Novels2Search

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Katanes, Baron's Palace

"Me?" Arta asked, trying to ignore her heart hammering in her chest. "What do you want with me? I'm a fosterling; a nobody." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Do you think you can hold me for ransom? I promise you, if you think you'll be able to get me out of this palace that easily, you're mistaken."

"I'm not interested in the Baron's money," the mysterious woman said, her tone disdainful. She stood and walked towards Arta's bed, hands clasped behind her back; the gesture left her cloak open, and allowed Arta to get a good look for the first time at what she wore under it – a plain black dress that looked almost like a holy sister's habit, save that it didn't bear the emblem of any convent Arta had ever heard of, or indeed, any emblem at all.

"Are you a nun?" Arta blurted out the question without thinking, then mentally kicked herself. Whoever this person was, the idea that she was a holy sister of any convent seemed absurd. But the woman only smiled – she actually seemed amused.

"Not anymore," she said. "I used to be, though. The sisters saw fit to kick me out after I did various things I shouldn't have. An old story, and not very interesting." Her eyes glinted under her hood. "But speaking of sisters, I saw you throw yourself in the way of an energy beam to protect yours earlier today. I'm impressed; in my experience, lots of people talk a very grand game about how they would lay down their lives for their loved ones, but fewer are actually willing to go through with it. There is a certain nobility in that which I can respect."

Arta's mind suddenly flashed back to the assassination attempt – and to the figure she'd thought she'd seen watching from a distance. "That was you," she breathed. "You were there." A sudden feeling of horror seized her. "You were the one, weren't you? The one who hired the assassins? And now you've come to finish the job!" She stood up in her bed and balled her fists; maybe she didn't have her sword, and maybe no one could hear her call for help, but for the Lord's sake she was not going down as a passive victim.

Her visitor merely laughed in genuine amusement. "Of course, I'm not," she said. "I never wanted any of you dead; I was just curious about what you'd do. The fools were under orders not to actually try to kill you, and if they'd done it by mistake, I'm afraid I'd have been very cross with them."

"So, you did hire them!" Arta said, and without thinking she lunged forward, trying to grab the strange woman by the arm. Instead, she merely found herself stumbling off the bed into the middle of an empty room, the sound of soft laughter echoing from behind her. She spun to see her visitor now standing by her bedside – how was it possible? When had she moved?

"You're not going to catch me that way," the woman said. "So, let's stop bothering with this juvenile foolishness and try to accomplish something constructive. Like I said, I'm here to talk about you. Tell me, Arta ast Katanes – are you satisfied with your life?"

The sudden change of topic caught Arta off guard and set her mind reeling. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm the foster child of a noble family – the most important family on this planet. I have everything I want. What are you playing at?"

The woman waved a hand dismissively. "A trite answer," she said. "A child's answer. And here I was thinking I was speaking to someone who was almost an adult. Clearly, I was mistaken. But you don't mean it, do you? You love your foster family – your father, your sister- but you're not content to stay here, are you? You want to leave this backwater place, have adventures, make a name for yourself that no one will ever forget. That's why you stay up late and night practicing, that's why you're determined to keep up with Karani, to be the serious one when she's flighty. You want to achieve."

Arta's mouth went dry. "How do you know that?" she whispered.

The woman shrugged. "I was much the same, at your age," she said. "The circumstances weren't quite the same, but… well, let's just say that we have more in common than you realize. And that's why I wanted to meet you. I want to help you, Arta."

"Help me?" Arta asked. "Help me do what?"

"What do you want to do?" the woman asked. "I'm not choosy." Her eyes glinted beneath her hood. "Of course, there are certain things I might be better suited to helping you with than others. You saw how I moved, just now. Surely, you've been wondering how I evaded capture by Katanes's fine officers of the law earlier today, or how I got into this palace while security was all abuzz after your encounter earlier. Tell me, Arta, have you ever done things that you can't explain? Have you wondered what they mean?"

"No, I – wait," Arta said. "Today. The assassins. I really did block that beam, didn't I? I wasn't imagining it after all…" her voice trailed off as she considered the implications of that.

"You did," the woman said, nodding. "I was impressed. And you can do more." She held out her hand. "There are many powers in this universe beyond the merely technological. Our ignorant ancestors called them magic; there are all manner of technical terms bandied about nowadays. Adept is the most common, but the name you call it doesn't matter. You have potential. Let me help you reach it. You want to leave Katanes, become a great knight, be remembered forever? I can help you with that too. What do you say?"

