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AVEN TOOK HIS TURN in the bath, coming out to find Owyn finishing his meal and sharing bits with Trinket. Aria was standing at the window, looking out into the night. She was wearing the wrapped coat, and trousers that made her legs look even longer. The new clothes suited her, and Aven admired her for a moment before picking up his new clothes — trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a vest that looked oddly familiar. He dressed quickly, but as he picked up the vest, he gasped and nearly dropped it. Aria turned to look at him.
“What is it?”
“Taipa,” he stammered. “This is taipa cloth!”
“What’s taipa?” Owyn asked.
“It’s bark cloth. It’s what we make our clothes from.” Aven ran the fabric of the vest through his fingers. “This shouldn’t be here. We don’t trade taipa.”
“Like my coat,” Aria said. “They gave you something from your own people.”
Aven pulled the vest on over his shirt, running one hand over the front. “It’s... it’s good,” he said. “I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s...”
“Comforting?” Owyn supplied. “You’ve got something familiar.”
Aven nodded. “Yes. That’s it.”
“That’s probably why she did it, then. Meris, I mean. She thinks of things like that,” Owyn offered. “Since we’re all ready, what’s the plan? Are we staying here until they come for us, or are we going to go roust up the Council and tell them what we want?”
Aria looked thoughtful, then shook her head. “I will not dance to their tune. Let’s go find them and get started.”
Aven nodded and went to fetch his boots. He sat down to put them on, and jumped when something was lowered over his head from behind.
“It’s me,” Aria said. “Stay still.” She adjusted the cord which held the water gem so that it sat at the hollow of Aven’s throat. “There. Owyn, you’re next.”
“Yes, my Heir,” Owyn said, sounding so serious that Aria stopped. He grinned. “What?”
“You didn’t sound like you,” Aria said. She looped the cord over his head and adjusted it. “There.”
“Aven needs a scarf,” Owyn said. “And, do I have boots? Shoes? Something?”
“We’ll have to ask. I didn’t see anything.” Aven rose and picked up his swords and the shoulder harness that he was supposed to wear to carry them. He’d already worn them strapped to his back when he’d gone after Owyn, but it had felt unnatural — he’d never worn hook swords before. A club hanging from his belt? Of course. A knife strapped to his arm or hanging from his waist? Certainly. Swords? Swords were for dancing, and went back into their case when the dance was done.
“Something wrong?” Owyn asked.
Aven shrugged and put his carry-bag on, then slipped the harness on over his vest. “I’m not used to wearing these,” he said. “And I don’t like the idea that I’m going to get used to wearing them.”
Owyn nodded. “I understand that. I’ll be using my smoke blades to fight. I’ve never done that before. I know it’s been done. It’s part of the history I had to learn in my training. Smoke Dancers used to fight, too. But I’ve never done it.” He looked down. “I don’t know if I can. I mean, I’ve never fought like that before.” He frowned. “I don’t know if I can kill someone.”
Aven met Aria’s eyes. “Had you ever killed someone before tonight?”
She shook her head. “No. Hunted, certainly. Killed a person? No.”
“Me either,” Aven said. He turned back to Owyn, to find him staring at them.
“You... you killed someone?” Owyn whispered. He looked stunned. “For me?”
Aven nodded slowly. “Aria killed most of them,” he said. “I only got two. But I didn’t have proper weapons.”
“You did fine with what you had,” Aria assured him. “Owyn, you didn’t realize?”
“No!” Owyn gasped. “I... I didn’t. When I get... like that, I shut things out. When I panic like that, the world goes away. There’s only the fear.” He frowned. “Does that make sense?”
Aven nodded. “I think so. And you fell asleep before Memfis told me that we’d killed some of them.” He looked down at the loose harness, then fastened the strap across his chest. “I didn’t know I could kill someone. But I’d do it again to protect either of you. Or to get my parents back.”
Aria put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “We’ll find them.”
“I really can’t wait to meet them,” Owyn added. He looked around. “I don’t even know where my blades are.”
“Memfis probably has them. Do you have Trinket?” Aria asked. Owyn patted his shirt pocket. “Good, then let’s go find Memfis and finish this.”
Aven hooked his swords into the harness and followed Aria to the door. As she opened it, two guards outside the door both jumped to attention.
“We’re ready to meet with the Council,” Aria announced. “But I wish to speak to Memfis and my grandmother first. Where are they?”
One of the guards nodded. “They’re in the library, last I saw. Ah... I don’t know what I should be calling you. I don’t want to be rude.”
Aria smiled. “I’m not entirely certain myself. I’ve had several people call me My Heir, but I don’t know if that’s correct. You may call me by name until we both know better. And what’s your name?”
