Crane
“She’s got a bodyguard.” Cadrin’s voice echoed through the house.
Crane almost dropped the jar she was holding at Cadrin's words. “What?” She was filled with relief that Cadrin was finally back, but this news was unexpected.
Cadrin dropped into a chair at the large wooden table where Crane was busy mixing herbs. “Lady Sheenavora has a bodyguard.”
Crane slammed the jar down. “You’ve got to be joking!”
Cadrin shook his head.
“Did you get the information you wanted?” A tiny green dragon scampered over her arm and chirped. Crane narrowed her eyes as Cadrin cleared his throat. “Cadrin, please tell me you that you got the information.”
“Not exactly…”
Crane shoved a handful of trithon leaves into the jar. “What do you mean by ‘not exactly?’ That was-“
“She’s good, Crane.”
“The bodyguard?” Crane crushed a flower in her palm and added it to the jar.
Trithon for calming, sina tendril for sterilizing, merit flower for healing and binding. Another dragon, this one purple, perched on her shoulder.
“Yeah… she, uh, had me pinned at one point.” Cadrin cleared his throat again.
Crane dropped the jar. “What?!”
“Didn’t I mention that?”
“No! Cadrin, seriously, you’ve got to be careful.” Crane bent and picked up the now-cracked jar. “And now look what you did.” She set the jar on the table and turned to get a new one.
“Sorry.” Cadrin sounded everything but, even though he tried to maintain an expression of chagrin.
Crane glared at the fractured glass of the jar and set the new one next to it. “How did you manage to get yourself pinned, Cadrin? You’re… You’re legendary at fighting.”
“Well thanks, but...”
Crane shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m just glad you escaped.”
Cadrin smirked. “I escaped through the garden tunnel.”
Crane couldn’t help but smile. “And they were panicking when they couldn’t find you?”
Cadrin smiled. “Yup.” They fell into a comfortable silence.
A stampede of tiny dragons overflowed the table as Crane worked. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Cadrin shift and knew that something was wrong. He was unsettled. She screwed the lid on her jar and turned to him.
“What’s wrong?”
Cadrin seemed to startle out of his thoughts. He let out a sigh that melted Crane’s annoyance at him. “Nothing… I’m just thinking.”
Crane placed the jar on her shelf of tinctures and picked up a small dragon who chirped for attention. The purple dragon still perched on her shoulder.
“Cadrin.” It was definitely not “nothing.” Something was obviously bothering him, but Crane knew he’d probably be too stubborn to tell anything no matter how hard she pressed. Brothers were frustrating sometimes.
In time, she told herself. Just wait.
She worked silently for a few more minutes, massaging the dragons, stocking her herb supply, labeling some remedies.
“Crane…?”
That was fast.
“Yeah?” Crane released a blue dragon and turned to Cadrin. When she saw his tired eyes and expression, she could only feel sympathy. Her brother worked himself to fatigue every day.
“What do you know about Merwyn Corlay?”
●●●
Creel
“She’s dead, Sheena. Why would you even bring that up? It’s been centuries. Merwyn was betrayed by her own general and a new family took the throne. The land split into the Tri-Kingdoms.” Creel perched on the edge of Sheena’s bed.
Sheena nodded. “I’ve just always wondered. That Lowlander made me think of it. What if he was coming for revenge because he was mad at us?”
Creel frowned as Sheena twirled in front of her mirror.
“We didn’t betray her. Her general did.”
“But our family took the throne.”
“Seven Cities knows why he did it.” Creel watched as Sheena held up a dress, seemingly more occupied with her clothes than the conversation that she herself had brought up.
“I do hope Father’s patrol finds him. I don’t feel safe in my own home!” Sheena tugged on a gown of lace and blue velvet. “Creel, can you help me with this belt?”
Creel stood, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. One moment Sheena was talking about the Lowlanders and the next she was talking about fashion. Creel didn’t understand her in the least.