Arta regarded the outstretched hand for a long moment, desire battling against fear inside her heart, and then her gaze hardened. "I think I'd rather find my way on my own, thank you," she said. "Sorry, but for some reason I don't feel like trusting the person who broke into my home and put a hit on my family."

She expected her visitor to be angry, but instead the woman merely shrugged. "Fair enough; I won't force you. Of course, I don't want you telling anyone about this little chat either; it's surprisingly hard to sneak about when people are looking for you specifically." She raised a hand in front of Arta's face. "Sleep, girl. Sleep, and when you wake, you'll remember our conversation only as a dream. But I promise you that I'll see you again one day."

A sudden wave of drowsiness swept over Arta; she struggled to keep her eyes open, but the weight of her lids was too much. She gave a great yawn and then slid to the floor, and darkness closed in over her.

/

The cloaked woman regarded Arta ast Katanes as she lay slumped on the floor of her bedroom, then reached up slowly and pulled back her hood, shaking out her long black hair as she did so. Her skin was an almost shocking white, the color of someone who had taken paths that went far from the light of any star – a sharp contrast to Arta's own rich tan. In all other respects, however, their features were similar enough to be obvious to any observer.

Sighing, the woman bent down and with a slight effort will drew energy into her limbs to give her strength; she effortlessly lifted Arta from the floor and placed her in her bed, taking a moment to arrange her neatly. Looking down at the girl's face, she paused for a long moment then, almost tenderly, brushed a strand of dark hair away from her face.

For a brief, intense moment the woman felt a stab of jealousy for the other girl, the one who was preparing for bed in the next room over, entirely oblivious thanks to the sound-dampening field the visitor had set up. She had been the one to be there for Arta's childhood, to see her grow up, to teach her and confide in her, to fight with her and make up, to be her sister. It had been only a year ago that the visitor had even found Arta and confirmed who she was – and who she might be.

She shook her head. She had studied with the holy sisters, even if she'd left that path behind a long time ago; jealousy was an unworthy emotion, beneath her. She had her eyes on other, more important things. But she was still human, for all of that. "I should have known I wouldn't be good at this," she said to the sleeping girl. "I never was exactly what they call a people person. But someday I'll make you realize I'm not your enemy, I promise." Almost on impulse, she bent over the bed and kissed Arta's forehead lightly. "I'll see you again soon," she whispered. "Though you may not see me."

Standing, she pulled her hood back over her head and focused her will as they'd taught her in the convent, bending the perceptions of anyone nearby so that if they weren't looking for her specifically, they wouldn't see her. Another effort of will, and she wrapped herself in a field that would prevent recording devices from picking her up. She wasn't invisible, not really, but for her purposes now it was close enough. No one knew she was here.

"Goodbye, Artakane," she said softly. "Until next time."

Tapping a small device on her wrist to deactivate her dampening field, she turned and left the bedroom, passing a handful of servants and guards in the halls who paid her no mind as she left the Baron's palace behind.

A few hours later, a small starship lifted off from Tannen City and left Katanes behind… for now.

/

The next morning, Arta found herself walking in a haze; though she'd slept soundly last night, for some reason she couldn't put her finger on she didn't feel rested at all, and she kept dwelling on snatches of half-remembered dream that she was certain was important for reasons she couldn't articulate.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

She barely made any comments at breakfast, ignoring Karani's loud and increasingly outlandish speculation about who was behind yesterday's attack, and was sufficiently distracted that she was beaten soundly by a training mech during practice. Finally, still rubbing her eyes and wincing from her bruises, she went to the stables.

Located in one of the palace towers, the stables didn't house horses, as similar structures might once have on Lost Terra. Instead, they housed creatures that were much larger, and which required the open sky and plenty of room to take off and land, for which reason the Baron sometimes referred to them half-seriously as the aviary.

Arta stepped into the large, half-open room and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She was greeted by a cacophony of deafening squawks and shrieks, and though she knew the creatures that lived here well, she still found them to be a majestic sight. Each was close to fifteen feet long from the tip of their slender tails to their break-like mouths; they had a pair of clawed hind legs and immense wings, with clawed hands at the central joint, for forelimbs. These could be used for flight, or folded under them for walking, as most of them did when landed in the stable. Their bodies were covered in scales that were mostly white, but each creature was covered in a particular pattern of brightly-colored stripes along their back as well – the pattern was as unique to each as a fingerprint and gave each member of the flock a distinctive appearance.