The guard nodded. “Very good, Lady Aria. And my name is Westir. Folks call me Wes.”
“Thank you, Wes,” Aria said. “Would you show us the way?”
Wes bowed and started down the corridor. Aria followed him, and Aven and Owyn fell in behind her, walking side by side.
“I feel unfinished,” Owyn muttered. “No shoes, no weapons? You at least look the part.”
“We’ll find you shoes, and Memfis has your weapons,” Aven answered, his voice low. “And it doesn’t matter how you look. You’re where you’re supposed to be.”
That drew a smile from Owyn, who didn’t say anything more. They turned down another corridor, one that looked familiar, and Wes led them to the library door. He knocked, then opened the door.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Meris, but Lady Aria and her Companions are here,” he said.
They heard Meris from inside the library. “Send them in!”
Meris met them halfway between the fireplace and the door, and completely ignored Aria and Aven both. She went straight to Owyn, and caught him in a fierce embrace that made Owyn squeak in surprise.
“My boy,” she crooned, and from her raspy voice, it was clear that she’d been crying. “Oh, my boy. I’m sorry. I should have listened.” She let Owyn go, backed up, and looked at him. “You weren’t hurt?”
Owyn bit his lip, then shook his head. “Not... not really. Not that Aven couldn’t fix.” He tried to smile, but it slumped and faded from his face. “It’s not your fault, Granna.”
Meris blinked, and her mouth opened slightly. “Granna?” She looked back at Memfis. “You... you didn’t tell me he calls me Granna!”
“Because that’s the first time,” Owyn said. “It’s... you’re his foster mother, really. Right? And... I’m his son. Well, going to be. So that makes you my grandmother.”
“Not going to be,” Memfis said. He came over and handed Owyn a folded bundle of paper. “Are.”
Owyn’s eyes widened, and he looked down at the bundle. His hands shook, and he couldn’t break the wax seal holding the bundle closed. He stopped, closed his eyes, then turned to Aven. “Open this?” he asked, handing him the bundle. “Read it to me? I... I can’t.”
Aven took the bundle and stepped in close to Owyn, carefully breaking the seal and unfolding the papers. He held them in one hand, and put his arm around Owyn’s shoulders. Aria crowded in on Owyn’s other side as Aven started to read the ornately calligraphed letter.
“It is the decision of the Council of Forge, speaking for the Tribe of Fire, Children of Adavar, that the petition for adoption of the foundling Owyn, slave of unclaimed bloodline, be approved,” he read. “Be it known that from this day forth, he shall be recognized as Owyn, son of Memfis, son of Trezi, of the line of Nerris, and a full member of the Tribe of Fire, with all rights, privileges, and responsibilities of such, as listed in the Codex. This adoption is so recorded in the Book of Silver, and renders all prior status null.” He looked up. “Does that mean that Owyn isn’t a slave anymore? That in their eyes, he never was?”
“That’s what it means,” Owyn said. “It means I get a fresh start.” He smiled and looked at Aven. “It means my past was written in water.” He pressed against Aven’s side. “Is there more?”
“The rest is ruffles and flourishes, to impress on you how serious this is,” Memfis said. “As if we’d do this for some silly reason. Most of that is a copy of the Tribal codex.”
Owyn looked confused. “You taught me that. I can recite that from memory.”
“What is it?” Aria asked. “Should we read it?”
“That bit about rights, privileges, and responsibilities?” Owyn answered. “That’s all listed in the Codex. It’s Fire tribe law, and some of it goes back to the beginning.”
Aven nodded. He handed the bundle back to Memfis, then hugged Owyn tightly. “Congratulations,” he said.
Owyn turned pink. “Thank you.” He frowned. “I... we have things that need to be done. Aven needs a scarf. I need shoes. And are we going to the Council? When do we have to leave?”
“Aren’t they here?” Aven asked. “I thought they were here.”
“Not anymore,” Meris answered. “We’d be up to our elbows in Councilors if they were. We’ll leave for the meeting cavern as soon as you all are ready. Shoes. Memfis, how did I forget shoes?”
“I didn’t think you had,” Memfis answered. “They’re probably still in the storeroom. And a scarf? We’ll have to see what we can do about that.”
Meris sniffed. “I can do something about that. Owyn, why don’t you and Aria go see where I forgot the shoes, and see if there’s anything else you need. Memfis, take them to the storeroom. Aven, come with me.”
For a moment, Aven hesitated. He didn’t want to let Aria or Owyn out of his sight. But they were with Memfis. And if he couldn’t trust Meris, they were in far more trouble than they thought. Aria touched his arm, and Owyn grinned at him.
“We all thinking the same thing?” Owyn asked. “No splitting up?”
