The city streets were much less crowded than they probably would have been during the day, but there were still people here and there, out on night-time errands or heading home after working late. They went past a group of teenagers who were chatting excitedly and looked like they might just be leaving some kind of party.
Jechrin obviously knew his way around the city. He led them along a maze of side streets, avoiding the people who were still out as much as possible. And fortunately, no one who saw them seemed to recognize him.
“Where exactly are we going?” Sarah asked after a while. “I thought the palace was over in that direction.”
“It is,” Jechrin replied. “But we’re not going there yet. I know what my father is capable of, and I don’t think we can do this on our own. We’re going to call for some help.”
“What do you mean? Who are we calling for help?” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. She clearly still didn’t completely trust Jechrin.
Erin saw Jechrin glance around them before he replied, as though making sure that no one would overhear them.
“Emperor Isáran,” he said quietly. “He’s the only one to ask, really. He’s the only person in Silmar who has any authority over my father. I haven’t dared to go to him before—I didn’t think he would believe me any more than anyone here in Aner did. But he cares about Kirchel enough to listen if she’s involved. And that assassination attempt has probably made him more suspicious of everyone on the Imperial Council.”
“Assassination attempt?” Sarah echoed, sounding startled.
“Some of Arturyn’s guards tried to kill him a couple of weeks ago,” Erin explained. “They were working for Noquana.” She turned back to Jechrin. “You said you thought one of the Silmarith monarchs might be involved with them. Are you saying you think it’s your father?”
“I don’t know,” Jechrin said soberly. “But there's enough of a possibility that I think I'll be able to get Emperor Isáran to take me seriously now."
A few minutes later, they came to a stop in front of a large, ornate metal gate. They seemed to be in a wealthier residential area of the city now. The street was lined with large houses surrounded by high stone walls. There were glowing lanterns set at regular intervals along the outside of the wall—like the ones outside the city, but smaller and dimmer. Each house had a gate set into the wall similar to the one in front of them. There were metal plaques engraved with house numbers over every gate, glinting in the light from the lanterns.
“Who lives here?” Erin asked.
“My aunt and uncle,” Jechrin said, placing his hand on the flat metal panel in the middle of the gate.
The gate apparently had some kind of enchantment that was able to recognize him, because there was a soft clanking sound from the latch, and the gate swung open. Jechrin went inside and beckoned for the others to follow him. The gate swung shut, apparently of its own accord, after they had gone through it.
They followed Jechrin along a path that led through the front garden and up to the house. The garden was heavily shadowed by several large trees, but the path was lit by small lamps set into the tidy flower beds that lined both sides of it.
When they were nearly to the front door, it opened, and a woman with long, pale brown hair and a pleasant face stepped out.
“Jechrin!” she said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing out this late?” She looked around curiously at their little group.
“I’m very sorry to bother you this late at night, Aunt Celora,” Jechrin said apologetically. “My friends and I were just wondering if we could use your ivareh for a few minutes. We’d use one of the palace ones, but…well, we’d rather Father didn’t listen in.”
Erin expected Celora to object to this or at least to ask more questions about what they were doing or who exactly Jechrin’s friends were. But she didn’t.
“Of course you can,” she said with a smile, stepping aside so that they could go in through the open door. “And don’t worry about the time. I’m waiting up for your Uncle Meilas anyway. He’s helping to cover the late shift at the eyathar tonight. Come in, come in....”
It was the first real Silmarith house Erin had been in, and she was a little surprised to find that it didn’t look all that different from houses back in her world, although it was quite a lot larger and fancier than the houses she was used to. But if she remembered right, Celora was Jechrin's aunt on his mother's side, which meant she was actually a princess. It made sense for a princess to live in a nicer-than-average house.
Celora led them along a hallway to the right of the entryway and then up a flight of stairs and part way down another hall. There, she pushed open one of a pair of large double doors, revealing a spacious room lined with bookshelves and containing several tables and comfortable-looking chairs.
“It’s just over there,” Celora said, gesturing toward a long table standing against the far side of the room.
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Then she paused, frowning at a smaller table next to the nearest chair, where an open book was lying underneath a glowing lamp.
“Lerand must have forgotten to put out the lamp again,” she said, shaking her head. “He keeps doing that.”
Erin felt Jechrin stiffen beside her. “Oh? Is he here? I didn’t realize....”
“Yes, he’s staying here for a few days to visit some old school friends of his,” Celora said. She had obviously noticed Jechrin’s tense expression, because she went on soothingly, “But it’s all right—you don’t have to see him. It looks like he’s gone to bed already.”
“Right…” Jechrin said uneasily.
