Chapter Fifteen
Ona
“Lord Matvei has promised to have a wheelchair made for you,” said Marquess Lequette as the footmen lifted Alba into the carriage. “Of course, he’s sending me the bill,” he continued with a chuckle. They were standing outside the King’s train on the shoreline where the funeral had been held the day before. The train would be returning to Albaron City in a few hours, taking their parents with it. The train that was taking Ona and Alba to Clement would be leaving from another station in nearby Fort Meyer.
“Thanks, Papi,” Alba said, leaning over to hug him.
“Now, don’t fall out,” Marquess Lequette said, laughing as he embraced her. Ona watched from a distance, quietly staying out of the way and forcing down a pang of jealousy. What she wouldn’t give for just one more hug from her father. She longed to have him toss her into the air as he used to when she was little, the both of them laughing when she wouldn’t fall back down like nature’s laws demanded. She turned away, briefly catching a sympathetic look from Marie as she did.
“It’s a long journey,” said Lady Marta, “and those soldiers will only slow them down. It will be hard enough on Alba as it is, they should get moving.”
“Right,” said the Marquess, stepping back.
Alba looked over to where a squad of soldiers from Fort Meyer was waiting to escort their carriage. “Isn’t this a bit much, Papi,” she said. “Borden doesn’t care about us, it’s the Cantos he wants.”
“That was before you killed three of his men and nearly got him in the process,” said their father. Ona thought there was a hint of pride in his voice, but Alba’s face showed just the opposite.
“Don’t remind me, Papi. I never wanted to be a killer.”
“You’re a hero, mijita, and never let anyone tell you different. No one knows where Borden is hiding or what he really wants. You are Lord Mage Vincen’s fiancé. That alone is reason enough to be cautious.” He let out a big breath and took a step back from the carriage. “Now, we’ll see you in a few months, after we’ve taken care of that traitor and things settle down.” Then – it seemed to Ona to almost be an afterthought – he looked to Alba’s side. “We’ll see both of you, of course.”
“Papi…” Alba began, looking Ona’s way, when Lady Marta interrupted.
“Oh, my!” she said, putting her hand on her cheek. “I nearly forgot something I have for Alba. Marie, kindly come with me.”
“Of - of course, my Lady,” Marie said with a curtsy, her eyes betraying her confusion.
“But you just said it yourself… they need to get moving,” their father said with a sigh.
“This will only take a moment,” said Lady Marta with a dismissive wave, not even bothering to turn around as she hurried toward the train, Marie close on her heels.
“I guess we’ll just wait here,” muttered the Marquess, shaking his head.
“I’m going to follow them,” said Ona, flying off before Alba could say anything in protest. Marie glanced curiously at Ona as she caught up with them. Ona put a finger to her lips and Marie rolled her eyes ever so slightly.
Once they boarded the train Lady Marta led Marie straight to her berth and closed the door. She turned to Marie. “Are you alone? Did Ona follow us?”
Marie looked startled by the question and Ona noticed her struggling not to look her way. “Tell her yes,” Ona said, curious why her mother would ask such a thing.
“Y – Yes, my Lady,” Marie said. “We are alone.”
“Good. That’s good,” Lady Marta said. She suddenly seemed nervous which made Ona’s curiosity shoot even higher. “I’m afraid I wanted an excuse to talk with you privately.”
“With me? My Lady?” Marie looked uncertain.
Lady Marta took a deep breath. “I have never liked mages, and I do not approve of my daughters engaging in certain activities generally associated with your lot.”
“That’s an understatement,” Ona said, and Marie’s face twitched slightly.
“Recent events have done nothing to improve my opinion,” Lady Marta continued. “Quite the opposite, in fact. They have, however, shown me that my opinion seems to hold no sway over my girls, especially Alba. She will do whatever she wants, it seems, particularly if it is something that I disapprove of.”
“My Lady…” Marie began, but Lady Marta stopped her with an upraised hand.
“No. Don’t say anything. You must take your Lady’s side, it is your duty, and if you did not then I would dismiss you without hesitation." She took another breath. “Ona is lost to me. I know it was an accident, but it was still a mage that killed her. Now, I nearly lost Alba to another mage. This is a dangerous world and I fear that things will only get worse. Borden has stirred up the hornet’s nest and they are angry. If there were riots in Albaron City then there can be trouble anywhere, even in Clement. I need you to keep Alba safe. Protect her from danger, even if that danger is herself. Can you do that?”
“If it costs me my life, my Lady," Marie said, looking at Ona’s mother with unfaltering eyes. The uncertainty she showed earlier was gone. “But… forgive me, my Lady. Isn’t that what the soldiers are for?”
