In the Room, Felitïa removed the walls completely, opening herself up as much as she could. Those other walls were still there, at the edges of her perception, unmoving and unresponsive. A problem for another time, though. Right now, they didn’t matter.
She took stock of the various presences, made sure she was aware of them all and would become aware of any new ones. One day, she was determined to figure out the relation between their positions in the Room and their positions in reality, but again, that was a problem for another time. She needed to stay focused on the here and now.
There was Garet. His presence was bouncing around, displaying his restlessness even more than his usual physical pacing. The irony was, in the real world, he was standing still at the moment.
“Stay behind me,” she said. “Walk casually, and don’t make any strenuous movements.”
A whispered word, a tilt of her head, the flexing of three fingers on her right hand, and she cast the spell, wrapping it round the two guards on the stairs and a third person farther down the main hall as she and Garet came round the corner. Felitïa walked to the stairs and began up them, Garet right behind her.
There was no reason the guards would have stopped them. They weren’t doing anything wrong—yet—but it was best that they not be seen even heading this direction. She had made a point of openly heading to the library. If anybody asked, Maneshka would confirm she and Garet were there the whole time. If anyone went there to look for them, Maneshka would tell them that she and Garet were in the stacks and would advise them to wait. Meleng and Quilla would back her up, even offer to go find Felitïa if needed, only to get themselves “lost”. But it wasn’t likely to be necessary.
As she and Garet ascended the stairs, she extended the spell to the guards at each floor and others who passed them along the way, releasing each person from the spell as they passed out of visual and hearing range. No one noticed them.
Felitïa allowed herself a moment of pride at how little strain this was causing her. She was getting a lot better at using her telepathic abilities to augment her spellcasting. Maybe she was starting to understand her telepathy better than she realised?
They passed two Isyar who were heading down the stairs. One of them paused momentarily, and turned her head in Felitïa’s direction.
Damn. Too much self-congratulating. She needed to stay focused.
But the Isyar then continued down the stairs with her compatriot as if nothing had happened. Had the Isyar spotted her and Garet? Or had she just sensed something off, but didn’t place it?
It didn’t matter. They had a job to do and needed to stay focused on that.
They reached the top floor. This time it wasn’t Sanalog guards at the doors, but a pair of Volgs. Now the real work began.
The day had been busy and frustrating so far. The entire village and all the apartments were awash with activity as people made final preparations for the meeting to begin. Felitïa hadn’t gotten much sleep. That was partially her own fault—and Maneshka’s—but Marna had also awakened her very early to let her know Ardon had come to see her.
Ardon wanted to know her plans—at least, that was his stated reason. He seemed to have a good idea what her plans were already. She wondered how he had learnt them, although she had to admit her plans were not difficult to work out. All one needed to know was that she intended to do something to be able to guess them. It worried her that the Volgs might have made a similar guess.
Nevertheless, Felitïa was beginning to wonder just how much she could trust Ardon. She wanted to trust him, but he was clearly engaged in his own political plotting. She could trust that he wasn’t on the side of the Volgs, but beyond that, she couldn’t be sure what his goals were.
At any rate, she informed him that it would be her and Garet taking care of this. He proceeded to inform her that her mother had forbidden her from attending the meeting in any fashion. Considering she hadn’t been planning on attending anyway—at least, not today—that wasn’t a problem. However, her mother had also forbidden Meleng or Quilla from attending. Felitïa had hoped one of them—Meleng particularly—could be there just to observe and let her know what was discussed. She could get those details from Cerus, of course, but she would have preferred an additional perspective.
“What do you think is the likelihood of me being kicked out of the family?” she asked Ardon just before he left.
He smiled at her. “Your mother will rage, but that is not unusual. She will do it many times, I’m sure. But your father has a soft spot for you. You’re just about the only thing that gives him any spine. I don’t think you need to worry about being disowned yet. You could do more to ease matters, however.”
“So you said yesterday. Do you really think there’s anything I can do that would change her opinion of me?”
“The gods tell us virtually anything is possible. Nature says that we should always seek reconciliation with family, friends, and lovers with whom we’ve had conflict. There is no greater good than the bringing of people together in harmony.”
Felitïa groaned. “And what happens when people just don’t deserve that?”
Ardon nodded. “That’s the continual dilemma, isn’t it? Now then, I need to get back to your parents before your mother causes a war with the rest of the world. Be careful, today.”
“I will.” She kissed his cheek and he bowed to her, then to Maneshka. Then he was on his way.
Felitïa approached the door to the top floor of the Nabrinja, and pressed herself up against it. The guard to her left twitched his face a little and scratched at one of his horns, but otherwise both guards remained still. She relaxed her senses and spread them out, searching for other presences. There were a few, how far away, she couldn’t be sure. She also couldn’t be sure how well she could include people she couldn’t see in the spell.
Oh well, no time like the present to find out.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
She turned her head slightly and nodded at Garet. He took care drawing his sword, making no noise as he did so.
“Do you still call that thing Smasher?” she had asked him earlier when he had lovingly strapped it to his waist.
He grinned. “Yep.”
“It’s such a dumb name,” Quilla said with a groan.
“Yeah, well, I was young and dumb when I named it. But it stuck. And I like it.”
Hopefully, they wouldn’t need it, Felitïa thought, as she extended the spell with a twist of her wrist, and then opened the door. It creaked a little, but not so much she had any difficulty blocking the Volgs from hearing it. She stepped through, waited for Garet to follow, then closed the door again.
