional one! Felitïa wanted to say something to calm Zandrue down, but realised they weren’t Zandrue’s emotions at all. They were her own. Gods, those sharpened teeth! She could have died. Who were they?

She felt Zandrue’s arms catch her. She hadn’t even noticed herself start to fall. “You’ve never been in a fight for your life before, have you?”

Felitïa started to cry. She tried to hold back the tears, but they just kept coming.

“Don’t worry,” Zandrue said. “You’ll be okay. I’ll get you inside, and watch over you until the old man gets back.”

* * * * *

Felitïa sat in her bed while Elderaan handed her a cup of tea. Zandrue was leaning in the open doorway of the bedroom, watching them. “This young lady,” Elderaan said, “has told me what happened. Her version of it, at least. Now I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Don’t trust me?” Zandrue asked.

“You stole expensive herbs from my shop! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get those in the first place? Hmm? They only grow in Ninifin, and the Ninifins don’t let much past their border!”

“Yeah, I know,” Zandrue said. “That’s why I had to get them here.”

“I knew there was something up with you when you were in here last week!”

“But I gave them back, right? I could’ve taken off long before you got back, but I didn’t! I stuck around to help Asa out! The least you could do is be grateful.”

The anger in the room was making Felitïa’s head spin. She almost dropped the cup. As it was, several drops of hot tea splashed onto her lap. “Please! Stop fighting!”

Elderaan turned back to Felitïa. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Please, tell me about what happened.”

Felitïa told him everything that had happened—as best as she could remember, at any rate. Some of the stuff towards the end was a bit hazy. “If I’d just kept my concentration, I could have handled it so much better. I could have kept them confused until the watch got here.”

Elderaan patted her leg comfortingly. “I keep telling you that your concentration needs work. Now perhaps you’ll pay it more mind, hmm?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. Don’t worry about it, my dear. It’s not easy to maintain concentration in this sort of crisis, and it was the first time you’ve ever experienced anything like it. Let us pray you never do again.”

Felitïa took a sip of tea. “Their leader—I think he was their leader—he called me Will-Breaker. Any idea what that means?”

Elderaan thought for a moment. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Though it might fit...” He trailed off and looked to Zandrue. “Any ideas?”

Zandrue just shrugged.

“They also mentioned something else,” Felitïa said. “A person, I think. Not the one they were looking for. Someone else. A...” She wracked her mind, trying to remember. “Dusk Supreme, that was it.”

Elderaan frowned and stood up. “Now that is familiar. This isn’t good at all.”

“What’s wrong?” Felitïa asked. “Do you know who they were?”

“Not exactly,” Elderaan replied.

“They’re Darkers,” Zandrue said.

“Darkers?”

“Darkness Worshippers,” Elderaan said. “Followers of Night. The Dusk Supreme was their leader. Queen Felitïa spent years having that organisation hunted down.”

“Oh right,” Felitïa said. She’d heard a few of the stories before, but hadn’t paid much attention to them. “Didn’t people call the Dusk Supreme the Second Dragon or something?”

Elderaan nodded. “He was a terrible man with incredible magical powers—supposedly granted him by Night. More likely though, he was just an extremely accomplished wizard. Much like the Dragon that way, though without armies at his command. Certainly did nothing to help the reputation of wizards, that’s for sure. His trial and execution were the talk of the continent—probably the world—for ages afterwards. It was generally felt that Queen Felitïa’s campaign had crippled the Darkers, possibly wiped them out entirely. However, many say they are still active, just not as organised as they once were.

“It was a long time ago, but I remember the army coming to Quorge, seeking the help of wizards here. I was young and inexperienced at the time, and not up to the job at all. My teacher went, though. He never returned.”

“I’m sorry,” Felitïa said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Elderaan said. The feelings she was detecting from him vanished, as he gained control of himself. “It’s not your fault. In the end, they had to get Isyar help, as I recall. The Dusk Supreme is long dead now, though.”

“Yeah, that one.” Zandrue came up beside him. “Dusk Supreme’s a title, old man. There have been others since him, and the position’s opened up again. The short, blonde one is in the running, I think.”

“They recognised you,” Felitïa said. “Do you know them?”

Elderaan glared at Zandrue, who sighed. “Not well. I met them once. A week ago. I was told they might be able to help me find what I was looking for. They didn’t have a clue. So I went my own way, found your shop, saw what I needed. The rest is history. I didn’t know they were Darkers.”

“And you didn’t bother to mention this before?” Elderaan said.

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Oh it didn’t, did it? Seems more likely to me that—”

“Nothing else happened between you?” Felitïa interrupted.

Zandrue shrugged. “Not really. They wanted to hire me for a couple jobs. I said no. That was it. I didn’t expect to ever see them again. Certainly not here tonight.”

“And the herbs you stole?” Elderaan asked. “What were they for, hmm?”

“Damned if I know,” Zandrue said. “I was sent to get some.”

“By whom?”

“You don’t want to know. Look, I returned them. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“No, it is not okay, young lady,” Elderaan said. “I expect—”

“Look, it’s over,” Felitïa interrupted again. “Those men have been arrested, Zandrue’s returned the herbs. The rest doesn’t matter anymore.”

Elderaan huffed.

Felitïa drank the rest of her tea and held the cup out to Elderaan. “What about you?” she asked Zandrue. “Will you try to get the herbs somewhere else?”

“Too late for that,” Zandrue said. “I’m practically out of time as it is.” That fear was rising in Zandrue again. “No, I’ll just...well...I don’t know what I’ll do yet, exactly.”

“What happens if you don’t deliver the herbs?” Felitïa asked, shoving the cup more forcefully in Elderaan’s direction. He took it with a grumble.

Zandrue shivered. “Nothing good. I’ll just have to stay out of their way.”

“Whose way?” Felitïa asked, climbing out of bed.

“You really don’t want to know, Asa, and there’s nothing you can do to make me tell you. I’m grateful to you for trying to help me, but that only goes so far.”

Felitïa nodded. “All right. That’s fine.”

Elderaan harrumphed again.

“That’s fine,” Felitïa repeated.

“I should probably get going.” Zandrue turned for the door, but glanced back. “Thanks again.”

Felitïa looked at Elderaan. “We should let her stay here.”

“Certainly not!” Elderaan snapped.

“Who says I want to stay here?” Zandrue said, pausing in the doorway. She turned back around and motioned to Elderaan. “With him?”

Felitïa ignored Zandrue for the moment and said to Elderaan, “The Watch captain said she was your responsibility as long as she was in the city.”

“Then let her leave the city,” Elderaan responded.

“She could be in danger!”

“I certainly couldn’t care less. If she stays here, I’ll hand her back over to the watch.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gone,” Zandrue said, and strode out of the room.

“Zandrue, wait!” Felitïa ran after her, catching up to her by the counter in the front room. She grabbed for her arm, but Zandrue pulled away from her. “We can help you!” Felitïa pleaded.

“No, you really can’t.” Zandrue approached the main door and reached for the handle. She paused. “If I stay here, I put you in danger. You and the old fart.”

