His gaze went to the woman. “As Mistress Crail knows,” he
added, watching through narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” the man
went on. “The guards were really most assiduous in doing their duty. I’m afraid
I finally had to send them on a temporary slumber. You did well, my young
mage,” he added, waving at Kevriac, though he hadn’t taken his eyes from the
woman. “So, Crail, breaking your vows?”
“I was hired as a protector—”
“Protector,” the man said contemptuously. “Before you
implicate yourself in any more lies, you ought to know that I have been here
since you were first contacted. The High Mage suspected you might want to take
this little island paradise for yourself. Haven’t you been somewhat greedy?”
“If you’ve been here, you’ve interfered as well,” the woman
said.
The man shook his head. “I merely permitted the local
plotters to convince themselves I was part of their plans, but I have done
nothing overt. And I continue to do nothing overt. The inhabitants of this
principality are going about solving their own problems, as they ought. Step
aside—”
“No you don’t!” the woman shouted, and her hands jerked up—
But before she could perform whatever spell she’d had ready,
Nan’s right hand whipped out of her pocket and she sent a funny-looking red
cloud straight into the Mistress Crail’s eyes.
The woman shrieked, a terrible sound that died away as she
slowly crumpled. The man murmured a spell over her, then straightened up.
“She’ll do, until we can take her back for judgment,” he
said, wiping his hands. “Now, go on and do what you came to do.”
Joe turned to Nan, who nodded, her face as pale as her
apron.
Together they started up the last stairway, which was wide
and circular, carved out of marble. Kevriac and Elan closed in behind them.
The top room was very bare, except for a bed and a chair. Seated
on the chair, his wrists and ankles bound securely to the carved arms and legs,
was a tall, thin young man with a face into which premature lines had been
carved. His long brown hair was simply tied back, and his clothes were as plain
as one of the merchants’ down below.
Joe licked his lips, bracing for some kind of big,
spectacular spell—probably something painful, if what had gone on below was any
indicator.
But the ending was the simplest after all.
For a moment it seemed as if they walked through water. Joe
pushed his hands out as Nan did the same. The air glittered slightly around
them—and then the glitter was gone, along with that watery feeling.
The young man lifted his head, and blinked. He had brown
eyes just like Joe’s own. Prince Troial looked slowly around the room as if he
did not recognize it.
Joe heard a quiet sob, and Elan dashed forward, knelt, and
began to work at the knots confining the prince to the chair. The brown gaze
lifted to Joe’s face, weary, faintly puzzled, then shifted, uncomprehending, to
Nan, then to Kevriac, who had dropped to his knees, head bowed.
One hand freed, Prince Troial reached to touch Elan’s hair. “I
know you,” he murmured. “You have a kind face.”
Elan covered her face with her hands and started to cry.
Prince Troial looked up, his confusion plain. “Who are you
all? Where is my good tutor, Master Todan? Where is my mother?”
Kevriac was still as death, and Nan rubbed the back of her
head as though she had a killer headache.
Joe took a deep breath. “Boy oh boy,” he said. “Have we got
a lot to tell you!”
While Joe was talking to the prince, Nan saw the man with
the star-stone ring come in. He stayed in the background, but made sure that
Todan and his gang couldn’t do anything to Prince Troial—or anyone else—when
they came rushing in a few minutes later.
After that, for a while everything went completely crazy. Todan
tried to get the guards to arrest everyone, but half the guards, seeing the
prince on his feet and sane, threw down their weapons—or turned on Todan’s
guys.
Then the shouting started, with aristocrats and commanders
and everyone else all crowding into the tower and accusing each other.
Elan touched Joe and Nan and Kevriac on the shoulder and led
them out. Nan’s last glance back showed that magician standing next to the
prince, who was trying to listen to everyone at once, despite his looking pale
and shaky.
They pushed their way through the knots of people, and went
back downstairs to one of the pretty rooms. The quiet seemed loud in Nan’s ears,
which were still ringing from the bang on the head Olucar had given her by
knocking her down.
“We’ll wait here,” Elan said, drying her eyes. “He’ll be
wanting us when they get sorted out a bit, I think. Until then, all of you look
like you could do with a good meal and some rest.”