The upper storey was laid out like most of the rest of the building: a main circular hall with doors and short passages branching off it. There was no way to be sure where to start searching. Most of the doors probably led to personal quarters or barracks. She needed to find either an office or the personal quarters of someone in charge, like Agranim or Prince Castroff. Those locations would probably be the most guarded, so best to look for guards.
She could see two other Volgs in the hallway, one to her left at the edge of a branching hall, the other walking along the main hall away from her to her right. The one to her left was a guard, but the other one was dressed similarly to the way Sidlove had dressed, in black and gold robes that dipped low at the back and under the wings. It wasn’t Sidlove—Felitïa hadn’t seen him at all on Scovese—but it was possibly someone with a similar diplomatic position. And not at the meeting for some reason.
Felitïa decided to discard the idea to look for guards and to follow this Volg instead.
The Volg walked halfway around the storey, passing a few other Volgs along the way. Felitïa made quick adjustments to the spell as every new individual came or left her area of view. The only difficult part of it was the constant turning to look both behind and in front of her—and Garet’s amused expression, which threatened to throw off her focus.
The Volg stopped at a door where two guards stood at attention. Felitïa motioned to Garet to move faster and doubled her concentration on the spell, prepared for the greater effort it was about to take. It was risky, but if they could get through the doors as the Volg went through them, it might be easier than trying to hide the doors being opened again afterwards.
One of the guards opened the door and the Volg proceeded through. Felitïa darted in beside him, ducking to avoid his wings and then stepping to the side. Garet jumped in just before the door closed.
Felitïa scrambled to keep hold of the spell and adjust it for the larger number of people present—and there were quite a few Volgs in here. It was a large room, mostly unfurnished except for a single desk on one side. Agranim sat on a high stool behind the desk. He rose to his feet as soon as the Volg Felitïa had followed entered the room. Close to a dozen other Volgs in the room all snapped to attention. They and Agranim all bowed to the newcomer.
Agranim and the robed Volg started talking in their own language. It sounded like the Volg she had followed was questioning Agranim—though about what, Felitïa had no idea. She began to wish the entire Nabrinja had the same translation spell as the library.
The questioning went on for a few minutes before changing to something more akin to a discussion. Agranim produced several papers from the desk that he proceeded to show the other Volg.
The length of time holding the spell was starting to produce a strain on Felitïa. It wasn’t extreme and she was confident she could hold it for a good long while yet, but it was important she stay aware of it. She was also starting to sense impatience from Garet. That could be the greater problem if he started getting too fidgety.
The discussion went on for many more minutes, during which some of the other Volgs in the room ventured a comment or two. As it stretched on to what must have been half an hour or more, Garet’s impatience continued to increase, and the strain of the spell increased as well. Felitïa threw an angry glance at Garet in the hopes that he would stop shifting his weight back and forth. Every movement he made added to her work. He didn’t get the message.
Finally, the conversation came to an end and the Volg they had followed turned for the door. Agranim followed him and then the other Volgs. One by one, they all marched out of the room.
Felitïa waited for the guards outside the room to close the door again and then released the spell. She took several deep breaths to relax. “I’ve released the spell,” she whispered at Garet, “so stay quiet.”
“What do you think that was all about?” he asked.
“No idea. Now stay quiet. Listen at the door and signal me if you hear anything.”
He nodded, and she hurried over to the desk. She leafed through the papers Agranim had left lying there. All written in the Volg language, of course. She recognised the script from what she had seen Maneshka and Meleng translating in the library, but she couldn’t read it.
She pulled open the desk drawers. More papers—in Volganth as well, of course—a few pens and vials of ink, and even a bottle of what looked like brandy or something similar lay within.
She couldn’t take all the papers, so how could she decide which ones to take, if any? She cursed herself for not having thought of this. Maybe she should have brought Meleng along. At least he might have an idea which to look more closely at. Maneshka would have a better idea, but the inability to communicate with her as well would have just added more problems.
“It’s no good,” she whispered. “We’ll have to keep searching this floor, maybe find out where those Volgs went.” On the off chance she might end up with something useful, she grabbed several of the papers lying at the top of the pile, and stuffed them in her bag. She joined Garet by the door, and focused on her senses, on the presences in her head.
“I could just bash their heads in,” Garet said.
She scowled at him and he went quiet again.
“Whatever you do,” Cerus had said when she’d spoken to him earlier that day, “try not to cause an incident that propels us into war.” He had said it in a joking manner, but he had been serious as well.
“I’ll do my best,” she had said.
He had come to her to learn her plans for the day, but also to inquire about her activities with the Ninifins yesterday.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “They asked me not to say anything to you. Even if they hadn’t, I just hadn’t had time to say anything. But thank you for lying for me. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I just hope whatever you’re doing with them is for the best.”
“Let me just say they asked me for some help, and assuming I’m able to provide that help, I think they’ll have good reason to be grateful to me and, by extension, Arnor. Should make your job easier.”
“I hope so. Be careful with the Volgs, will you? I’ve just gotten used to having you around. You and Gabriella are the only other intelligent members of this family, and I’d hate to lose you.”
“I’ll do my best,” she repeated.
Bashing Volgs’ heads in would not be her best, and she hoped Garet realised that.
She nodded to Garet to prepare himself, recast the spell, and opened the door.