“You’re terrified of something, Zandrue. I can feel it.” Zandrue’s fear was making Felitïa’s head spin again. She did her best to push it aside and focus on her own thoughts and feelings.

Zandrue shook her head. “You’re misinterpreting things. I’m used to being on my own. I’ll be fine.” She reached for the door handle again.

“No, I don’t think you will. Please, let me help you. You saved my life. Let me repay that.”

“You already did. You stopped me being arrested. We’re even.”

“Not in my opinion,” Felitïa said. “Not when you’re still so afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Zandrue reached for the door again.

“Yes, you are. Zandrue, I’m telepathic. I can sense your fear.”

Zandrue had the door partway open. Felitïa shivered in the cold, barely able to believe she had just admitted that. Elderaan was going to kill her.

Zandrue stopped partway through the door. A hint of curiosity emanated from her, pushing through the fear. “You’re out of your mind.”

Felitïa shook her head. “I think that’s why the Darkers came for me—why they called me Will-Breaker. They knew somehow.” It didn’t answer everything—like who was Quilla?—but it made sense.

Zandrue closed the door and turned to face her. “Prove it. What am I thinking right now?”

“You’re curious right now.”

“No shit. You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“It’s not that precise,” Felitïa said. “I generally just get emotions, but the ability waxes and wanes.”

Zandrue rolled her eyes. “Figures. Look, Asa, why are you doing this? You don’t even know me. Sure, I probably saved your life, but why would you want to put your life at risk to help me?”

“You’re right, I don’t know you,” Felitïa replied. Yet she still couldn’t shake that feeling of familiarity. “But I do know you enough to know I don’t want you to die, and that’s what you’re afraid will happen, isn’t it? You’re afraid they’ll kill you.”

Elderaan came up behind her.

“And if you get involved, they’ll kill you, too,” Zandrue said.

“Asa’s already involved,” Elderaan said, “and there are already people trying to kill her.”

“Completely different situation,” Zandrue said.

“Maybe so, but you’re involved in both,” Elderaan said. “I don’t particularly like the idea, but well... Asa’s right. You should stay here. We can help each other. There’s something to be said for strength in numbers, you know.”

“I won’t let you leave,” Felitïa said. “Not when we could help you.”

“She means it,” Elderaan said. “She can be ridiculously stubborn.”

“I learned from the best,” Felitïa said, smiling at him.

“Besides,” Elderaan went on, “she’s just told you one of her greatest secrets. I don’t dare let you out of my sight now. No telling who you might tell it to.”

“Apparently, the secret’s already out,” Zandrue said.

Elderaan nodded. “Yes, that is worrying.”

Zandrue sighed and a wave of relaxation emanated from her. The fear was still there, but it was much more in the background, replaced by a calmness interspersed with some disbelief. “I’m going to regret this.”

“You’ll stay?”

“For now, I suppose. But I don’t like staying in one spot for too long. Don’t be surprised if you wake up one morning and I’m gone.” She strode past Felitïa and Elderaan and over to the door to the back. “I suppose I should get to know this place better. Where do I sleep?” She disappeared into the back.

Felitïa started to follow her, but Elderaan put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t like this, but I’m letting you have your way because the Darkers concern me more than she does.”

Felitïa nodded. “I understand.”

“But know this. The Watch may have made her my responsibility, but I’m making her yours. Don’t make me regret this. And more importantly, don’t let her lead you astray. I don’t want to be bailing you out of the city jail.”

“You won’t,” Felitïa said. “And thank you.” She hugged him. He merely harrumphed.

Zandrue poked her head through the door again. “Asa and I don’t have to share a room, do we?”

“I am a man of simple means,” Elderaan replied. “I can hardly be expected to have spare rooms waiting for any old vagabond to take.”

“Shit,” Zandrue said. “I guess I’ll make do.”

“You watch your language!” Elderaan snapped.

“Fuck that.” Zandrue laughed and disappeared behind the door again.

* * * * *

Zandrue tossed her bag at the foot of the bed. “It’s not very big.”

“Elderaan said any new supplies for you are my responsibility,” Felitïa said. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough money to get you a bed. We’ll have to share for now.”

Zandrue shrugged. “We’ll make do. Don’t worry. I don’t need a lot of space, and I only occasionally kick in my sleep.”

Felitïa laughed and sat down on the bed. “That was a joke, right?”

Zandrue didn’t answer, just smirked, and went over to the wardrobe. “I guess we’ll share this too. Good thing I don’t have much.”

“I like to travel light,” Zandrue had said earlier. They had gone to pick up her belongings at the inn she had been staying at, and Felitïa had been surprised by how little she had.

“Do you do a lot of travelling?” Felitïa had asked at the time.

“You could say that.”

“By yourself?”

“Usually.”

“For how long?”

“Years and years.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen. Yeah, I started young.”

Felitïa had tried to question Zandrue more about her past, but Zandrue had remained evasive.

Zandrue was now at the wardrobe and opened it. “I guess we’ll each take one side.”

“Sure,” Felitïa replied. “I was thinking, once you’re unpacked, I could show you down by the lake. I know a really good place for walking. I go there from time to time to clear my head and practice my concentration. It’s not as good in the winter, of course, but...well...I thought it might be a good place to go together. Not many other people go there, so it’s private and...”

Zandrue looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we’ll go there sometime.”

Felitïa smiled.

“Uh, Asa...” Zandrue indicated the wardrobe. “Did you know you have a sword in here?”

Felitïa put a hand to her mouth. She had forgotten that was there. She had left it leaning in the corner so long ago, and barely paid it any mind these days.

Zandrue reached in and pulled the sword out, turning it in her hand, testing the balance. “Shit! This isn’t just any sword.”

Felitïa gulped and tried to figure out what to say.

“Asa, you’ve got some major explaining to do.” Zandrue was examining the hilt. “This is a royal sword, the kind Princess Gabriella or Annai might use. Or...” She lowered the sword and looked over, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at Felitïa.

“Well...” Felitïa said. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

The sword had been a mistake.

All she had wanted for as long as she could remember was to be a wizard, but her mother arranged for her to be trained for the priesthood instead. She tried that for two years before she finally decided she’d had enough and she should just run away. Ardon caught her on her first attempt, but she convinced him not to tell her family. Over the next couple months, she gradually convinced him to help her. He arranged for a ship to take her from Arnor City and a merchant caravan to pick her up in Porthaven and help her reach Quorge—the City of Wizards, Ardon called it, the perfect place for her to be.

The prospect of travelling across the continent excited her, but it also terrified her. She didn’t know what to expect. She had never experienced anything beyond Arnor City, and little of the city beyond the Palace and the Cathedral of the Gods. All she knew were the few stories Ardon or her father told her and what she could find in books—but these things were mostly tales of adventure. She had come to think of travel as danger-fraught, with bandits, goblins, Volgs, and other monstrosities waiting around every bend of the road and over every hill.