The creatures were called izdakan, but Arta generally thought of them by their more common name – Katanain Dragons. Highly intelligent, fiercely loyal, and surprisingly easy to train, they had served as mounts for human riders ever since humanity's first arrival on Katanes and riding them was a skill that the knights and lords of the Baron's house and valued for generations.

Arta walked into the center of the chamber, dressed in a sturdy green bodysuit and carrying a helmet with a transparent visor under one arm. Tilting her head back, she gave a piercing, whistling call and waited for a moment before a dragon with a particularly dramatic pattern of blue and red stripes along its back rustled over towards her, talons clicking on the floor. The creature bent down and sniffed her hair, then began nuzzling her face with its beak; Arta smiled broadly and scratched it under the chin.

"Hi there, Ezi," she said. "Did you miss me? Sorry I haven't been around much lately; a lot's been going on. Would you like to fly today? I would."

Ezi squawked happily and Arta waved a couple of the keepers who'd been waiting near the walls over to help her put on the dragon's saddle. Arta had been taught to fly an izdakan since she was a child, and though she was familiar with many of the creatures her foster-father kept, Ezi was her favorite. Hunkering down, the izdakan allowed the keepers to fit her saddle into place; when they were done, one of them handed Arta a piece of meat that she tossed into Ezi's mouth. The izdakan swallowed it down greedily, then licked her scaled lips with her long, thin tongue.

Arta climbed into the saddle with practiced ease, then jammed her riding helmet down to protect her face from any debris – or insects – that might be waiting in the sky. Bending down, she patted Ezi's neck and whispered the familiar command to her. The dragon gave a low thrum as she walked towards the nearest edge of the chamber, then spread her great wings and launched herself into the sky.

Flying was freedom, Arta thought – no family, no expectations, no worries for the future, just herself, her dragon and the wind. When Ezi first leaped into the air she fell towards the ground with wings pulled tight along her body; once, Arta had found the sensation frightening, but now she knew better and thought it was exhilarating. The dragon dropped towards the rocky ground and then, just when it seemed she was about to hit, her wings snapped out to their full span, casting everything below her into shadow. The wind caught them, and then she was rising again, soaring through the skies with as much grace and power as any bird of prey. Arta threw back her head and whooped under her helmet.

They didn't make for Tannen City; Arta had no desire to deal with people right now, and certainly not to explain her presence to the city's air traffic controllers. Instead, they flew across the mountains to the west, suspended between the jagged peaks below and the wisps of cloud above. For a long while, it seemed, nothing mattered but this. Arta knew better than to remove her helmet in midair – the last time she'd done such a thing, she'd been nine, and had swallowed and insect for her trouble; Karani had teased her about it for months – but still, the temptation to feel the wind on her bare face was a powerful temptation.

Finally, Arta saw a wide shelf along the sides of one of the mountains beneath them and pointed at it. Ezi began to descend in circles and finally came to land along the flat expanse of rock, gouging long furrows in it with her claws as she came to a stop. Arta slid from her back and walked to the edge of the shelf, where she removed her helmet. The wind caught her hair and blew it back in a long stream as she gazed out over the valley below them and the mountains stretching out as far as her eye could see. There were no people here, no assassins or guildmasters, no well-meaning but overbearing foster-sisters, no… whatever it was in her dream last night that still gnawed on the edge of her thoughts. The only thing in sight was the majesty of Katanes's nature. The plants in the valley below were a vibrant blue, untouched by human hand or cultivation. The mountains were grey and silver, their immense peaks reaching for the golden sky above. Arta sat on the edge of the shelf and let her legs dangle over the side; closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and simply felt the wind as it rustled through her hair. Something leathery brushed the side of her face, and she reached up with one hand and scratched the underside of Ezi's long chin. How long girl and izdakan sat there, neither could say.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice suddenly said from behind them. Arta's eyes snapped open and she jumped to her feat with an ease honed by training, spinning towards the sound. She saw a man standing on the far end of the shelf, where she was certain no man had been earlier. He was tall, and his skin was darker than her own, though his hair and short beard were both solid white; his age was hard to guess, though from his hair alone she thought he seemed to be an older man. He wore a plain black coat, buttoned up the front, and his hands were in his pockets.

"How did you get here?" Arta asked warily, some niggling part of her mind saying that this was not the first such conversation she'd had in the last couple of days, though she had no idea when the other could have been.