Nan got her dry tongue to move. “Kitchen’s closed,” she
said.
Elan grinned. “We have our own kitchen up here. You don’t
think they trusted anyone downstairs, do you? I’ll be right back. Go ahead and
sit anywhere you want. I don’t think he’s going to mind.”
They collapsed onto satin and velvet-covered chairs as if
someone had pulled the stuffing out of them. Nan looked at the two boys,
thinking:
No more potatoes. No more Ilda
. The giggles came back, a
constant stream of snickers like bubbles in water, impossible to stem.
Elan returned with a loaded tray of delicacies and all three
kids pounced, gobbling like pigs. When Nan couldn’t eat any more, she fell back
onto the couch she’d chosen, leaned back her head—and the next thing she knew,
sunlight streamed in the window, and Elan was gone, but a whole lot of other
people had come in.
Nan sat up. Joe sat on the next couch over, rubbing his
tousled head. Then Kevriac slid off his couch onto his knees. Nan looked up,
one hand touching gently at the egg on the back of her skull, and watched the
fabulously dressed people part and then bow, like grass cut by a strong breeze.
The prince came in. He still looked tired, but his eyes were
direct, knowing,
here
. He smiled broadly. Then, to Nan’s surprise, he
dropped on one knee before them, and said, “Here are the three who saved my
life.”
Kevriac bowed his head, and Joe’s face reddened.
Nan spotted Elan peering over someone’s shoulder. “Not
three,” she said. “Elan there—she’s been a servant for at least a couple of
years, just in case this plan worked. And did you know about Blackeye? And
Warron? And Noss? They were all part of the plan, just like us. All of them.”
“Then we shall have them up here and reward them as well,”
the prince said, rising. “For now, I want you to speak, for I must hear about
what has happened in my principality while I was imprisoned in the dream-world.
Everyone who wishes to speak shall be heard, from high to low degree. And then
Nitre, Todan, Olucar, Lorjee, and the others shall be permitted their turn—yet
I feel that they will have much to answer to.”
So each of the kids talked, while soberly dressed scribes
wrote down their words. Then they were free.
o0o
For three days Nan stayed in the palace as the prince’s
guest. For two of those days all Nan could do was sleep and eat. The boys had
disappeared somewhere else. When she finally felt normal again, Taliath came to
visit her, and gleefully told her about the household upsets.
“And here’s the best,” she said, pausing to laugh. “The
prince has freed all the bond servants, good and bad, saying that the true word
for such was slaves, and he would have none of it on his islands. They were
given the choice of staying as paid servants, or else receiving the equivalent
of half-a-year’s wages so that they could seek some other kind of work.”
“Did anyone leave?”
“Well, Ilda was gone by the end of a day—after just about
every girl from your dorm came up to her and described, in loving detail, just
what they thought of her. Giula also received like treatment, but she’s elected
to stay, whimpering about how she just wants to be friends.”
“Probably can’t do anything else,” Nan said, thinking of
those long boring days of peeling and chopping vegetables. “Or else she’s too
lazy to try.”
“Cook is now in charge of appointing her kitchen help, not
Olucar, and Hortia was made head pastry girl this morning.”
“Ugh!”
“Crabby as she is, she is also apparently a genius with
food. But at least she won’t have power over anyone anymore,” Taliath finished,
dusting her hands on her knees.
“Good,” Nan said. “Where are the boys?”
“They went down yesterday to join Blackeye—who has her
audience with the prince today,” Taliath said. “Noss, too. If you want to be there,
you’d better get dressed and come.”
Not long after, the girls crowded into the throne room,
which was all blue and pink marble. Blackeye was there, almost unfamiliar in a
nice new tunic and trousers, with her hair neatly braided back. She even had shoes
on, though she walked as if someone had put eggs in them. Next to her was a
short boy that Nan had never seen before.
She saw Joe, who beckoned. “That’s Noss.” He pointed to the
boy. “And there’s Imic, who helped get Alitra.” He pointed to another kid.
“Where’s Alitra?” Nan whispered back.
“See that lady standing beside the prince’s throne? That’s
Alitra. She’s almost as good with a sword as Warron,” he added. “The others
said she disarmed two of the guards at the Lorjee house before anyone else
could win one fight.”
