Meralda shook her head, remembering the fear in the Vonat’s wizard’s eyes. “I did what I did for the good of Tirlin, Mug. I wish there had been another way.”
“There was another way, mistress. The long way down. But that isn’t your way, and all things told I suppose I’m glad of it.”
“Thank you, Mug. I think.” Meralda darted barefoot back into the water closet, where she combed her hair and decided to send for her clothes, since it seemed obvious she’d not be returning home before Yvin’s commencement speech in the morning.
“Do you think the Vonats will really be scared into behaving themselves, mistress?”
Meralda shrugged at her reflection.
“I suppose that all depends on how much sway Nam has with his superiors,” she said. “And how willing they are to believe in ghosts.”
“You showed him the curseworks, though. Think he can work out a way to see them for himself, maybe show his regents they’re really there?”
“Tower believes he can make them visible, if he sees that they’re trying.”
“Well that ought to buy us fifty years or so of good behavior. Oh, look. Your boyfriend is heading this way. Looks like he has breakfast.”
Meralda pretended she hadn’t heard. In a moment, though, Kervis knocked at the door before announcing Donchen.
Meralda turned out the water closet light and hurried out, wishing her hair was dry. Donchen rolled his cart into its customary spot and smiled at Meralda.
“Good morning, Mage,” he said. “I trust you are rested?”
“As much as one can be, sleeping at one’s desk. That smells wonderful!”
“Thank you. It’s a special meal, based on an old family recipe. I had to raid the ship’s stores for some of the ingredients. I do hope you find it palatable.”
Meralda cleared her desk and scooted her chairs into their places. “I’m sure I’ll find it delicious,” she said. She watched Donchen open the cart and begin to dispense the contents, and saw him wince when he reached for a silver bowl of steaming rice.
“Are you all right?”
Donchen ginned ruefully. “I assure you, Mage, I am in perfect health.”
“Ha,” said Mug. “You limped the whole way down the hall, and you were favoring your right arm, too.”
Meralda put her hands on her hips.
“Tell me. No more obfuscations.”
Donchen nodded, and sagged, resting his left hand suddenly on the serving cart.
“There were those who were displeased with the contents of the list I gave you, Mage.” He winced. “They made the unfortunate decision to fly in the face of tradition and attack a sohata. I’m afraid they nearly spoiled our breakfast, in doing so. But I believe the Chongit sauce will prove acceptable, despite this…”
Meralda pointed to Donchen’s chair. “Sit,” she said. “At once. You were assaulted? By the ones you named?”
“Not all. Only nine. They nearly caught me by surprise. I do tend to become distracted when I’m in the kitchen.”
Meralda moved to stand beside him. He looked up at her, his customary half-smile growing. “They are no longer a threat, Mage. Not to me, nor to the Accords. You asked once what the House of Chentze intended to do with them. I believe they intended to do nothing. Better that the traitors be slain by a sohata, you see. Better for Chentze. Better for the families of the conspirators. Not so good for me, perhaps, but as you can see, I have survived.”
The man just fought and possibly just killed nine people, thought Meralda. She remembered her own moment, on the stair.
And then he finished making breakfast.
Meralda put her hand on his.
“The sauce will not retain its subtlety, if it gets cold,” said Donchen. “And we both have a very long day ahead.”
Meralda squeezed his hand, and finished setting her makeshift table.
Donchen dozed in his chair.
Meralda pretended to fuss over her nearly empty plate and watched him sleep.
“The captain is heading up the stairs, mistress,” whispered Mug.
Meralda sighed and rose. “Coming to see me, I imagine.”
“Doubtlessly.” A knock sounded at the doors.
Meralda moved quickly to them. “Come in, Captain,” she said.
The captain tramped inside. “I suppose you’ve heard,” he said. “Something scared the whole Vonat wing nearly back to Vonath last night. Lights in the Tower, too. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
Meralda feigned an innocent smile. “Not a thing, Captain.”
“Good for you, Mage. Oh, the king sends his regards. And a message. ‘Well done.’ He asked me to tell you that in person. But of course you don’t know what it means.”
“I certainly don’t.”
The captain nodded. “Of course not. By the way. The Vonats have locked their best wizard in a closet. He keeps ranting about phantoms and curses and swatting at thin air. Claims two wingless black crows are following him. Wingless crows, ha.” The captain’s weary face split into a grin. “Never liked that man.”
“I only met him once,” said Meralda. “He seemed a bit unstable.”
The captain slapped his knee. “Well. I’ve delivered my message. I’m off. Probably won’t see you again before commencement, Mage.” He stuck out his hand. “But I want you to know this, Meralda Ovis. All those things you haven’t done, and don’t know anything about? Good work. Damned good work.”
Meralda took his hand and shook it.
“Mage.”
“Captain.”
He let go of her hand, and marched out, still grinning.
Kervis stuck his head in the door. “Mage?”
“Yes, Kervis?”
“This might not be a good time, but-well, Tervis and I-we got you something. For being so nice, and all.”
The Bellringer’s face flushed suddenly crimson.
Meralda laughed. “Well, come in and let me see it! You too, Tervis. I see your shadow.”
The Bellringers marched in, their eyes on the floor.
Kervis held a small box wrapped in white paper in his hand.
“It’s not much,” said Tervis.
“But we hope you like it,” finished Kervis.
Meralda took the box, and unwrapped it carefully. Inside was a silver necklace, and on it was a single silver leaf, that shone in the light.
“We thought it would remind you of Mr. Mug, and the time we fought the rope men,” said Kervis. “You saved us all that day, Mage. This is our way of saying we’ll never forget.”
Tears welled up in Meralda’s eyes. She blinked them back and fastened the necklace around her neck.
“Thank you. Thank you both,” she said. “I’ll treasure it always.”
The Bellringers smiled and Kervis grabbed his brother’s sleeve and they hurried back out the door.
“Mistress!” cried Mug. “Mistress, come quick!”
Donchen stirred, suddenly alert, and leapt to his feet.
Meralda hurried to his side. “Mug, what is it?” She searched the glass for any signs of Vonats in the Tower, or on the stair.
“My eye! My new eye!” Mug waved an eye bud in front of the glass. “It’s opened! And it’s yellow!”
Meralda laughed. Donchen relaxed, and leaned against her, his arm going around her waist.
“I wished for a yellow eye and I got one,” said Mug. “I’d say your spring has some magic left after all, Donchen.”
“Perhaps it does,” he said. “I once drank from it myself.”
“What did you wish for?” asked Mug.
Donchen hugged Meralda tight. “Only those things I seem to have found.”
“Mistress,” said Mug, gazing at her with his new yellow eye. “You look…mage-like.”
Meralda frowned. Her deep blue robes hung shapeless about her. The wool was hot and she was sure it was making her neck turn red and itchy. The sleeves were too long, despite her instructions to the royal seamstress that they be shortened and tradition be hanged.
I’m almost glad Donchen isn’t here to see me in this wretched thing, she thought. Especially if I break out in hives because of it.