Lady Marta scoffed. “How much good did they do Oriol? I watched Borden cut down halberdiers as if they weren’t even there, then run his sword through Zhulieta as casually as if he were swatting a fly.” She shook her head. “No. We must protect ourselves.” Her face grew distant. “She can’t run anymore,” she said, her voice so quiet Ona could barely hear it. “She may never run again.”
That surprised Ona. Her mother hated Alba’s running, but the pain in her voice was clear.
“Alba knows how to fight. She’s been running headlong into fights with me her entire life,” she continued, looking Marie in the eyes, her voice growing stronger. “Now she needs to learn how to fly. When trouble comes - and it will - you make her fly away. She must use her sister’s gift to save herself." Ona perked up. She had only ever heard mages refer to transferred Skills as a gift. Did her mother pay more attention to their world than she had thought?
“She won’t use it, ma’am,” Marie said. “Lady Ona’s been trying to convince her for years, but she refuses.”
Ona’s mother sighed and looked away. “Ona was a late walker, you know.”
“Ma’am?”
Lady Marta looked up. “Alba found her legs first. Alba liked to wander, but Ona was content to just lay in their crib as long as Alba was nearby. Whenever Alba crawled away she would just cry and cry until Alba came back." She chuckled and a rare smile graced her lips. “When Alba discovered her Skill it was awful. The poor nannies always knew when she would use it of course - that dreadful noise gave it away. Ona would scream and cry until they found wherever Alba had scurried off to and returned her. Eventually, Ona began flying around the nursery, looking for her sister. The nannies were beside themselves until we were able to get some Skill-suppressing runes in place. It was only then that Ona began crawling, when she couldn’t fly anymore. But she was never truly happy unless she was in the air. I suppose Alba’s the same with her running." The smile faded from her lips and her face became hard again. “You find a way. Alba’s wandering and lost again. Now it’s Ona’s turn to lead.”
“I will,” Ona whispered, though she had no idea how. She suddenly wanted to hug her mother tight and never let go, but she couldn’t. Instead, she reached out and brushed her mother’s cheek with the back of her fingers. Marie looked at the floor.
“One more thing,” Ona’s mother said, shivering slightly as Ona pulled her hand away. She opened a drawer on the side table beside her bed and pulled out a small box. “Take this,” she said, handing it to Marie.
“My Lady?”
“It is for you, call it a gift if you like, though I doubt you’ll thank me for it.”
Marie stared at the little box, uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s heavy…”
“Open it,” said Ona, drifting back over to Marie, her curiosity full to bursting.
Marie untied the string around the package and pulled the lid off. Ona leaned over Marie’s shoulder and peered inside. It looked like a very small black powder rifle. The metal barrel was black and heavy-looking, despite its small size. Instead of a shoulder rest, it ended in a curved handle that was made of beautifully polished wood. Many intricately etched runes were inscribed on the barrel, covering almost the entire surface. They were not glowing, so Ona knew that they were inactive. She noticed there was no hammer or trigger, and while Ona was by no means an expert on firearms she seemed to remember that they were kind of important.
“It’s called a mage’s gun, or more specifically a ‘Whitmore Special’,” Lady Marta said, answering the question on Marie’s face. “It was developed by those ruffians in the colonies across the narrow sea. It was supposedly designed to help mereologists defend themselves, but I’m told twins can use it too, with practice. The lack of mechanical parts means it can be small and easily hidden.”
“How do I use it, my Lady?” Marie asked uncertainly. She seemed intimidated by the hunk of iron and wood. Ona, to her surprise, was fascinated by it. She had never held a gun before and desperately wished she could feel its weight in her hands.
“The man who sold it to me says you need only to channel your essence into the runes. That’s all I know. I’m no mage, so such things are beyond me. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
“There’s no powder or ammunition,” Ona pointed out.
“Did they say anything about ammunition or powder?” Marie asked. “There’s no wadding or ramrod either.”
“I was told it doesn’t need any of that, whatever that means." She waved a dismissive hand. “It was not cheap, nor was it easy hiding the expense from the Marquess. Inform me immediately if it turns out to be nothing more than an overpriced hunk of metal with some fancy etchings.”
Ona hoped that it would work. For the merchant’s sake.