So she brought the sword with her. She wasn’t sure now just what she had been thinking. The sword had been a gift for her tenth birthday just a few months earlier. It was tradition to give all royal children their first sword at this time as a sign that they would soon begin training. Of course, they weren’t expected to be able to use the swords yet. These were the swords they would one day wear once they were fully grown and fully trained.

Felitïa knew she would be completely unable to defend herself with it, so just why she had dragged it along, she couldn’t now say other than it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Once it was clear that the reality of travel was less exciting than the stories would have one believe, she had entertained idea of selling the sword, but when she told Emund, the senior merchant, her plans, he absolutely forbade it. It would be too easily recognised, he said. She had put up a bit of a fuss at the time that she was now quite embarrassed by, but Emund had been absolutely right. So she kept it hidden the entire time she travelled with the caravan, as Emund was the only one who knew her true identity.

After arriving in Quorge, she had been on her own for several weeks, and several times during that period, she once again considered selling the sword. But by then, she had learnt to trust Emund in these matters, and so she still had it.

And now Zandrue had found it. It had been bound to happen eventually. It was probably for the best it happened now.

“Go on,” Zandrue prompted.

“I think you’ve already guessed, haven’t you?” Felitïa said.

Zandrue didn’t reply right away, but the feelings of astonishment radiating from her pretty much confirmed the answer. She came over to the bed and sat down beside Felitïa, placing the sword down on her other side. She leaned in close to Felitïa, her face almost touching Felitïa’s, her deep blue eyes staring into Felitïa’s. For a moment, Felitïa thought Zandrue was going to kiss her, and her heart rate quickened. But Zandrue only sniffed a couple times, then sat back again. “You’re her, aren’t you? The missing princess. Either that or you killed her and took her sword. I’m leaning towards the former.”

Felitïa sighed. She hoped Zandrue thought it was just a sigh of resignation—at having to admit her identity—and not because she was disappointed at not being kissed. She looked at Zandrue and forced a smile. “Hi.”

Zandrue breathed out slowly. “I guess that explains why you’re convinced I’ll be safe here. If the old man has successfully hidden you here, he must be better than I thought. So what do I call you?”

“Asa in public, but you can call me Felitïa in private or around Elderaan.”

“Anyone else know?”

“Agernon. He’s another wizard, one of Elderaan’s friends. And Drummor. He’s one of my friends, and Agernon’s apprentice.”

“The cute boy you were talking to that first day I came into the shop?”

Felitïa’s heart dropped. She looked away from Zandrue. “That would be him.”

“Something between the two of you?”

Felitïa glared back at her. “No! He’s just a friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I figured that. I was just teasing. He’s definitely into you, though.”

Felitïa groaned. “I know.”

Zandrue chuckled. “I might have seen you turn him down last week. Told him you couldn’t go with him to the festival because you had something or other to do with the old man, and then promptly asked me to go with you. Good thing he’d left by then. Now you want me to go on walks in private locations by the lake. You’re not very subtle.”

Felitïa blushed and buried her head in her hands. She groaned.

“Look, Asa...Felitïa...whatever. I’m flattered, but just friends, okay?”

Felitïa nodded. “Right, sorry. I’ve got my studies to think about anyway. I shouldn’t let myself be distracted by things like that.”

Zandrue shrugged. “That’s maybe going a bit far.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Zandrue leapt to her feet.. “So! This sword.” She picked it up, and began to swing it experimentally, slowly at first, then taking faster swings and stabs at the air. Her movements reminded Felitïa of the movements she remembered seeing her sister Gabriella and her brothers make during their practices.

“You know how to use it?” Felitïa asked.

Zandrue stopped and turned back to face Felitïa. “The swords I trained with were much heavier, so it feels a little weird to use. But with a little practice, I suspect it would be better suited to me than those were. Honestly, if I’d had a sword like this, I would have kept up practice. I’m a little jealous, actually.”

“It’s yours,” Felitïa said.

“Oh no, I couldn’t—”

“No, really. You can have it. I can’t use it, so with me, it’ll just sit in that wardrobe and rust.”

“Thanks! I take it you don’t have a scabbard?”

Felitïa shook her head.

Zandrue shrugged. “Oh well, I can’t wear it around town, anyway. Almais would run me in without hesitation and then you’d be found out. So even with me, it’ll spend most of its time in that wardrobe.”

“I do have some cloth you can wrap it in.”

“Great, let’s wrap it up and you can show me that place by the lake. I’d like to practice a little.”

Felitïa jumped to her feet and went over to the wardrobe.

Zandrue ran a finger along the edge of the sword. “It’s a little dull. I suppose you don’t have a whet stone either, do you?”

Felitïa wasn’t sure what that even was, though she could guess from the context. “Sorry.”

“Just one more thing to add to the shopping list then,” Zandrue said. “Does it have a name?”

Felitïa shook her head. “Should it? I always thought it was really silly that Garet named his sword. I think my other siblings might have named theirs too, but they didn’t advertise it the way he did.”

“Just something to think about,” Zandrue said.

Felitïa took out the cloth she had originally wrapped the sword in all those years ago. She still had the ties as well. Zandrue placed the sword down on the table and Felitïa began to wrap it. “Zandrue, since you know two really big secrets about me now, I don’t suppose...maybe...you could...”

“No,” Zandrue said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Felitïa. In fact, despite how short a time I’ve known you, I probably trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone. Truth is, I don’t usually trust anyone at all. But I can’t tell you. Please just trust me on that.”

Fear flowed from Zandrue again, so Felitïa decided not to press it. “Sure. Any ideas for a name?”

Zandrue shrugged. “Beats me, I’ve never named a sword before. What did Garet name his?”

Felitïa finished wrapping the sword and began to tie it. “Smasher.”

Zandrue laughed. “Smasher? For a sword? What was he doing with it?”

“Garet was never very bright.” Felitïa laughed.

“Yeah, let’s not name it that. Come on, let’s get going.” Zandrue’s fear was subsiding again, but Felitïa remained worried.

Just what terrified her so?

* * * * *

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like inside Lord Belone’s palace?” Zandrue asked.

“No,” Felitïa replied. “Why would I?” She dropped a couple coins into Darva’s bowl.

The old beggar grinned toothlessly at her. “Thank you, girl. A few more of these shiny things and I might be able to buy myself a nice pair of crutches, I might.” Felitïa glanced at where his missing leg should have been and melted. She threw a few more coins in the bowl.

“Let’s go look at it,” Zandrue said.

Darva reached feebly for his bowl and held it towards Zandrue, but she ignored him. She wasn’t even looking in his direction. Drummor dropped a few coins in instead.

“Look at what?” Felitïa asked.

“The palace,” Zandrue replied. “Come on.” Nearby, old Aleza Laswit walked by. Her three dogs growled and barked at Zandrue, pulling on their chains. With a scowl, Zandrue headed down the street.

Darva lowered his bowl. “Never gives me squat, she don’t.”

Felitïa smiled at him. “I’ll be back to see you again soon, okay?”