Nan whistled, staring at the tall, bony young woman with the
braid of dark hair wound round her head. She wasn’t pretty, but she looked
intelligent—and very capable.
“Next to her is Liav, who helped us out,” Joe whispered.
“Sh!” Nan whispered back, for the prince had begun to speak.
“It appears that rewarding you for what you have done for me
will be no simple task,” he said. “Have you any desires? Speak freely.”
“I’d like title to my ship,” Blackeye said. “Though I’m not
yet of legal age, I want to be captain, free and clear, so we can start on our
voyages.”
“Granted.”
“Other than that, I think you should listen to Noss, and
One-Eye, and the others. I promised if we set you free I’d make you do
something about those Work Houses, but I think they can tell you better than I
can.”
And Noss did, with a wealth of detail that made Nan laugh at
times. Then all the kids crowded forward, everyone wanting to speak, until the
prince raised his hands, laughing. “It is clear that this will take some time to
sort out, but I promise the time will be taken, and you will have a voice in
the decisions made. Until then, you are invited to live in the former garrison
below, free to come and go as you please.”
A great cheer went up!
“For now, permit me to honor you as my guests at a Feast,
after which we will be entertained by a troupe of players your own ages, and
the court musicians. And from now on, the Eve of the Feast of Heroes will be
known as the Children’s Day, in your honor.”
The prince bowed to them all, then stepped down. He held out
his arm to Lady Alitra, who took it. Everyone else bowed—even Nan and Joe—then
followed into the adjoining chamber.
“Feast,” Joe said. “Yum!”
“Music,” Sarilda said happily.
“Players!” Tarly put in.
“Eh,” Joe said, then he grinned. “Think we can start a food
fight?”
Nan thought of all that wasted food—and the servants, some
of whom were friends, who would be stuck with the mess. “Only if you help clean
up,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll just stick to stuffing my face.” Joe laughed.
They went looking for seats. Nan saw Kevriac, who smiled
shyly and beckoned her over. Near him was the smiling man with the star-stone
ring.
“Nan!” Kevriac said. “Come on, sit with us. A few more days,
then I’m off to Magic School with Master Dalved here. Didn’t you say you wanted
to come?”
“But Nan has to return to her own world,” the man said.
Horror seized Nan, and suddenly all the triumph, the
justice, the light went out of the universe. “No,” she said, backing away.
“But two came, and two must return,” the man said gently. “That
is the nature of the spell we made—for you will return to your own time only
moments after you left.”
“No,” Nan said again, hot tears filling her eyes. “Why? After
everything I did, and finally I did something right, something real, why make
me go back? And don’t tell me it’s for my own good, or worse, that you’ll take
away my memories—I’d rather jump into the ocean and drown!”
Kevriac bit his lip, and the master magician looked soberly
at Nan, who could not control the sobs tearing up from inside.
“We don’t take away memories, for that is wrong,” he said
gently.
“And it’s wrong to send me back where they hate me, where no
one wants me. The prince said that bond servants are slaves, and that’s just
what I am over there, though they call it ‘foster child.’ Earth is evil, and
horrible, and I won’t go back!”
“I don’t believe it is all evil,” he countered. “I believe
your world has its good and its bad, just as ours does here. Even in your particular
corner, there are good foster parents as well as the bad.” He frowned down at
his hands. “You do have to return, for such are our laws. But...I can talk to
the Magic Council. There are other spells for walking between worlds. Perhaps
we can bring you back, and in trade send someone who wishes to study your
world.”
“Don’t say perhaps,” Nan cried. “It’s always a lie.”
“I don’t lie,” the man said. “But you’ve learned little
trust in your life, have you not?”
“None.” Nan’s voice wobbled. “Please. I promised myself if I
learned magic I’d try to and help kids like myself.”
“And you do not think there are children on your world that
could benefit from your help?”
“Too many to count.” Nan was crying not just for herself,
but for every kid like her—every kid who had a hope, then found it torn away. For
the kids who never had hope. “Too many to count. And I don’t see where I could
start to fix it. I can’t even get people like teachers or Mrs. Evans to listen
to me when I explain something small. How can I ever do anything about the big
problems?”