Marie looked at the weapon, her apprehension fading somewhat. She pulled the mage’s gun out of the box and tested its weight in her hand then held it close and studied the runes. “This is masterwork,” she said, almost to herself, and Ona recognized the look of a mereologist who had just found something new and exciting to study. “The inscriptions are immaculate, and these runes are… I’ve never seen some of these. They’re not Barosian, not all of them. Maybe ancient Sandarscript, but I don’t think so… They’re incredibly complex. Work such as this would cost…” She trailed off and looked at Lady Marta. “My Lady, such a gift… I cannot…”
“It is for the protection of my daughter,” said Ona’s mother in a tone that would brook no argument. “No price is too high for that. Even using a barbaric tool such as this is worth it, if it keeps her safe. Now,” she said firmly. “I believe it goes without saying that Alba is to know nothing of this, of course.”
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Marie nodded and almost, almost, looked at Ona. “Of course, ma’am.”
“Good,” said Lady Marta with a nod. She opened another drawer and pulled out a locket on a golden chain so finely crafted it looked almost like silken thread. “This is for Alba. It is the gift I forgot to give her earlier. Inside is a photograph taken the last time we were all together as a family, during Prince Domenic’s wedding. I had it copied and reduced in size so it would fit. Also not cheap, since it required the unique talents of multiple mages." Marie took the locket with a curtsy and tucked it away in her apron. “Now run along, your Lady is waiting. I shall remain here. I have no wish to watch you drive off.”
Marie curtsied and turned to leave. Ona began to drift towards the wall when her mother stopped them. “Oh, and Ona,” she said. Ona froze. “It’s bad form to have your attendants lie for you. But when you do, make certain they’re good at it, at least." She waved them away and Marie blushed deeply as she curtsied again, then hurriedly turned and exited.
Ona was flabbergasted. How had she known? She looked at her mother, who seemed to be staring right at her with the look of chastisement she was so familiar with. For a moment Ona believed that she really could see her, but then her mother sighed and sat down on the bed, suddenly looking tired and deflated. Ona turned and floated through the wall, leaving her mother to her privacy. “She’s good,” she said to Marie, who was waiting just outside looking very pale. “How are you going to hide the gun?”
Marie paled even more and Ona feared for a moment that she might faint. “I’m not sure,” she whispered, eyes wide.
“Lose the box and tuck it behind your apron for now,” Ona said, a bit of excitement welling up inside at the prospect of mischief and subterfuge. “You’ll have to rig up some sort of sheath or harness for it later. Kelso hides a few daggers in his clothes. It’s too bad he’s not here to show you how he does it.”
Marie stepped into the servant’s room and pulled the gun out, placing the box in the waste bin. “I never wanted to be a fighter,” she said as she tucked it into the waistbelt behind her apron and began adjusting the cloth to hide the extra bulk. “It seems the Master has a different plan for me.”
“Yeah,” Ona said, looking at her translucent hands. “The Master seems to have a grudge against all of us, for some reason.”
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The carriage ride was, blessedly, short. Ona was not sure Alba could have handled more than an hour or so of the bumpy, unpaved, country roads that led to Fort Meyer. They had barely gone a mile before her face was scrunched up with pain, though she did not complain. Marie knew a few pain-relieving runes and she transcribed them onto her special paper. As she channeled a bit of essence into them they began to glow green. Ona loved the many different colors of runes. It was one of the very few advantages to being a shade; the living could not see them glow.
Marie tucked the runepaper under the brace on Alba’s knee then smoothed her skirts back around it. “They’re not as good as a healer’s would be, and they’ll burn out after a while,” she said apologetically.
“It’s helping,” said Alba with a smile. “Thank you.”
Ona couldn’t stand watching Alba’s face tense up as each bump in the road sent new waves of pain through her knee, so she left the carriage and flew on ahead, making the excuse that she wanted to explore the countryside a bit. The squadron of soldiers marched along with them, half in front and the other half behind, with their young captain - a mereologist by the name of Renae - leading the way on his horse. He tipped his hat at her as she flew past. It only took another quarter-hour before she saw the short stone walls of Fort Meyer appear on the horizon. The fort sat on the cliffs overlooking the river delta as it emptied out into the Narrow Sea. The river here was wide and deep, and ships could easily sail up it as far as Savaria, making it a strategic port that had, in the days before the empire, frequently changed hands as various countries gained or lost control over it. These days it served as a valuable seaport for merchants and a base for the imperial navy.