Celora gave him an understanding smile. “Well, I’ll just leave you alone and let you make your call then. I’ll be downstairs when you’re finished, all right?”
“Thank you, Aunt Celora,” Jechrin said, returning her smile a little halfheartedly. He waited until she had left the room and closed the door behind her before he started toward the table where the ivareh was.
“Who’s Lerand?” Erin asked, following him over.
“My uncle. My mother’s youngest brother.” Jechrin's brow furrowed. “He hates my father with a passion—he always has. And he hates me by association.” He sighed. “None of my mother’s family have ever gotten along very well with my father. Most of them have left Eloril to get away from him. Aunt Celora is the only one who still lives here. Her husband is a master healer who works at the city eyathar. I guess he didn’t want to leave his job. And I think Aunt Celora has felt it was her duty to look after me since my mother died.”
Jechrin was silent for a moment, staring pensively at one of the nearby bookshelves. Then he shook his head slightly as though to clear his thoughts and turned back to the table.
“Well, let’s get back to the business at hand. We don’t have much time.”
Erin looked at the table, too. In the center of it was a kind of shallow, oval dish made from what looked like polished black stone. It was about the same size and shape as the big china platter that her grandmother always put the turkey on at Thanksgiving.
She watched with interest as Jechrin ran his finger around the rim of the dish. Then she started slightly as a column of what looked like liquid silver leapt up from the center of the black stone and hung in midair, quavering a little, like the flame on a candle.
“Katan Jyrat,” Jechrin said clearly, addressing the silvery thing. “Imperial Palace. Arturyn Sil-Isáran.”
The silver liquid leapt again, this time forming itself into a large, flat oval, rather like a mirror. But instead of their reflections, it was full of swirling silver mist. After a few seconds, the mist slowed and cleared away.
Erin’s eyes widened in surprise. A man wearing a black uniform with the imperial crest on the front was looking back at them from inside the silver oval. But it wasn’t like they were looking at a picture of him on a screen or even looking into the kind of magic mirror that Erin had seen in cartoons. It was as though a hole had opened up in the wall, and the man was actually sitting there on the other side. Except, of course, there was no hole in the wall—Erin could still see the solid wood panels behind the ivareh.
“Jechrin Sil-Talinde?” the man asked in an official sort of voice. “You want to speak with the emperor?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Jechrin said composedly.
The man raised an eyebrow. “You do realize it’s after midnight here, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I’m very sorry to have to disturb him so late. But I’m afraid it’s urgent.”
“I see….” The man didn’t look entirely convinced. “May I ask the nature of your business with the emperor?”
Jechrin hesitated briefly and then said, with much more confidence than Erin felt she could have mustered, “A friend of his is in danger and needs his help as soon as possible. Kirchel Lir-Anaurian. She saved his life not long ago and was his guest at the palace during Council.”
“I see,” the man said again, though in a slightly different tone than before. “I will inform Emperor Isáran. Please wait a moment.”
The man disappeared as the ivareh went misty again.
“Not bad,” Sarah said, looking at Jechrin with grudging respect. “I doubt any of the rest of us could have gotten through a nayladi at the imperial palace that quickly. I guess being royalty pays off.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” Jechrin said with a faint smile. “I expect that Kirchel and I are both on their list of names to pay attention to. But your attitude also makes a big difference when you're speaking to a royal nayladi. Their job is to intimidate you into admitting that you don’t have a legitimate reason to be calling whoever it is you want to talk to. Polite confidence is usually an indication that you actually have something important to say—a nayladi here told me once that it’s one of the things they’re trained to look for in callers.”
Jechrin fell silent as the ivareh began to clear again.
This time the face looking back at them was Arturyn’s. Erin recognized the room behind him as his study. Based on the location and his quick appearance, she guessed that he had still been up and working, despite the lateness of the hour. His face was pale and serious, and he frowned slightly as he glanced around and saw who was standing behind Jechrin. But when he spoke, his voice was controlled and even, as usual.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking back at Jechrin again. “The nayladi said you think Kirchel might be in danger. Why? Where is she?”
“She’s at the palace here in Eloril,” Jechrin said. “My father went to the other world and brought her back with him. Then these three followed her here.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder at where Erin and Sarah were standing. “Maybe you should explain to him what happened.”
Erin and Sarah exchanged looks.
"You tell him," Sarah said. "I think you know what's going on the best out of all of us."
Erin nodded and stepped forward. Jechrin moved aside so that she could get closer to the ivareh.
"Everything started this morning...well, I guess I should say it was a few hours ago. The three of us were out delivering some flowers, and Kirchel had stayed back at the shop...."