Aven nodded. “Yes. Which is—”
“Completely understandable,” Meris said. “And I should have thought of that. You’ve all had a night of it. It’s been horrible for us, but for you — it must have been torturous. We can all go to the storeroom, and then to my suite for the scarf.”
Aria shook her head. “No, Grandmother. We’ll be fine.” She squeezed Aven’s arm. “We will be fine.”
Aven met her eyes and nodded, then turned to Meris. “Where are we going? Your suite, you said?”
Meris chuckled and took his arm. “You three. You’re going to move mountains. I can’t wait to meet your Earth and your Air.” She led Aven out of the library and down the hall, going back the way they’d come, and past the room where Aven, Aria and Owyn had slept. At the very end of the corridor was a set of double doors; Meris opened them and led Aven inside.
“Have a seat, my dear,” she said as she went to another door.
“Only if you want me to slice your furniture to ribbons,” Aven called after her, and heard laughter. He looked around, seeing well-worn furnishings and a large bed piled high with blankets and pillows. There was a stack of books on a table next to the bed, and a small circle of fur that unwound into a sleek, four-legged animal with a long tail. It stretched, looked up at him with big, green eyes, and made an odd, mewling sound.
“Hello,” Aven murmured. “What are you?” He moved closer to the bed. “Mother Meris, what is this?”
“What this?” Meris called back. She came out of the other room and laughed. “Oh, that’s Patience. She keeps me company.”
“And what is she?” Aven crouched to get a better look at the animal, who came closer and bumped her head against his chin. Her fur was soft, and she made a buzzing sound.
“You’ve never seen a cat before?” Meris asked. She came over and wiggled her fingers at Patience, who abandoned Aven and bounded over the bed to jump into Meris’ arms. “Usually, she has the run of the house. But she hunts, and I didn’t want her going after Owyn’s Trinket.”
“That’s a cat?” Aven rose. “I was wondering what land cats were like. My father said that whoever named water-cats had clearly never seen a land cat. And Aria told me that land cats were small. But Patience is smaller than I thought a cat would be.”
“There are larger ones,” Meris told him. She stroked the cat in her arms, then scratched behind her ears. “Patience is still young.”
Aven nodded and reached out to stroke the cat’s head, rubbing her alongside the muzzle the way he would have done to Melody. Her buzz grew louder as her eyes closed. “What’s that sound?” he asked.
“She’s purring. Cats purr when they’re happy. She likes you,” Meris said. She nodded. “Hold your arms like this, like I am.”
Aven did as she said, and froze when she poured the cat into his arms. “You just keep petting her,” Meris said, and went back into the other room. Aven looked down at Patience, who looked up at him, then rested her head on his arm and closed her eyes. He scratched her behind the ears, the way Meris had done.
“What does she hunt?” he called.
“Small birds. Fire mice. Lizards. Crumpled pieces of paper tied to a string,” Meris answered, coming back into the bedroom with an armload of multicolored scarves. “Let’s see. Which one?”
“One that will hold up to wearing,” Aven offered. Meris nodded, sorting through the colors. Occasionally, she’d look at one, then at him. She’d shake her head, and put the scarf aside, and go on to the next one.
“Blue, I think,” she murmured. “Or green. Your coloring would take both. Not red. Red would be too garish.”
“I like red,” Aven protested. She acted as if she didn’t hear him, holding a dark green scarf up to his chest. Patience batted at it, and Meris clicked her tongue at her. Aven grinned.
“I’d make the same sound at Melody when she was into something she shouldn’t be,” he said.
“It’s universal. You make that sound to pets and small children.” Meris picked out a second dark green scarf, then nodded. “These will do. They’ll both hold up well. Put Patience on the bed, and we’ll go find the others and be off.”
Aven set the cat down on the bed and stroked her again, then took the scarves from Meris and followed her back out of the bedroom and down to the library. The room was empty, and Meris scowled at the open door.
“They’re still in the storeroom,” she said. “We’ll meet them there.”
“Mother Meris, why do we need to meet the Council?” Aven asked. “Is it just for supplies? Why can’t we get those somewhere else?”
Meris looked up at him, then took his arm, leading him down the hall. “Supplies are only part of it. A minor part of it. The rest is to put a face to what we’ll be fighting for. Aria’s face, and yours, and Owyn’s. The Council needs to know that this is real, and it’s happening now. We took a chance on someone once, and it went badly.”
Aven nodded. “You mean Yana? You said the name earlier, but we don’t know who that is.”
“Was. She disappeared some twenty years ago,” Meris said. “And Memfis didn’t tell you?”
“No, Mother,” Aven answered. Meris sighed.
“He should have. I’ll tell you in the carriage on the way.”