As they drew closer the road slowly widened and the ruts and potholes began to smooth out as farmhouses began giving way to large dwellings and noble estates. The dirt transitioned into paving stones about half a mile before they reached the fort. Ona returned to the carriage, slipping through the wall and settling in beside Alba. She looked tired, her cheeks and forehead were red and covered in beads of sweat. Marie patted her face with a handkerchief, exchanging a concerned look with Ona. They passed the entrance to the fort and continued down the hill towards the riverbanks below. Here shops, warehouses, inns, eateries, and all sorts of other establishments - some of them rather less than savory - had sprung up over the years to support the bustling port. Ona couldn’t help herself and slid back out of the carriage to watch as the soldiers pushed through the crowd of dock workers and pedestrians. Spirit lights twinkled like fireflies and she even saw another shade near one of the inns, though she could not make out his twin in the crowd. People of every color, from the near-black skin of the southern continent to the pale white of the northerners, and every shade in between filled the streets. Muscled men with no shirts, their skin glistening with sweat, and high-class ladies in puffy dresses and far-too-big hats all made way before Captain Renae’s horse and his men. No one defied the Imperial army, not if they knew what was good for them.
They followed the river upstream for half an hour before reaching the train depot near the northern end of town. As they rattled to a stop near the entrance a boy ran up to open the carriage door. Marie took his hand and climbed out with more grace than Ona was accustomed to seeing from her friend.
“My Lady is injured and unable to walk,” she told the boy. “She requires the assistance of a few strong men to lift her and her chair.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the boy. His eyes settled on Marie’s mereologist’s brooch and widened. He tipped his hat and ran off. Ona watched him with a smile.
“You would think he’d be used to mages, with the port and all the soldiers and such.”
Alba chuckled from her seat in the carriage, though it was weak and tired sounding. “They probably don’t get too many high-born ladies here, I would imagine.”
The train yard was busy with workers loading and unloading cargo, but only a few other passengers milled about, eyeing the soldiers and Alba’s carriage curiously, most likely wondering who could be inside that would warrant such a fuss. Ona wondered what they would think if they knew a shade was there too. Despite having been one for over two years now, she had hardly ever been out amongst the general population and she really was curious how they felt about her kind.
A few busboys arrived to unload the carriage and Marie took charge directing them, confidently ordering them about with an air of authority Ona rarely saw from her. A short, older man in a faded and wrinkled suit rushed up to them a moment later with a few strong-looking station hands behind him. He stopped at the carriage, out of breath, and bowed to Alba.
“Lady Mage Lequette, I apologize that we were not ready to greet you when you arrived. We only received word of your coming last night, and have been busy preparing a space for you ever since.”
“It is quite alright, good sir,” replied Alba, who had composed herself admirably, though Ona could tell she was still very tired. “Please, do not bother yourself for my sake.”
“It is no bother, Lady Mage. It is our honor to receive a highborn lady such as yourself.”
Alba smiled sweetly and looked at the men behind the station master. “Are these men here to assist me out of the carriage?”
“Yes - yes, of course, my Lady,” stammered the station master. “Forgive me. You must be eager to be out of there.”
“I admit, I am quite tired from the journey,” said Alba. “I would be most grateful for the assistance.”
At the station master’s direction, the two hands began lifting Alba from the carriage under the watchful eye of a few soldiers and Marie, who made sure to protect both her Lady's injured knee and her dignity in the presence of so many men. Ona watched from a short distance back feeling helpless and a little lonely, despite the crowd.
She could have flown out as soon as we arrived. Then we would have avoided all this fuss, she thought, wondering if she or Marie would ever succeed in convincing Alba to use Ona’s gift.
“Take the Lady Mage directly to her berth,” the station master said after they had settled Alba into her seat.
Captain Renae stepped forward, having dismounted from his horse. “I must insist that my men inspect the train first, Lady Mage. It should only take a minute.”
“Of course, Captain,” Alba said, breathing heavily and looking a little pale. She smiled apologetically at the station master as several soldiers broke off and headed to the train. “I am sorry for all the trouble.”
“Not at all, Lady Mage. We are honored by your presence and are entirely at your disposal.”
The men lifted her chair as easily as if it were a piece of luggage. Alba was unable to hide a grimace as the chair was jostled about. “If it was not for my injury, my maid and I would be quite capable of managing on our own, I assure you.”
You still can, thought Ona.
“Uhmm… I hesitate to bring this up,” said the station master as he walked alongside her chair. “But– how do I say this? There are in fact three ladies joining us today, correct? Uhmm… The passengers and – and shades and…” he paused, looking distressed. Ona decided that she didn’t like this nervous little man.
“Are you referring to my sister?” Alba asked, her voice taking on a less pleasant tone. “She requires no additional accommodations if that is what you are suggesting. Shades do not take up much room." Ona laughed out loud. It was good to hear Alba making jokes.