“You’s a good girl, Asa,” he said, pulling himself into a better position along the wall. He smiled at her. “Better go catch your friends.”

She looked up. Zandrue and Drummor were well ahead of her. She ran to catch up, nearly slipping on a small patch of melting ice. Spring was in the air, but there were still numerous signs of the harsh winter on the ground.

“I wonder how close we can get,” Zandrue said as Felitïa reached them.

“Felitïa’s a Folith,” Drummor said. “They wouldn’t think anything of her walking by the gates.”

“Unless they recognise me as the Folith who’s apprenticed to an Eloorin,” Felitïa said.

“You never go into that part of the city,” Zandrue said, “and they never come out of it. The chances of them recognising you are basically non-existent.”

“But not zero,” Felitïa said.

“Oh come on, let’s do it.”

“But what about us?” Drummor said to Zandrue. “We’re Eloorin.”

“I’m half-Folith,” Zandrue said. “I can probably pass. You can pretend to be our servant.” Zandrue strode forwards in a mock pompous manner. “All nobles have to have servants. We should get you some bags to carry or something.”

“Yeah, thanks for perpetuating that idea,” Drummor grumbled.

Zandrue tapped his chin. “Oh come now, you get to stick your nose up at a bunch of nobles. How bad can that be?”

“Zandrue, this is silly,” Felitïa said.

“So?”

“I may be a Folith, but I’m not dressed like a noble. Neither are you. We won’t fool them.”

“Of course we won’t,” Zandrue agreed. “But it doesn’t matter. They’ll just tell us to get lost, and we’re no worse off.”

“But if you know you’re going to fail, why bother?”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m bored. I want to see Lord Belone’s palace. I’ve been here for months and haven’t seen it. You got something better for us to do?”

“Well, Elderaan—”

“Isn’t expecting us back for a few hours yet. Loads of time. Come on.” Zandrue grabbed Drummor’s hand and pulled him forward into a run.

Felitïa sighed and ran after them.

Lord Belone’s palace was located in the centre of the nobles’ quarter. A plain stone wall surrounded the grounds, which covered enough area to fit most of the rest of Quorge inside. The wall was tall enough to block the view of the palace itself. Zandrue led them along the street that followed the wall’s edge, occasionally waving at the guards above.

“Zandrue!” Felitïa said, and grabbed her arm as she tried to wave to another group of guards. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Why?” Zandrue replied. “For waving to guards? There’s nothing illegal about that. Calm down, Felitïa. We’re not doing anything wrong. We’ll just go up to the gate, ask if we can go in, they’ll say no, and we leave. Simple as that. Nothing wrong with asking, is there?” She waved to another guard.

“She has a point,” Drummor said.

“I suppose,” Felitïa said.

Zandrue put an arm around Felitïa’s shoulders. “It’ll be fun, and you really need more fun in your life. I mean, you just spent your seventeenth birthday practising concentration skills, that’s how much you need more fun in your life. Come on, admit it. You find this strangely exciting.”

“Well…” She did find it oddly exciting. Her heart was beating in anticipation. It was probably Zandrue’s and Drummor’s excitement influencing her own feelings. Unfortunately, she wasn’t finding that a convincing argument.

The guards above never returned Zandrue’s waves, and the well-dressed Foliths they passed on the street just glared at them with cold eyes.

“Almost there,” Zandrue announced. “Let me do the talking.”

Two guards bearing the waterfowl tabard of House Belone blocked their entry to the palace gates. “May we help you ladies?” one asked.

“Yes, my good man,” Zandrue said in an exaggerated, pretentious voice. “We’d very much like an audience with Lord Belone, please.”

The guard’s lips curled in amusement. “Oh really? And you are?”

“My friend here—” Zandrue pointed to Felitïa—“is an aristocratic traveller interested in meeting the lord of this good land.”

“Ha ha,” the guard said. “Off you go, ladies. Nice try.”

Zandrue pouted. “Aw, really?”

“On your way,” the guard said.

Zandrue shrugged. “Oh well. Catch you later!”

Felitïa cringed as Zandrue walked away, holding back giggles. “Sorry,” Felitïa said to the guards.

“Just move on,” one replied.

When they were out of sight of the gates, Zandrue put one arm around Felitïa and the other around Drummor. “That was so much fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”

A passing horse whinnied and reared back. The driver of the carriage it was pulling scrambled to get it back under control. Zandrue sighed and moved to the side of the road. The driver calmed the horse and the carriage continued on its way.

“What is it with you and animals?” Drummor asked.

“They hate me. Let’s just get—oh hell. Just what we need.”

Startled, Felitïa looked to see what Zandrue was reacting to. A short distance down the street, Captain Almais and two other city watchmen were coming towards them. They must have noticed the commotion with the horse.

“Good morning, ladies,” Almais said as he reached them. He didn’t acknowledge Drummor. “I haven’t seen you around for a while, Zandrue. Been keeping out of trouble?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Zandrue replied. “You’ve put me under the care of the world’s grumpiest man. He won’t let me get in trouble.”

“Elderaan is not that grumpy,” Felitïa muttered.

Almais chuckled. “Regretting your decision to take her in yet?”

Felitïa shook her head immediately. “No, not at all.”

“Very good then,” Almais said. “We won’t detain you any longer.”

Zandrue needed no further encouragement and continued the way they were going. Almais and his men turned away, but Felitïa called out to him. “Oh, Captain?”

He stopped and looked back. “Yes?”

“Those men who attacked me. What’s become of them? I’ve been trying to get news for months, and I keep getting a run-around.”

“Lord Belone banished them from the city,” Almais replied.

Felitïa’s heart skipped a beat. “Banished? They’re not in prison?”

Almais nodded.

“But what if they come back?”

“Don’t worry, miss. My men have their descriptions. If they try to come back, they’ll be caught and turned away, arrested again if they resist.”

Felitïa nodded uncertainly. “If you say so.” She couldn’t imagine that it would be all that hard to sneak into the city unseen by the watch. It wasn’t like Quorge was a gated city.

“I do say so,” Almais said. “Now, on your way. Oh, might I suggest that you, Zandrue, and your other friends stay out of this part of the city? There are many here who have heard of you. They don’t very much like that, not only have you tainted yourself with wizardry, but you’re also apprenticed to an Eloorin. You’re better off keeping your distance. Besides, if you keep to your area of town, it’ll be easier for me and my men to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. Just in case your attackers do try to sneak back in. Would be terrible if you got harmed without us being able to find you.”

Felitïa gritted her teeth. “Of course, Captain.”

“I’m glad we understand one another.” With that, he turned and continued on his way.

Felitïa watched him go. Had he just threatened her? It would be so easy to cloud his head a little, make him lose his balance, trip, and fall. A slight tilt of the head, a bending of the wrist, and the barest breath of a word. She stopped herself partway through the motions and watched as he and his men turned a corner. Zandrue would have done it.

Zandrue put an arm around her and squeezed her comfortingly once she’d rejoined the others and told them what Almais had said. “Almais is such an asshole,” Zandrue said. “But I’m sure everything will be okay. Those Darkers are probably long gone.”