“Don’t you find it sad?” Sheena asked, smoothing her dress. “The Lowlanders were Merwyn’s people and now they’re considered rebels and traitors.” Sheena burst out laughing as Creel felt her face drop in disbelief.
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“I’m kidding, Creel. I know they’re the enemy.”
Creel cinched the bejeweled belt around Sheena’s trim waist and stepped back.
“At least one of those vensgone Lowlander families didn’t take the throne.”
Sheena admired herself. “Yes…” she said absently. “Well, I’m off to the gardens. Mother and I are going to discuss possible suitors for me. You may go.”
How exciting. She’s only what, seventeen?
Creel curtsied and exited the room. Sometimes Sheena could be very strange.
●●●
Crane
Crane stared at her brother as if he’d suddenly grown a third eye. “Cadrin, she’s been dead for, like, a hundred years. For Merwyn’s sake, we only reference her when we’re exasperated- like now. 'Vensgone' isn't slang for nothing. Why are you asking that?”
Cadrin stood. “No reason. I’ve just been thinking. We’re her people, Crane. The Creator appointed her family to rule. That vensgone General Thrain killed her and broke what the Creator never intended to be broken.”
Crane frowned. “Cadrin, are you okay?”
He frowned back. “Yes. Why?”
“You’re being really weird.”
Cadrin shrugged. “Sometimes I just have deep thoughts. Is that such a crime?”
Crane opened her mouth, thought better of it, and snapped her mouth shut.
“Look, sis, I have to go. I’ve got to go help Seryn out.”
“Be careful.” Crane hugged him.
“I will. But listen, Crane.” Cadrin stepped back. “You need to be careful, too. You know that harboring dragons is treason.”
“Well it shouldn’t be! They’re hurt! And they come to me. It’s not like I purposely go and find them.”
“I know. But things are getting touchy. They know we’re getting bolder in our attacks.”
“Like walking straight into a banquet?”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll be careful, Cadrin.”
“Good. We’re so close to finding answers to some things. Keep them hidden.”
“I always do. Cadrin…” Sudden fear gripped Crane. “What’s going on?”
Cadrin shook his head and reached for the door latch. “I can’t say right now, Crane. We may be onto something, but I’ll have to check with Leader One.”
“Okay… Love you, bro.”
“Love you, sis.”
Cadrin stepped out the door, leaving Crane with her bewilderment.
Something is definitely going on. She let a dragon climb down her arm to the table. Something big.
The dragon squeaked, demanding attention. This one was hardly more than a hatchling straight from the nest, knocked out by one of “Lord” Fordenathrain Sorynna’s squadrons. He had been the only one to survive.
Crane stroked his pale underbelly. No doubt he would’ve been turned into some display or potion supposedly possessing healing qualities, if he hadn’t been killed first. Just the thought made her want to kick the table in anger. The royals hunted dragons mercilessly and with a malevolent hate. No one knew why for sure.
The royals were evil, whether anyone knew it or not.
But I know.
And it was her duty- hers and Cadrin’s and the Lowlanders’- to bring that truth and all the rest of their secrets into the light.
●●●
That night they were all there at the meeting- all fifteen ringleaders of the Lowlanders, Crane herself among them. They gathered around the huge, round table as Azaleen unrolled the map and bent their heads around it. Silver lake glitter up at them, surrounded by a tangle of roads and woods as knotted as a bramble patch.
Besan pointed to Forest Road that went around the bottom of Silver Lake from Ellsworth and up to Oncore, the royal city.
“The carriage will be easiest to intercept here,” he said. “There’s a rock overhang that someone could hide on, as well as thick brush lining the road.”
Aldrin ran a finger over the path as if envisioning himself walking there. “By our calculations, the carriage should arrive there at about two tomorrow afternoon. Someone needs to be in place by quarter to.”
“You say someone, Besan, Aldrin,” Azaleen broke in. Her auburn hair was in disarray, no doubt the result of a scouting mission earlier. “Are you implying that only one person is going?”
Besan nodded. “The mission will require only one.”
“Is that wise?” Cadrin broke in.
