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“ARIA, MY DEAR, SIT down!” Meris repeated. “You’re making me tired.”
Aria glanced at the older woman. She was having trouble thinking of Meris as a relative and as her great-grandmother. Liara had been with her family when the Firstborn had fallen, and had remained with her flock to raise her daughter, but she’d never married, had refused all offers of marriage. Aria’s bloodline as the daughter of Milon, the last Heir, made her something of a prize among the marriageable daughters of the flock. But in the Air tribes, a mixed blood daughter had little status, and a fatherless daughter had no status at all. Which meant that while her flock was headed by her grandfather, and while she had aunts and uncles and cousins, none of them had ever really known how to treat Aria in terms of family hierarchy. She’d never been close to any of them. It had always just been her and her mother, and her mother’s rather grandiose views on who Aria was and how she should behave. She’d learned better since, but having this tiny, old woman welcome her so warmly was strange, and Aria wasn’t sure if she believed Meris when she said how much she wanted to know Aria.
“Grandmother,” Aria said. “I’m not sure I understand how Fandor got in. He came out through the house. I’m certain of that.”
“He had to have,” Memfis said as he came back into the library. “There’s no access to the street from that garden. That’s why it’s supposed to be safe.”
“How did he get into the house,” Aria asked. “Has anyone found out?”
Meris frowned. “Memfis, I haven’t spoken to Elanthe yet. Would you ring for her?”
Memfis nodded and went to the corner, pulling a golden rope that dangled there.
“How are they?” Aria asked.
“Aven says you should come out. He thinks Owyn will appreciate having you there when he wakes up,” Memfis answered. “But we’ll give them an hour. He was falling asleep when I left him. And Owyn is asleep, which means that Aven is a better healer than he thinks he is.” He went to the table of bottles and filled a glass with a clear, amber-colored liquid.
“Memfis—” There was a definite warning tone in Meris’ voice that left Aria wondering what was in the bottle.
“It’s one drink, Meris,” Memfis protested. “One. To settle myself. Walking out there—” He shook his head. Then he looked down at the glass he was holding and put it down. “And you’re right. One leads to two leads to Memfis not being able to see straight.”
“And we need you fully functional,” Meris said, her voice firm. She turned in her chair. “Where is Elanthe?”
“Who is Elanthe?” Aria asked.
“My housekeeper,” Meris answered. “You probably met her in the kitchen.”
Aria thought about the people in the kitchen. “There was a woman there. She told Owyn that she knew how to feed a child of water. She told us to wait in the garden, and she’d bring us something to eat. But she never came out.”
“That was probably Elanthe. She’s very fond of Owyn,” Meris said. “Memfis, be a dear and go see where she is?”
“May I come?” Aria asked. “I want to see to my men.”
That drew an amused chuckle from Meris. “Of course, my dear. We’ll all go.” She rose from her chair, steadying herself on her cane. “As we go, we should talk. If you’d been raised as you ought to have been as Milon’s daughter, in the Palace, you’d have been trained to know what to expect should you be chosen Heir. You’ve had none of that training. You probably have no idea what to expect as Heir.”
Aria tucked her wings in close to her back and fell in next to the older woman. “I hardly think that there’s any training that would have prepared me properly for what’s happened over the past month.”
“Oh, of course there isn’t,” Meris agreed. “But if you’d been born as you ought to have been, in the Palace of the Firstborn, you and Aven and any other children born to the Companions would have been taught from birth what to expect, and what was expected of you. Now, I’ll do my best to fill in the gaps in that training. But what I was thinking of here was more along the lines of what to expect from your Companions. You have two of the four, and I think you may have already found your Heart —”
“My heart?”
“Meris means Aven,” Memfis said.
“I do think that he is the one, yes,” Meris said. “But I also think that Aria doesn’t know what I mean, so do hush, Memfis.” Memfis laughed and continued walking; Meris took Aria’s arm.