Felitïa wasn’t so sure.

* * * * *

Felitïa breathed in deeply, letting the damp air fill her lungs. She kept her eyes closed, letting the darkness calm her thoughts. Then she breathed out again, maintaining the calm in her mind, emptying it of worries, desires, and the things that made her happy or excited. She pushed away the physical sensations of the rough ground, her hair against her neck as it blew in the wind, and her clothes against her skin. Only the gentle sound of waves washing up on the shore remained, but then she pushed those aside, too.

A room formed in her mind. It was circular, about six feet in diameter. There was no roof overhead, but the plain black walls rose as far as her mind’s eye could see, perhaps forever. The room was empty, just like her mind. She couldn’t even see herself. She had no physical substance or appearance here.

She breathed in again, and out.

The room wasn’t empty anymore. That wasn’t right.

Her father was there. And her younger brother Thilin. She wondered about them from time to time, how they had reacted to discovering she was gone, what they had thought of her. Cerus and Garet were there now, too, materialising as she thought of them. And Malef, Gabriella, Pastrin. Sinitïa, barely more than a baby when Felitïa had left, appeared in her father’s arms. Gods, even Annai was there. At least her mother wasn’t... No, there she was, too.

Felitïa sighed, and the room in her mind crumbled away. The sound of the waves returned, and the feel of the rocks and the wind.

She had found herself thinking a lot about her family in the months since Zandrue’s arrival, though she wasn’t sure why. Things were so much better with Elderaan. In the palace, she had always been bored. Nowadays, she never was—well, very rarely, at any rate, and when she was bored, it was usually for silly reasons. She was happy in Quorge with Elderaan.

But she did find herself missing Ardon now and then. And her father and Thilin. But none of the others. She had never missed the others. And she never would.

Was that childish of her?

She suspected Elderaan thought so, though he had never said so. It didn’t matter though. It had been six years since she had last seen her family. She had another life now. A better life.

“So, anything going to happen?”

Zandrue’s voice startled her. Gods, she really needed to learn better concentration. “Sorry,” Felitïa said. “Just gathering my thoughts.”

“Fine,” Zandrue replied. “Just give me a moment to move then, since now you know where I am.”

Felitïa kept her eyes closed and breathed in again, then out. She pushed her thoughts away and let the circular room in her mind’s eye reform. The black walls rose to infinity, and this time the room was truly empty. Her own thoughts did not invade it.

She let things stay like that for a few moments. Nothing changed.

Then she pushed the walls out a little farther until the diameter reached about ten feet. She paused and pushed back thoughts and memories that threatened to seep through the walls.

Something flickered to what her mind interpreted as her right. Boredom and impatience appeared by the wall. Neither really had an appearance she could describe—just a sensation—but they were there. And just a speck of worry and fear behind them. Felitïa wondered what they were doing there.

Without opening her eyes, she raised her arm and pointed. “There. About ten feet back.”

Zandrue laughed from right in front of her, and the room fell apart again.

Felitïa opened her eyes. Zandrue sat cross-legged not two feet in front of her, a grin on her face.

“I don’t think you could have been any more wrong than that.” Zandrue laughed.

Felitïa sighed. “I don’t get it. You were by the wall ten feet over. I could have sworn it.”

Zandrue looked to Felitïa’s right with raised eyebrows. “Felitïa, there isn’t a wall ten feet over. The closest wall is about half a mile away.”

“No, I mean in my head,” Felitïa said. “I’ve created this sort of room. When I clear my thoughts and focus on it, I can create it. The walls represent how far out I’m currently sensing. I think. I can push the walls out or pull them back in. Sort of. It’s hard to explain. I don’t really understand it myself.”

“And you thought you saw me ten feet to your right,” Zandrue said.

“Well, not really saw. More like felt. But yeah, basically. I guess.”

Felitïa stood up and walked along the beach to, as best she could tell—this was more instinct than anything—the spot that roughly corresponded to where she thought she had felt Zandrue. There was nothing there but more sand and stones. “Are you sure you didn’t just move after I pointed you out?” She turned back to face Zandrue.

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Zandrue replied. “Then I ran back over here, sat down, and laughed, all in a split second. I’m really that fast, don’t you know.”

“Very funny.” Felitïa turned back around and gazed at the docks of Quorge in the distance. “Maybe my mind just doesn’t know how to interpret the information it’s receiving. After all, I’m not really seeing a room in my head. It’s just my mind trying to visualise something that isn’t actually visual.”

“If you say so,” Zandrue said.

“The distances I think I see in my head may have nothing to do with actual distances,” Felitïa went on, more for her own benefit than for Zandrue’s. “Same with directions.” She frowned. “Of course, that just makes things a lot more difficult. How am I supposed to master this ability like that?”

“Beats me.” Zandrue came up beside her. “But I’d rather not sit here while you try to figure it out.”

“I thought you agreed that this is a relaxing place,” Felitïa said.

“It is. For talking, target practice, sword-fighting practice, you know, doing things. Not for sitting around waiting for you to do something.”

“You said you’d help me.”

Zandrue nodded. “I know. I did. And I will. I’m just bored. You can’t make it any more interesting?” She picked up a stone and threw it into the water.

Felitïa shrugged. “I don’t really know. There’s so much I don’t know about my abilities. They defy every attempt I make to learn about them.”

“Nothing in all those books in the Hall of Knowledge?”

Felitïa shook her head. “Not that I can find.”

“Doesn’t really surprise me.” Zandrue picked up another stone off the ground. “When we were in there the other day, I looked through a few of the books. One of them was called On the Structure of Human Hair or something like that. What the hell does anyone need a book like that for?” She tossed the stone into the water. The sense of worry Felitïa had detected earlier was getting stronger, now mixed with nervousness and anxiety.

“Well, for certain magical disciplines, it’s good to know lots about the body.” That was just a guess.

“Yeah, sure. Look, let’s just get on with things. Go sit down, close your eyes, and I’ll find a spot.”

“Are you okay, Zandrue? You’re on edge.”

Zandrue shrugged and fiddled with the latest stone she’d picked up. “I’m just not sure how comfortable I am with you poking around in my head.”

“I’m not doing that,” Felitïa replied. “That’s way beyond my abilities, but I wouldn’t do it if I could. I’m just picking up what you send out.”

Zandrue tossed the stone aside. “I’m not sure I like the implications of that either. I don’t like the idea that I’m sending out thoughts to anyone with the ability to pick them up.”

“It’s not really like that, either,” Felitïa said. “At least, not exactly. It’s complicated.”

“Whatever, I’ve been around you for several months now and nothing bad’s happened. This just kind of drew my attention to it, I guess. Anyway, why don’t we continue?”

Felitïa sat on the beach again. She closed her eyes and waited while she gave Zandrue a chance to pick a spot. She wasn’t convinced Zandrue had been fully open about her anxieties, but getting Zandrue to talk even a little was a small victory. And Zandrue seemed calmer now; Felitïa wasn’t receiving any more worry from her, at any rate. In fact, she was starting to receive some anticipation now—and amusement. What was she so amused by?