******
IT WAS ONLY THE LURE of information that got Aria into the carriage. She perched on the edge of the middle of the bench, her wings pulled in tight to her body so that there was room next to her. Owyn sat on her right, and Aven on her left. He considered the bench before he sat, then unslung his swords from his back and held them upright between his knees, mimicking the way that Owyn held his smoke blades. Memfis and Meris faced them, and as the coach started moving, Meris cleared her throat.
“Aven tells me that you’ve told them nothing about Yana,” she said to Memfis. “Memfis, we’ll have no more of that. They need to know everything that we know.”
Memfis let out a long breath. “Yes, Meris. Yana—”
“You had your chance. Now I tell it,” Meris interrupted. “Yana was a daughter of Air. She came to Forge twenty years ago. And she bore the Diadem, and carried the gems.”
“What?” Aria gasped.
Meris nodded. “You were not the first Heir since your father died. Yana was. At least, she was the first that we knew of. The Mother chose Yana. But Yana refused to seek her Companions. She would lead the rebellion against Mannon alone, to prove herself as Heir. The Council gave her everything she asked for — men, supplies, arms. She left with that army — a good number of our young men and women. And none of them ever came back. Mannon’s forces slaughtered them. We don’t know what happened to Yana — her body was never found. There was a second, smaller rebellion in Forge the following year, once it was clear that Yana had fallen. They rose in her name, but that force failed as well.” Meris paused for a moment. “That’s the reason that Mannon destroyed the Temple. Because of Yana. Because she was the true Heir, and he knew that since she had failed, there would be others behind her.”
“So we’re going to the Council why?” Aria asked. “If they’ve failed with Yana, and failed again in Yana’s name, what makes you think that they’ll try again?”
“You’ve got two of your four Companions,” Memfis said. “And there’s the vision of the dove—”
“Which we had with Yana,” Meris interrupted. “But we were wrong to think it applied to her.”
“What’s the vision of the dove?” Aven asked. He looked at Aria. “I think I’m the only one who doesn’t know it. Aria knows. Owyn, you said you knew it, too. You said you’ve had it.”
“Yeah, I’ve had it,” Owyn admitted. “All Smoke Dancers have seen it. We just aren’t supposed to talk about it.”
“Mannon takes exception to this particular vision,” Memfis said. “Since it’s the one that tells how he’ll be overthrown. It’s the reason that smoke dancing was banned, and if someone mentions the vision where one of Mannon’s followers hears of it, well... it doesn’t end well.”
“So what is it?” Aven asked. For a moment, silence was his only answer. Then Meris nodded.
“We asked the question almost as soon as we found out what had happened in the Palace. How could we be rid of Mannon, and restore the Firstborn? So this vision has been part of our lives for longer than you’ve been alive. And when we asked, when any Smoke Dancer asked, the answer was always the same. We saw a dove, a water-cat, a flame, a flower, and a broken feather.”
Aven frowned. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Considering that there wasn’t anyone in Forge who knew what a water-cat was?” Memfis said. “It was nothing to go on for about five years. Then Yana showed up with the Diadem, and we realized that the next Firstborn was meant to be of Air. That was the dove. The rest fell into place after that.”
“Memfis didn’t trust Yana to be the right one,” Meris said. “Because she was missing the Companions, and the vision showed all four with the dove. He was right.” She smiled. “And now here you are with two. With your water-cat and your flame.”
“I didn’t make that connection until you said it, Aven,” Owyn said. “You said that Melody tells her pod you’re her boy. You were adopted by a water-cat.”
“Which sort of makes me one?” Aven said slowly. He nodded. “It makes a weird sort of sense. But you should be a fire mouse, Mouse. Not a flame.”
Owyn grinned, then looked back across the carriage. “What else is there that we don’t we know? That we should know?”
Memfis looked thoughtful. He looked at Meris, who folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. Aven went cold, and looked to his right at Aria and Owyn. Aria was frowning.
“What is it?” she demanded. “What is it that you do not want to say?”
“Nothing to do with you, my dear.” Meris hesitated, then sighed. “I have searched the Book of Silver for two years now. There are... five possibilities, I think. Yes, that’s it. Five.” She looked up, looking at Owyn. “That’s why I never said anything. I never could narrow it any further.”
Owyn went pale. “You were looking at who I was?”
“My idea,” Memfis said. “I thought you might want to know. I have the list, if you want it.”
Owyn let out a slow breath, then shook his head. “You... you didn’t have to do that,” he said softly. “I mean, I appreciate it. But you didn’t have to. Who I was doesn’t matter to me. I know who I am.” He grinned. “I’m Owyn. Son of Memfis, son of Trezi, son of... you never did tell me your grandfather’s name, you know. Of the line of Nerris. And I’m the Heir’s Fire companion. That’s who I am.”