If the man was offended, he didn't show it; instead, he merely smiled. "Now that is an interesting question," he said, "and much wiser people than I have spent many years trying to answer it. Of course, if you mean how did I, personally, get here, to this place at this time, the answer is simple – I climbed. I do enjoy experiencing the natural world, something I think we have in common. And I must admit, I've seen many worlds in my life, but yours is indeed a rather splendid one."

"You climbed," Arta said slowly. "Were you camping somewhere around here? You don't seem like the sort of person who lives alone in the middle of nowhere."

"My ship is landed not far from here, actually," he said. "I'm due to take employment on this lovely planet in a few days, and I thought I'd arrive early and see a bit of it; I have to say, it's not disappointed me." He walked forward and held out a hand; Ezi bent down and sniffed it carefully, then allowed him to pat her familiarly. That, Arta found surprising; domestic izdakan, so long as they were well fed, were not particularly aggressive creatures, but even so, she hadn't seen Ezi take to a stranger so quickly. She wondered again who this man was.

"Most people call me the Professor," the man said, as if he'd been reading her thoughts. "You can call me Shiran if you like; I don't mind. I'm a historian and philosopher, among other things. Presently I've been hired to serve as an advanced tutor by a certain wealthy man on Katanes." He continued scratching Ezi's snout as he turned his gaze directly at Arta. "And you, if I'm not mistaken, are Mistress Arta ast Katanes, the Baron's foster daughter."

"How did you…" Arta asked, certain that shock was written across her face; the Professor only smiled.

"Simple, really," he said. "You flew here on an izdakan; that's a skill few people outside of the aristocracy bother with. You're wearing the colors of the Baron's household. You're young enough to be one of his daughters, and you're not tall enough to be the elder; therefore, I conclude you must be the younger. Are my conclusions in error?"

"No… no, they're not." Suddenly remembering her manners, Arta bowed at the waist. "I am Arta ast Katanes; an honor to meet you, Professor Shiran."

"The honor is mine," Shiran said, still smiling. "But there's no need to be so formal; we're going to be seeing rather a lot of each other, after all. It is your father who hired me."

Arta's eyes widened as she struggled to absorb that information. "So," she finally managed to say, "are you supposed to teach Karani, or me? And what are you going to teach? We've both had tutors before."

Shiran chuckled. "I'm sure you have," he said. "But your father felt that both of you were ready for a more advanced course of study, something fit for leaders… or knights," he added, regarding her more intently with that gaze that seemed to know too much. "Matters of history, politics, religion… the Dozen Stars is at a tipping point now, as surely you must have realized by now. A throne empty for fifteen years… piracy… dukes threatening to tear the kingdom apart. You're both going to come of age at a very difficult time, and he wants you to be prepared for it. We knew each other a while back – I was attached to the Queen's court for a time, and we met there. I was hoping to write a book on her reign, but, well… things didn't end as well as they might have. Not long ago, he contacted me again, and I decided to take him up on his offer. It's been too long since I've had students."

He turned and walked to the edge of the shelf, staring out over the valley as Arta herself had done. Finally, he spoke. "It's fortuitous that we met today," he said. "Do you believe in fate, Arta?"

"Fate?" Arta asked. "I guess I hadn't really thought about it. The priests and holy sisters say the Lord knows everything, even what hasn't happened yet. I guess that's like fate. But I don't think we're just pieces being moved around on a gameboard, without any say in the matter – I think we make our own choices, even if someone already knows what they'll be. Does that make sense?"

The Professor chuckled. "I think it's a more thoughtful answer than many people older and allegedly wiser than you might give. Sometimes I'm not sure what I believe, but I do think that sometimes, the universe acts to bring people and places together in ways that are important, even if people don't see it at the time. And I don't think our meeting today was a coincidence." He looked back at Arta. "It was a pleasure meeting you today, child. Now, I must recommend that you go home; I'm sure your father and sister are worried about you, especially since, if I'm not mistaken, there was an attempt on all your lives yesterday. Going off on your own like this might not have been the smartest decision.

Arta hadn't considered that, and suddenly blushed deeply. "They must be worried sick," she murmured under her breath, and quickly scrambled back onto Ezi's saddle. "You're right; I'd better get back. But it was good to meet you, Professor!"

"I'll be arriving to take up my position in a few days," he called up to her. "Until then, be safe."

"And you!" Arta called back before jamming her helmet back into place, and then Ezi had leaped into the air, leaving the shelf – and the Professor – behind.