Ineera frowned at him. “We mustn’t carry out a full-blown attack. These missions are precise, planned, and insignificant until the time comes. They only serve as a warning to the royals that we are here and we are ready.”
“This is hardly insignificant,” Cadrin pointed out. “Ambassador Jasa is in that carriage.”
Leave it to my brother to argue, Crane silently groaned.
Several people began to talk at once. Azaleen raise a hand for silence, but no one listened or paid attention.
Crane caught Cadrin’s eye and frowned. Look what you did, she mouthed to him. He shrugged, as Crane had expected. She rolled her eyes as the arguing grew louder.
Ineera drew her knife and slammed it into the center of the map, getting everyone’s attention.
“One person is going,” she said, “to intercept Jasa and take the document she has with her. They are plans that will help us.”
Besan crossed his arms. “Thank you, Ineera.”
“And who’s going?” Cadrin asked.
Several mouths opened to speak, but Ineera shook her head.
“Crane is.”
●●●
Creel
Disturbed by her conversation with Sheena, Creel left the great hall after the evening meal and made her way to the library as Lord Forden had directed her to. She opened the large, double doors (pure ray wood, the servants gossiped, imported from the farthest reaches of the Tri-Kingdoms) and slipped in. She caught a breath in the papery smell mingling with leather and wood. It all combined into a musty, secretive scent that somehow seemed to hold answers.
If only it did.
“Creel, there you are!” Lord Forden exclaimed. He stood by one of the many staircases that wrapped around the extensive library leading to higher shelves.
“You summoned, milord?”
Forden nodded. “Jasa is arriving by carriage tomorrow afternoon. She’s coming from the west side of Silver lake.”
Creel could sense where this was going. “You think she’ll be ambushed.”
“I have my suspicions, yes.”
“Jasa can more than handle herself.”
“Oh, I know she can. But I want you to be there just in case it’s an…. Assassination attempt, shall I say? I’m meeting with my informer in just a few minutes to confirm the location.”
“What about Sheena, milord?”
“She’ll be fine for one afternoon. I believe she and her mother will be discussing dress patterns and suitors in the great hall. Terribly exciting for them, you know.”
Creel tried not to make a face. “Right.”
“My informer should be here soon. I need to meet with them privately, so stay here until I return.” Forden pointed to a chair. “I should be back shortly.”
He hurried to one end of the library, almost out of sight. She managed to catch a glimpse of someone approaching him, but with the shadows in that corner it was impossible to make out anything except a vague figure. Lord Forden said something, and they both glanced at Creel.
Why do the Lowlanders have to be so rebellious? There wouldn’t be so much secrecy if they weren’t questioning the rulers. Calling them traitors, breaking into the palace for information…
Creel strained to hear the conversation, but all she could make out was muted tones that rose and fell. Fifteen minutes passed, and finally Lord Forden made his way towards Creel. The other person had disappeared. Creel rose to her feet, excitement surging.
At last, action.
Finally, more than just a lady-in-waiting, more than just a bodyguard, she’d actually be helping. A spy, no longer watching, but acting.
“Forest Road at two,” Forden said briskly. “ A Lowlander will be stationed on a rock overhang on the left hand side. Take them out and travel with Jasa the rest of the way to Oncore.” His voice was low, and Creel shivered.
She was entrusted to do this.
I will not fail.
Creel bowed. “Yes, milord. I won’t let you down.”
“No matter what happens, do not let any harm come to Ambassador Jasa.” Forden’s words were fierce.
Creel nodded. “I understand.”
Oh, for the love of the Seven Cities don’t let me fail!
Forden was looking her up and down, eyes dark.
“You have protected my daughter well. I have confidence that you will succeed.”
Creel bowed again. “Thank you.”
“Now go. And for the sake of the Seven Cities, do not fail.”
As Creel hurried from the room, she was oddly conscious of how they had both thought the same thing.
I really hope that the sake of the Seven Cities doesn’t actually depend on my failure or victory.
But somehow, Crane had a feeling it did.