Cold water hit the top of her head and ran down her face, her ears, the back of her neck. Felitïa’s eyes shot open to see Zandrue standing in front of her holding an empty but dripping sack. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” She darted off laughing before Felitïa could react.

Felitïa wiped her forehead and eyes, and couldn’t help but laugh as well. Looked like these exercises were not going to get anywhere today. She stood up and chased after Zandrue.

* * * * *

“Gods, I hate this place.”

Felitïa smirked, but hid her face in the book she’d just grabbed so Zandrue couldn’t see. “You say that every time we’re here.” To be fair, the stacks of the Hall of Knowledge were not the most exciting place to be.

Zandrue leaned her head against a shelf. “That would be because it’s awful. It’s cold. There are no chairs. The floor is cold and hard so you can’t sit comfortably on it. Gods forbid I should want to lie down.” She banged her head lightly against the shelf. “And it’s so boring! Did I mention it’s cold?”

Felitïa closed the book. “You don’t have to come with me, you know. Not anymore.” Elderaan had decided he trusted Zandrue enough now that she no longer had to stay in Felitïa’s sight at all times.

“And what else am I supposed to do? I can’t wander the city alone or Almais will have my head.”

“Like I believe you’re not capable of avoiding Almais,” Felitïa said.

Zandrue snorted and leaned against the stack. “Yeah, I suppose I could do that, but that still leaves the question of what else I’m supposed to do.”

Felitïa held the book out. “You could read this book for me.”

Zandrue smirked. “Are you trying to tell me I won’t be bored reading that book? Because if you are, that’s bullshit.”

Felitïa rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” Zandrue snatched the book. “Meditation practices. How exciting.”

Felitïa stuck her tongue out at her.

Zandrue began flipping through the book. “What am I looking for this time?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure.”

“You never are. Some guidance?”

“I had this thought,” Felitïa began. “The incantations we speak when we cast a spell are important, but mostly to help focus the mind, right?”

Zandrue shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the wizard.”

“Well, they are. Anyway, meditation also frequently uses chants and other sounds to help you keep focus. I thought maybe I could adapt that in some way with my telepathy. Maybe it could help focus my telepathic mind somehow.”

“So you want me to find chants and stuff?”

Felitïa nodded. “Something like that.”

Zandrue shrugged. “Okay, but if I fall asleep on page two, it’s...” Fear shot from her and pummelled into Felitïa. Then it stopped.

“Zandrue?”

Zandrue was standing still, and the book was sliding from her fingers. The fear started again, this time dull but rising.

“Zandrue, what’s wrong?”

Zandrue caught the book just before it fell, and looked at Felitïa. “There you go again. Reading my mind.” The fear was still increasing.

“I’m sorry. You know I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re afraid again, Zandrue. The same fears you never talk about, and you probably won’t talk about them now, but I just want to help. They spring up in you so suddenly with no warning. I worry about you, you know.”

Zandrue turned away from her. “Everyone has random thoughts, Felitïa, and sometimes they dredge up...” She took a deep breath.

“If you want to talk, you know I’m here.”

Zandrue shook her head and turned back to her. “Nothing you can help with, but thanks.” She handed the book back to Felitïa. “I need to go.”

Felitïa took the book. “Okay. I’ll see you back at the shop in a little while.”

Zandrue frowned. “No. You misunderstand. I’m not going back to the shop. I mean, I am, but only to pick up some things. Then I have to leave.” Remorse and sadness had joined Zandrue’s fear.

“Leave? I don’t think I’m following.”

Zandrue wiped a tear from her eye and forced a smile. “Leaving the city.”

“What?”

“Just for a while. I know this isn’t much notice. It kind of just came up. It’s safer this way.”

Felitïa reached for her. “I don’t understand. You’re safe here. You’ve admitted it’s working. If you leave, you’ll...”

Zandrue pulled away from her. “Trust me, it’s safer. I just have to...take care of some business.”

“Business? What business?”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“But—”

“I can’t!”

The burst of anger made Felitïa stumble.

“I won’t be long,” Zandrue said. “A week, maybe two or three. I’m not really sure.”

“I just wish...”

“Don’t push this, Felitïa. I have my reasons, okay? But I really will come back. I promise.”

Felitïa gaped.

“Just trust me, please?”

Felitïa quivered and nodded slowly.

“I’ll let Elderaan know I’m going.”

“You might be better off not telling him,” Felitïa stuttered.

“No, better to face his anger now than when I get back. It’d be way worse that way.”

“What if he stops you? He could, you know.”

Zandrue shrugged. “He could, but I don’t think he will. He might threaten, but I don’t think he’d go through with it.”

Felitïa nodded. Zandrue was right.

“See you in a week or two.” Zandrue turned and headed for the stairs back up to the entry hall. She paused at the bottom and looked back. “I’m really sorry.” Then she climbed the stairs and was gone.

Felitïa slid to the floor between the two stacks, knocking over the small pile of books she’d gathered. She wiped the tears from her eyes and sat there shivering in the cold.

* * * * *

There was a creak, and Felitïa opened her eyes. The bedroom door was edging open. She couldn’t sense any emotions, but her abilities often took awhile to wake up after she’d been asleep. She tried to shake off her grogginess and prepared to cast a spell.

There was only the faintest glow from embers in the fireplace to light the room and it cast shadows everywhere, but Felitïa recognised the profile in the door.

“Zandrue?” She tossed her blankets aside and leapt from the bed. “Zandrue!” She ran over to her and threw her arms around her. “Thank the gods. I was so worried you wouldn’t come back.”

Zandrue put her arms around her and hugged her. “I told you I would.”

“I know, but...”

“You didn’t trust me?” She let go of Felitïa and stepped back.

Felitïa shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Elderaan didn’t trust you.”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m not surprised.”

“But I trust you. I was just worried something had happened to you. You said a week or two. It’s been three!”

“I did say it might be three. And it’s only been two weeks and six days.”

Felitïa rolled her eyes, though Zandrue probably couldn’t see her. She went to the fireplace, took a spill from the vase on the mantle, and held one end in the hot embers until it lit.

“I am sorry, though,” Zandrue said. “I didn’t really expect it to be this long. I just...” She sighed.

Felitïa lit a couple of candles, then turned to face Zandrue. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me about what you did, where you went?” She blew out the spill. “Sights you saw? People you met?”

Zandrue smirked. “There’s not really anything to tell.”

“There’s why...”

Zandrue shook her head. “Not that.”

“No, of course not.” Felitïa carried one of the candles over to the bedside table and used it to light the one there. Then she sat on the bed.

“I did miss you, though,” Zandrue said, walking over beside her. “And Drummor, and I suppose even the old man. I’ve been here a year now, and I guess I’ve gotten used to you all.”

Felitïa smiled. “I missed you, too. I just wish...”

Zandrue sat beside her. “If you really do trust me, then trust that I have my reasons.”