“Now, what I mean by Heart,” she said as they continued down the corridor. “The Heir is the center of the Companion’s world, and it’s not an easy task to be a Companion. So, in every group of Heir and Companions, there is one who is the Heart of that group. The Heart is the one to whom the Companions turn for guidance, for comfort, for support in their most important role. Sometimes, the Heart is the Heir themselves, and they care for their Companions as much as the Companions care for them. But in times of great need, the Mother sees fit to divide the burden of rule. In those cases, the Heart helps the Heir to bear the load. The Heir rules and cares for all of the people. The Heart sees to the Heir, and to the other Companions.”
Aria smiled. “Then yes, that is Aven,” she agreed. “Grandmother, will we all recognize each other every time? Aven said that he knew I was in the hold of that ship, as soon as he stepped onto the deck. We both recognized Owyn when we saw him. Will we all know our Earth, our Air?”
Meris looked startled. “You both recognized Owyn?”
“Of course,” Aria answered. Then she considered how surprised Meris had seemed. “Is that odd?”
“It’s unusual,” Meris said slowly. “It’s unusual for the bond to be so strong that anyone other than the Heir recognizes the other Companions. Did Owyn know you as well?”
“I think so,” Aria said. “He told us that he thought it was simple attraction. You would have to ask him for more.” She looked down the corridor to see Memfis turn into an open door, and recognized it as where Owyn had brought them earlier. She fought the urge to walk faster, but it was hard. She felt incredibly alone. She wanted Aven and Owyn at her sides, where they belonged. “What do I do when I find my others, Grandmother?” she asked.
“That, I can’t answer,” Meris answered. “I don’t know the next step. None of us do.”
“Who is “us”?”
“The Smoke Dancers,” Meris said. “We’ve tried to look, but there are too many variables. Any time a Smoke Dancer has sought an answer of what to do about Mannon, and how to restore the Firstborn, all we’ve seen has been the vision of the dove. For over twenty years, there’s been nothing else.”
“That’s the vision I had that sent me to the Temple,” Aria said. “Did Memfis tell you? I saw them — the dove, the water-cat, the flame, the flower, and the broken feather.” She sighed. “The broken feather — that disturbs me.”
“I’d be surprised if it did not,” Meris said. She stopped, and Aria looked up to see Memfis had come back into the corridor. He looked shaken, and he carried Aven’s carry-bag in one hand. The strap was torn.
“They’re gone,” he said, his voice sounding harsh. “The garden is empty. The kitchens are empty. They’re gone.”
For a moment, nothing he’d said made sense. Gone? Empty? What? Then she realized what he meant, what Memfis having Aven’s carry-bag had to mean. She pulled away from Meris and ran, pushing past Memfis and into the kitchen. She didn’t stop, racing out into the dark gardens. Hadn’t there been lights before? She didn’t stop to think about it, heading for the wooden structure — the gazebo, Meris had called it. That had been where she’d last seen Aven and Owyn.
“Aven!” she called. “Owyn!” No answer, and she turned to see Memfis behind her. “What did you see?” she demanded.
“I came out and saw the lanterns were out,” Memfis said. He sounded puzzled. “Owyn doesn’t like the dark, so I went to the gazebo to check on them first. I found the bag, and the blanket. Nothing else.”
“Lights,” Aria said, turning around. It was dark enough that she couldn’t make out anything. “We need lights. We need to see what happened here.” She turned back to the house, saw Meris in the doorway. “Grandmother, someone in your house betrayed you. Betrayed us.”
“Memfis, light the lanterns,” Meris said, her voice steely cold. “I am going to find Elanthe and find out just what happened here.” She disappeared into the kitchen, and Memfis followed. He came back a moment later carrying a lamp and a long slip that he used to light the lanterns around the garden. Then he joined Aria at the gazebo. The benches had been overturned, and the ground around the stone table was churned up. Aria stooped and picked up the blanket — it was torn. No, no, it was cut.
“Is there blood?” she asked softly. “Can you see?”
“No,” Memfis answered. He bent, and picked up a rag that had fallen out of the bundled blanket. He sniffed it, and made a face.
“What is that?”
He held it out. “Sniff, but don’t breathe too deeply.”
Aria sniffed, smelling a bittersweet something. “What is it?”
“Dreamflower elixir,” Memfis answered. “It’s what healers use to knock patients out when they’re in pain. It’s powerful stuff.”