The station master looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and nervously waved aside a spirit light that drifted too close. Of course, the light ignored him and his hand passed right through it. “Please, my Lady. I mean no offense. It’s just that... well… there are rules, you know…. We must inform the other passengers of the shade’s presence. It’s the – it’s the law and all that. Can we…?” he hesitated again, looking rather pale. He glanced around as if by some miracle he would suddenly be able to see Ona. She waved her hand in his face as he continued on, oblivious, “Will the shade comply and remain by your side?”
“We are well aware of the rules,” Marie replied stiffly, answering in Alba’s place. “Lady Ona will conduct herself accordingly. You would do well to remember that she is the daughter of Marquess Lequette, and is to be afforded the appropriate respect.”
“Of course – of course,” said the station master. “I would never dream otherwise.”
“Yet you have failed to offer her even the most basic of common courtesy,” said Marie. The miserable man cringed and fell back a few steps. It seemed Marie liked him even less than Ona did.
“It’s alright, Marie,” said Alba. “I’m sure he meant no harm.”
“As you say, my Lady,” said Marie with a bow of her head and a glare at the station master. Ona gave him a glare of her own as well as an extra gesture that she made sure Alba didn’t notice then leaned over to Marie.
“Thanks for that,” she whispered. She decided that she did not like being referred to as “the shade." Even if she was dead, she still had a name.
“Any time,” Marie whispered back, smiling. She had seen Ona’s gesture. Marie adjusted her apron with a slight wince of discomfort that made Ona wonder if the hidden gun was bothering her. She grinned. She was pretty sure the railroad had rules against carrying weapons on board as well.
The soldiers who had gone ahead stepped off the train as they approached and reported to Captain Renae that all was in order. He nodded his approval and stepped aside as the porters lifted Alba into the car. The railroad had set aside the entire first-class car for their use, which Ona felt was rather excessive since it was only the three of them and four guards, including Captain Renae, who would be using it. The rest of the soldiers would be returning to the fort after the train left.
Their berth had two beds in it, which was all they needed. Marie would be sleeping in the same room as Alba, of course, and as Alba had quite truthfully said, Ona did not need any particular accommodations of her own. Once the station hands had settled Alba in her bed Marie took her leave to see to the soldiers and make sure their luggage was handled correctly.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ona asked once they were alone.
“What?” asked Alba, adjusting her position in the bed with a grimace.
“Going to Clement.”
“It was Father’s idea, not mine,” said Alba as she tried adjusting her pillow. “I agree though. It seems like a better place to be than Albaron City right now.”
Alba winced again and shuffled about, trying to get more comfortable. “So is Marisette,” Ona said, helplessly watching her sister struggle with the bed.
“Maybe I want to see someplace new, is that such a bad thing?”
“No,” said Ona. She didn’t want to start a fight and Alba was getting defensive for some reason. “I like new places, you know that. It’ll be fun. It’s just that I’ll miss Mother and Father. We were just starting to get to know them again after so long.”
“Well, I’m not the one who took off and hid for two weeks.”
Ona pushed back the angry reply that welled up inside her. “It’s been a long day. You should rest,” she said instead, then turned to leave.
“You’re supposed to stay with me. It’s the rules.”
“I’m just going to check on Marie, I won’t go far.”
“Don’t let them catch you.”
“It’s not like anyone can see me. But I’ll be careful anyway. Get some rest.”
Alba settled down into her pillow and yawned, seemingly finally comfortable. “I’m sorry I got upset. Don’t leave me again.”
“Never again,” said Ona, her anger melting away. Alba’s pain must have been awful. “I’ll have Marie make some new runes for you. The old ones have probably burned out by now.”
“M’kay…” Alba mumbled and fell asleep.
Ona watched her for a few minutes. Alba had always been so strong and fit that it was scary seeing her this tired and weak. She knew it was because her body was working hard to heal itself and that as she recovered, her strength would eventually return, but it was still not easy to watch. Ona held up her own hands and saw Alba’s sleeping face behind them as if looking through a fog. At least Alba still had a body that could heal itself. No matter how bad things were, she still had that much, and Ona was determined to do whatever she could to ensure it stayed that way. If moving to a new province for a few months was what Alba thought she needed right now, then who was Ona to say differently? The Matvies seemed like a nice couple and it would be exciting to visit someplace new. There would be people to meet and places to explore. Summer was coming to an end and it was supposed to snow in the northern territories. She had never seen snow in person before, only in pictures. It was just too bad that she wouldn’t be able to feel it, but she supposed she couldn’t have everything, could she? Alba began to snore softly and Ona smiled, then turned and went to see how much she could torment Captain Renae before Marie intervened.
End of Part One