“And what about me? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. I really do. I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever know. I mean it.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

Zandrue leaned her head on Felitïa’s shoulder. “Let’s just leave it for now, okay? Please?”

Felitïa tilted her head to touch Zandrue’s. “Fine.”

The slightest hint of relief flowed from Zandrue. “So, tell me. What did I miss?”

“New Year’s,” Felitïa said.

“How was the festival?”

“I didn’t go.”

Zandrue pulled away from Felitïa and sat up. “I hope you weren’t sulking because I wasn’t there.”

Felitïa shook her head. “No, I was just...scared. It was the one-year anniversary.”

Zandrue sighed. “Felitïa, those guys are long gone. We’ve heard nothing of them.”

“I know. It’s just, there was something about them, especially their leader. And he said it wasn’t over, and...”

Zandrue put an arm around her.

“I started having nightmares a couple weeks ago. Almost every night up to New Year’s. I haven’t had one for a couple days now, so maybe they’ve stopped, but I’m still scared.”

Zandrue hugged her tightly. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Just don’t go away again.”

Zandrue’s grip loosened, and fear and regret emanated from her. “I can’t promise that.”

Felitïa pushed her away.

“In fact, I can pretty much guarantee it will happen again. Probably once or twice a year.”

Felitïa stood up. “Whatever.”

Zandrue reached for her. “Felitïa...”

“I’ll let Elderaan know you’re back.” She stormed from the room.

* * * * *

There was no one in the showroom, so Felitïa closed her eyes. She would know as soon as anyone entered. In her head, she constructed the black walls stretching up to infinity and formed what she had just now decided to call “the Room”. She’d basically been calling it that ever since she’d first formed it, so she might as well decide that was its name. Zandrue thought she should come up with something more original, but Felitïa liked the simplicity of it.

Using the Room had done a lot for her concentration. She still had issues, but even Elderaan admitted that she’d improved.

It hadn’t done much to help her understand her telepathy though. She was starting to wonder if she would ever understand that part of herself.

A presence appeared in the Room. A customer? Possibly. Unfortunately, there was still no correlation she could recognize between a presence’s location in the Room and the person’s location in the real world—other than somewhere in the vicinity, though even there, there wasn’t a lot of consistency to the range of her abilities.

She opened her eyes.

It was Elderaan coming down the stairs. “Sleeping on the job again, I see, hmm?”

“I was not asleep,” Felitïa said. But she knew he knew that. He was just playing with her.

Elderaan chuckled. “Have I told you how proud I am of you for developing this Room thing of yours?”

She smiled. “A few times, yes, but I don’t mind if you tell me again.”

“Then I’m very proud of you. It’s done wonders for your concentration.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and came towards her. “Where’s Zandrue? I have a task for her.”

“Off with Drummor somewhere.”

“Without you?”

“I had to work the shop. Besides, I’d just be in the way.”

“Oh?”

“They’ve got a thing going at the moment.” She grimaced at him. “I wouldn’t want to be there.”

Elderaan chuckled. “Do they now? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The three of you don’t have much of a social circle to choose from. Though I’m clearly losing track of what’s happening around me. When did he stop being interested in you?”

Felitïa snorted. “You are out of touch. That would be a couple of years ago after I turned him down and Zandrue came into the picture. She’s much more receptive to that kind of thing.”

“Though she did turn you down, hmm?”

Felitïa blushed. “Yes, but that was also ages ago. I’m long over that.” That was true. Mostly.

Elderaan leaned on the counter, breathing heavily. Felitïa had noticed him doing that quite a bit recently. “When did this little thing between them start?” he asked.

“Just a couple weeks ago after she got back from her latest...trip.” Felitïa wasn’t sure what exactly to call Zandrue’s disappearances. She still wouldn’t talk about them, and Felitïa had pretty much given up trying to get her to. This had been her fifth one in the three years they’d known each other.

Elderaan grunted. “I swear, next time she tries to go on one of these...trips...I’m going to make it clear that if she leaves, she won’t be welcome back.”

“You don’t mean that, and you know it. You miss her just as much as me when she’s gone.”

Elderaan harrumphed. He hadn’t given up trying to get Zandrue to talk about her past. Every time she announced she was leaving for a while again, they would argue. Each time, their arguments got louder and more vehement. He’d always scream at Zandrue that she wasn’t welcome back.

And he always let her back.

“What did you want her for, anyway?” Felitïa asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing important. I just wanted her to pick up a few things from the market for me.”

“I can do that for you.”

“No, no. It can wait. You stay here, watch the shop and keep practising your concentration. You’re so close now, Felitïa. You’re going to be a powerful wizard.”

Felitïa smiled and lowered her head to hide her blush.

Elderaan started back for the stairs, but stopped. He turned slowly back to her. “That reminds me. Have you given any thought to what you intend to do once you’ve finished your training?”

Felitïa kept her head down and grimaced. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’ll keep working at the shop here with you.”

“Forever? What about after I’m gone?”

“Oh, let’s not talk about that. That’s a long way away.”

Elderaan straightened himself up. “It will happen eventually, Felitïa. I’m getting old.” Hints of impatience flickered from him.

“Yes, I know, but...”

“No buts! This is a serious issue that we need to discuss, and I would have thought that you knew better than to shy away from it. Now, it’s clear that you need to think about it before we discuss it, so I suggest you do so promptly. I don’t want to wait too long. Hopefully, I still have many years left to me, but there are never any guarantees, and it’s important to me to know that you’re prepared for when I’m gone. I hope I’ve made myself clear, yes, hmm?”

Felitïa nodded hurriedly. “Yes, perfectly.”

“Then continue your concentration practice. I intend to test you at our lesson later. We’ll talk about this matter in a few days.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” He smiled and relaxed, slouching over slightly. With a deep breath, he turned to the stairs.

Felitïa sat there, staring at the showroom. The Room wouldn’t form in her head. Her concentration for the moment was ruined. Over the last several years, she’d focused so much on becoming a wizard that she had rarely put any thought into what she was going to do after she accomplished it. The rare times she had thought about it, she hadn’t spent much time before pushing the thoughts aside with the idea she could think about it “another time”. But that time never came because she didn’t want to face the fact she had absolutely no idea what she wanted.

* * * * *

“It has been seventy-three years since this institution last conferred the status of wizard upon a Folith,” Madame Ezmelda announced as Felitïa knelt in front of her. “May today’s events be an indicator that the barriers between peoples can be breached. Asa, according to the testimony of Elderaan, Grand Master of Mentalism, you have been an exemplary student and are more than ready to receive this mantle.”

Elderaan hadn’t wanted this ceremony. “Just more of Ezmelda’s pomp and circumstance,” he had said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already a wizard and have been for at least two years. You don’t need a ceremony to say that.” Felitïa had agreed with him, but as the date had approached, she’d found herself looking forward to it, and now she was here, she was feeling quite a bit of pride and excitement.

“Over the last ten years,” Ezmelda continued, “I have watched as you have matured. I have observed your dedication to both your studies and your master.”