Meris came out of the kitchen. “Memfis.” Memfis and Aria both turned. “Elanthe—”
“Please tell me she’s not dead?” Memfis asked.
“No, but I don’t know if she’ll wake,” Meris said. “I’ll have to send for a healer.”
“And the other servants?” Memfis asked. “Turin, and Elise, and what’s his name, that new—” He stopped. “Well, shit.”
“The new groom,” Meris said softly. “How long has he been planning this, do you think?”
“Does it matter?” Aria asked. “Fandor has my men. Where would he take them?”
“I don’t know,” Memfis said. “Karse. We need Karse. He might know.”
“We need better than might, Memfis,” Aria snapped. “Owyn says that if he is under Fandor’s power again, he will not walk away. He believes that Fandor will kill him.”
“He said that?” Memfis gasped. “No.” He turned around. “Meris—”
“We’ll find them,” Meris said firmly. Then she sighed. “I should have listened to you earlier, Aria.”
Aria turned, going to Memfis and taking the ruins of Aven’s bag. The strap had been cut, and she wondered if she could repair it for him.
If she’d have the chance to give it to him.
“Yes,” she said softly. “You should have.”
******
AVEN CLOSED HIS EYES and tried to breathe, tried to think. His head was pounding, and waves of nausea kept washing over him, worse than when he’d eaten the cheese. He struggled to control his sickness — they’d left him gagged, and he didn’t dare vomit, or he’d suffocate. He drew another long breath through his nose and started tugging against ropes once more. He’d woken up here, bound to a high-backed chair in what appeared to be an ornately furnished room. He couldn’t see much of the room — the gag was fastened to the back of the chair, so he couldn’t turn his head. He could feel tight ropes crossing his upper arms and his waist, and his legs were bound together, then tied to the chair. His wrists were tied to the arms of the chair, and whoever had done it knew what they were doing — he had pulled and fought until his wrists were raw and he was dripping in sweat, but he hadn’t managed to shift an inch. And, the worst of it all, he was fairly certain that he was alone.
Where was Owyn? He growled into the gag. Sacred or not, once he was free of this blasted chair, he was going to use Fandor’s guts to make fishing nets. He tugged hard, and felt warmth trickling over the back of his wrist. The pain did only a little to clear his head and drive the nausea back. What had been on that cloth?
Unbidden, he heard his father’s voice, a half-forgotten lecture. Dreamflower elixir, Jehan said. There’s a pretty blue flower that grows up in the mountains. It’s called Maiden’s Tears. If you cold press the flowers, you get a perfume oil. If you heat distill it, you get dreamflower elixir. It’s a powerful tool in a healer’s kit — puts the patient to sleep, and keeps them under for about an hour. That’s usually long enough to do whatever you need to do, and you don’t have to use power to keep them asleep. You can focus on the healing.
We’ve done this one, Fa, Aven remembered saying.
Fine, then, Jehan said. Tell me the side effects.
When used in excess, the patient may suffer headaches, nausea and vomiting, Aven recited. There’s also the chance of delirium, and in too large a dose, death.
And how much is too much? Jehan asked.
That was the puzzle. No one really knew how much was too much, and the smart healer used dreamflower drop by drop on a breathing cone until the patient was asleep. Fandor hadn’t used a breathing cone. He’d soaked rags in the stuff. No wonder Aven felt the way he did.
Owyn was smaller than Aven. Had the amount of dreamflower that was necessary to put Aven to sleep been too much for him?
Was that why Aven was alone? Was Owyn dead?
Aven wanted to scream, and he tugged hard against the ropes again, feeling more blood flowing over the back of his hand. After a few minutes of thrashing , he fell still, panting. He was caught, and Fandor would probably hand him over to Mannon. There was nothing he could do to save himself.
He’d failed them.
What happened, he wondered, when a Companion died? Would the Heir find someone to take their place? He hoped so. He hoped Aria wouldn’t mourn them too much. He hoped Memfis would get her to safety. He hoped she’d find the pearl, and know that it was supposed to be for her.
Behind him, he heard a click, and a draft cooled the sweat on the back of his neck. He stiffened, hearing soft footsteps, and another click. He could hear movement behind him, but nothing was said. Then someone moved into his line of sight — a young man. He was barely dressed, wearing an open vest, and low-slung trousers that were open from waist to ankle, showing off the entire length of his legs from his bare feet to his hips. There was a silver collar around his neck, half hidden by long, white-blonde hair. He held one finger to his mouth, then raised his brows. Aven nodded, as much as he could, and the young man smiled. He moved out of sight, and Aven felt something tugging at his head. The gag fell away, and Aven swallowed, coughed, then swallowed again. The ropes around his chest and arms loosened next, and the young man reappeared. He repeated the gesture, holding his finger to his lips. Aven nodded, and watched as the young man knelt and started untying ropes. While he worked, Aven turned and looked around the room.
“Where are we?” he whispered. The young man looked up, and Aven saw that his eyes were as golden as Aria’s. He was, Aven realized, incredibly beautiful. And he was... something. Something Aven knew that he needed, the same way he needed Aria, or Owyn.
Mother of all... was this one of their Companions?
The young man shook his head, tapped his throat, then shook his head again. He finished untying Aven’s legs, and reached for the ropes at his left wrist.
“You don’t speak?” Aven whispered. “You can’t speak?”
He nodded, untying Aven’s right wrist. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the abrasions.
“I’ll see to it later,” Aven whispered. He looked over his shoulder. “How do I get out of here?”
His rescuer nodded, and finished freeing him from the chair. He rose to his feet as Aven got up, and pointed to the door. He held his finger to his lips again, then frowned and started moving his hands in gestures that Aven knew, but would never have expected from someone who wasn’t Water.
“You know Water signs? How do you know Water signs?” Aven whispered. He shook his head. “No time. Four guards, you said?”
A brilliant smile, and a nod.
“All right. How do we get past them?”
The young man went to the door. He opened it a crack and peered outside, then gestured for Aven to follow him. Silently, they crept through the corridors, down stairs, and into a kitchen. There, the young man pointed urgently at a door.
“That’s the way out?” Aven asked. An emphatic nod, and Aven looked at the door. Then he looked back at his rescuer. “Come with me.”
Gold eyes went wide, and the young man shook his head.
“They’re going to know you let me go,” Aven insisted. “You’re in danger.”
The young man laughed, silently. He went to a corner by the large fireplace, where Aven could see a chain attached to a ring in the wall. The young man picked the chain up, attached it to his collar, then went to his knees on a small pallet. He smiled up at Aven, unfastened the chain, then refastened it. He smiled again.
Aven frowned, then realization dawned. “Whoever put you here doesn’t know you can undo that,” he murmured. “They think you’re secure. So they won’t know how I got away.” The young man nodded, then pointed at the door. Aven looked at it, then went to one knee in front of the young man. “You saved my life, and I don’t even know your name.”
The young man smiled, his face turning ever so slightly pink. He raised his hands and signed, “My name is Del.”
“Del,” Aven said. “Thank you. If I can, I’m coming back for you.”
Del’s eyes widened. He shook his head, then turned and looked at the door from the kitchen into the house. He pointed at the other door. Aven took the hint. He got to his feet and ran, out the door and into the night.
******
ARIA HEARD MEMFIS BEFORE he entered the room. He’d gone for help, and had been gone long enough that she was starting to wonder if he was coming back. She set another stitch into the strap of Aven’s bag, examined her work, then got up from her chair as the door opened. Meris entered first, looking tired and frail. Memfis came behind her, followed by two more men. The uniforms they wore were similar to the ones Aria had seen on men in the garden, and she touched the gauntlet on her left wrist.
Memfis saw the movement. “Aria, this is District Captain Karse, and his second, Trey. They can be trusted.” He turned, and saw what was on the table next to where Aria had been sitting. “You emptied the bag?”
“I needed to fix it. It was too heavy when it was full.” She looked down at the jar of salt, the Diadem, the gems, and the single pearl that she hadn’t known Aven had been carrying. She reached out and touched the Diadem.