Felitïa did hope that Ezmelda’s speech didn’t go on long, though. The floor in the foyer of the Hall of Knowledge was both hard and cold.

“You have shown diligence and determination, intelligence and creativity, and respect for your craft and your peers. I first met Asa ten years ago when she was just an orphaned child on the streets. At the time, I would never have guessed that this girl who had the impudence to ask me to train her as a wizard would one day actually wear that mantle.”

Elderaan may not have wanted this ceremony, but Felitïa could sense how proud he was now. She couldn’t turn to look at him, but she was certain he was beaming. Drummor and Agernon were there too. Drummor had received his title just before her, and Ezmelda had talked for over twenty minutes about all the things that made Drummor the perfect wizard. As Drummor’s aunt, she knew him better than she knew Felitïa, so Felitïa hoped she wouldn’t have as much to say about her. Her knees were aching.

Yet Ezmelda kept talking—about the various times Felitïa had come to the Hall of Knowledge over the years.

There was no Zandrue though. Felitïa pushed aside the thoughts of disappointment and anger. It wasn’t good to let such feelings ruin the moment.

Zandrue had been so excited about the ceremony. For all of Elderaan’s grumpiness over it, Zandrue’s pleasure had outshone it by several degrees. She had gone with Felitïa to pick out the dress Felitïa was now wearing, had sat with her through the fittings, and had patiently listened to Felitïa practise her acceptance speech, offering suggestions and words of encouragement.

Then yesterday, she had announced that she had to go on one of her “trips”. As usual, she wouldn’t say what she was doing or where she was going. Over the last couple years, Felitïa had continued to try not to object too much.

But she couldn’t say nothing this time. Felitïa had begged her to wait one day longer before leaving, but Zandrue still refused. She had said she wished she could, but there was nothing she could do. In her defence, she had been radiating feelings of remorse. Nevertheless, Felitïa had never felt so disappointed and angry at Zandrue. After all the years they had known each other, Zandrue still wouldn’t open up about her past, and as much as Zandrue insisted that it wasn’t, Felitïa saw that as a lack of trust in her. This latest departure was, perhaps, the greatest expression of that.

“Asa, as High Steward of the Hall of Knowledge,” Ezmelda said, finally rounding up her speech, “I agree with Grand Master of Mentalism Elderaan that you are ready for the mantle of wizard, and the Council concurs.” She placed a hand on Felitïa’s forehead and began to speak in Folithan.

Felitïa had not expectied this. The words Ezmelda said were something about how Felitïa being a Folith meant they should honour Folith magical traditions as well as those of the Hall of Knowledge. Felitïa didn’t even know there were any Folith magical traditions. They must have been from centuries past. It was difficult to follow the rest of what Ezmelda was saying—Felitïa hadn’t used any Folithan since her time training for the priesthood—but there was a lot of religious terminology and asking Power to bless her with the wisdom to use her skills wisely. No, that couldn’t be right—that was redundant—but there was something about blessings and wisdom.

Every time Zandrue took off, it brought back memories of when they met—and with that came the memories of the Darkers. And the nightmares.

This isn’t over, Will-Breaker.

But they had never come back, and Felitïa couldn’t help but wonder why. In the years since, Felitïa had studied up on whatever she could find about Darkers, though there wasn’t much. She had also made some effort to track down whoever Quilla was. She’d learnt that Quilla was an Eloorin name—as in an actual Eloorin from old Elooria. These days, ever since Foliths had taken over, Eloorin was more of a catch-all term for a group of cultures and ethnicities from the same general region of the continent. Regardless of the name’s origin, though, this particular Quilla could be from just about anywhere. Not in Quorge, though. Felitïa had determined that if there were any Quillas in Quorge, they were staying well hidden or going by other names.

Ezmelda finished speaking in Folithan and said, “Please stand.”

Felitïa did so, grateful to be off her knees at last. She stood close to Ezmelda as she had been instructed. Felitïa was not a short woman, but nonetheless her eyes were only level with Ezmelda’s neck.

Ezmelda placed her hands on Felitïa’s shoulders. “Asa, I hereby grant you the title of Wizard, First Class, of Mentalism. Congratulations.” She hugged Felitïa.

Another surprise. First Class? Felitïa hoped Drummor wasn’t jealous. His title was just plain Wizard of Enchantment.

Ezmelda stepped aside as Senior Librarian Pedrin came up to offer his congratulations as well, followed one-by-one by the other members of the council.

Then Felitïa turned to face her crowd of onlookers—all three of them—and give her speech. As she had known, Elderaan had a wide smile across his face. Drummor was grinning and Agernon looked impatient, but there was a hint of a smile there, too.

Felitïa had been hoping maybe Zandrue would be there, that she would have sneaked in while Felitïa was staring at the skirts of Ezmelda’s dress. But no. There was no sign of her. Felitïa sighed and started into her speech.

When she was done, she hugged Ezmelda again, then went to Elderaan and hugged him. “You should have left out the thanks to Zandrue,” he said.

“No, I really shouldn’t have.” She had considered it, but didn’t want anger getting the better of her. She turned to Drummor and hugged him. Agernon protested a little, but then let her.

“You’ve done well,” Agernon said, then walked towards the doors, his cane clacking on the stone.

“From him, that’s pretty high praise,” Drummor said.

Felitïa lent Elderaan her support as they started down the stairs outside, but he still had to stop for a rest halfway down. “If I hadn’t had to stand for that whole blasted ceremony,” he said, “I could make it all the way down.” He wrapped his white cloak around himself in agitation.

“Of course,” Felitïa humoured him. His health was not great these days and he tired out easily. Felitïa was surprised he’d made it halfway down the stairs now, especially with all the ice they had to navigate. He refused to admit his condition, though. At home, he had to struggle to climb the stairs to his room, but he refused to switch rooms with her and Zandrue. His stubbornness was going to kill him, but there was little Felitïa could do other than be there to help him when he needed it.

After several minutes, Agernon said, “Enough. Let’s move before we freeze to death.”

Agernon was older than Elderaan, but he was ageing much more gracefully. Indeed, he didn’t look much older than he had when Felitïa first met him. He had even less hair, but that was about it. Despite his bad leg, he still had no difficulty navigating these stairs without assistance. Though Felitïa could see how now. She had suspected as much, though in ten years, today was the first time she had been close enough when he’d been using them for her to confirm it. He used magic. It lifted him from step to step so that he seemed to bounce down the stairs.

“Are you ready?” Felitïa asked Elderaan.

“Hmm? Ready for what?”

“To get going.”

“What? Oh, yes, yes, of course. Well, let’s get going, hmm! Before we freeze, like Agernon says.”

Felitïa lent him her arm and helped him to his feet again. He was losing focus these days, too. Not often, but often enough to notice. The other week, during a meeting with one of his suppliers, she had had to use magic to surreptitiously boost his mental state when he had started to forget where he was. It frightened her not just because she had had to use magic on him, but also that he hadn’t noticed.

Gods, she wished Zandrue were here.