“Is that...” Karse started. He came closer, looking at the table. “Is that what I think it is?”
Aria met his eyes. “If you think it is the Heir’s Diadem, you are correct.”
“Karse,” Memfis said. “Allow me to present Aria, daughter of Milon.”
Karse’s eyes went wide. “Milon? The real Heir?” He turned to Memfis. “Fisher, you son of a bitch. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Memfis snorted. “There’s a lot I don’t tell you, Karse.”
“Sure, I know that. Like your real damned name, Memfis.” Karse turned from a shocked-looking Memfis back to Aria, then went to one knee. “My Heir.”
Aria swallowed, stunned. Out of everything that could have happened in this moment, this was not something she’d foreseen. “Karse, please stand. We don’t have time for pleasantries.”
Karse got to his feet. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“Fandor,” Memfis said. “He’s taken Owyn. And he took Aven—”
“Who?” Karse frowned. “Would that be the one you called Este?” He blinked. “Well, shit. You said his father’s name was Jhansri. I wondered why that sounded familiar. He never went by that name, did he? He was Jehan. Healer Jehan, the Earthborn.” He rubbed his forehead. “That’s what was bothering me about him. He looked so familiar! He looks like his father!”
“You knew Jehan?” Memfis asked. “How?”
Karse laughed. “You never knew, did you? My father served in the palace. He was an assistant to the major-domo. Died there, with the Firstborn and the Heir. I was born there. And when I was four, I broke my arm there.”
Memfis looked startled. “I remember that!”
“But who remembers the face of a four-year old, especially twenty-five years later?” Karse asked. “But I knew you. I remembered you. And I knew you’d be dead as last winter’s leaves if anyone knew who you really were. So I kept the secret.” He turned. “Aven is your Water?”
“And Owyn is my Fire,” Aria added. “Fandor is going to kill my Owyn, and give my Aven to Mannon if we don’t find them.”
Karse dragged his fingers through his hair. “Shit. That’s not going to be easy to do. Unless...” He scowled. “Your Owyn wasn’t the first, you know. Fandor’s had other boys. And yeah, we think he did for some of them, but we couldn’t ever prove it. But there are survivors, and one of them will know where he might be.”
“How long will it take to find one?” Aria asked.
Karse grinned. “Not long,” he answered, and turned to Trey, who’d been standing silent by the door. “So? Where would he take them?”
Trey scowled. “If he was stupid? He’d take them home. But as much as I’d like this to be simple, he isn’t stupid. And he knows we’ll be looking for him. So he wouldn’t take them home.” His scowl deepened. “He keeps a warehouse, backs up on Tannery Row. And there’s a brothel, off Weavers Court. You said he wants to sell one to Mannon?”
Aria stared at him, her eyes wide. “Yes.”
“Then my guess is he’s at the warehouse. Tannery Row is right on the walls, and it’s near the northern gate. Gate guard there is in his pocket, too. It’d be easy to get in and out of the city without anyone noticing from there. And if he’s planning on doing for Owyn, the lime pits are close by there, too.”
“Lime?” Memfis’ voice sounded strangled.
Trey just looked at him. “I thought you knew. S’what he did to my brother. Would have done to me if I hadn’t got away from him.” He turned back to Karse. “That’s my best guess. But we should cover all three. I wouldn’t put it past him to separate them, especially if he wants Owyn for himself.”
Karse nodded, looking thoughtful. “Do you think Owyn would be at his house?”
Trey shrugged. “Fuck if I know. If we could out-think the bastard, we’d have pitched his arse into the mountain by now.”
Karse nodded. “Fine. Pick your team. You know who’s loyal to me. You take the house, and if Owyn isn’t there, I want any evidence you can find. You’ve a good eye, you know what to look for. Send Leist to the place off Weavers, tell him to bring healers, and I want everyone out of there and into a safe house, right down to the fire mice in the stove. I’m going to the warehouse.”
“I’m coming with you,” Aria said. Karse looked as if he wanted to object.
“She’s armed, Karse,” Memfis said. “She killed most of the men in the garden tonight.”
“Is that so?” Karse murmured. Then he bowed. “As you wish, my Heir.”