Her voice crackled and snapped across the ice and made the pebbles of the shore
vibrate. The false messenger jumped to his feet, visibly trembling now, and looked around him in
all directions. Meghianna's magically produced voice rang off the surrounding high walls of
rock, the boulders, and shredded the mist that clung to the shore of the Lake of Ice, so that the
bodies of the enemies of the Stronghold were revealed. She thought it particularly gruesome to
leave skeletons scattered all around the shore in their rotting shreds of finery and rusting
fragments of armor and weapons, but Meghianna had learned never to cast aside any tradition of
her predecessors. There were plenty of places along the Lake of Ice where the inhabitants of the
Stronghold could walk in undisturbed tranquility and enjoy the landscape. The only places
visitors would ever see were filled with the fragments of cruel punishments and death.
Yes, there is treachery in the Court, and you are part of it. Did you believe you
could lie to the Queen of Snows, and not be punished? You were judged false from the moment
you walked through the stone gates. Your own lies have wrapped death's cords around your
throat.
If the man had fled the moment she accused him of lying, he would already be in the
maze of caverns that surrounded and guarded the Stronghold, and he would live to tell about his
adventure. But like every self-righteous, lying traitor, he stayed to argue and lie more.
Meghianna felt a little pity when he shook and his face grew a little paler as he spoke,
shaking his head and holding out his hands in a gesture of pleading. She didn't listen to his
words, as she gathered up her will.
Just a few nights ago, Kaldar had brought the boys a deliciously horrifying tale of a ship
that had sailed too far north at the worst of the winter storms. All its crew had been found
encased in ice, standing at their posts on the deck of the ship. Meghianna had found the story just
as horribly fascinating as her boys.
It would certainly be a new and novel punishment, and would preserve the body for
other liars and traitors to see. It might warn away those who still had a conscience.
You ignored the warnings and you came to lie,
she said, breaking into the man's
denials.
You refused to leave when you could. Very well, then. Stay here forever.
Gathering up the frigid air and water from below the ice, she wrapped them around the
man, encasing him in a pillar of glistening ice, as solid as crystal, without even an air bubble to
escape his nostrils or lips.
Meghianna shivered a little in sympathy, even knowing the man had died instantly. She
was glad she felt some horror at his death--it meant she hadn't become completely hardened to
such drastic measures.
Rubbing her hands against the chill that came through the enchantment, she hurried
down the stairs to Ector and her boys, praying she was in time to prevent a wedding she was far
too busy to escape with any courtesy.
"Mother!" Lycen darted across the room to Meghianna the moment she parted the
curtain at the bottom of the loft stairs, and stepped into the main room. "Who is that?" He
gestured with the head motion Ector had taught the boys, part of the signals used for
communication in the presence of enemies. Meghianna opened her mouth to tell the boy that
while his gesture was more polite than pointing, he was being ridiculous to use such tactics.
Then she saw the woman in her gold-trimmed cloak of black that shimmered in the
lantern light filling the inn. Below that shimmer of fine cloth, she saw the faint glimmer of
magic, long restrained and tightly disciplined. Its resonance was familiar.
Megs?
she called, feeling a trembling deep in her chest. Though the visitor's
face was hidden in the shadowy depths of her fine cloak, Meghianna recognized the presence of
her sister, though it had been sixteen years since they had seen each other or communicated
across the Threads.
Efrin had sent Megassa and Lorkin into exile for poisoning Queen Glyssani to prevent
conception. The years had softened the anger of the Warhawk, and he communicated with his
younger daughter in her fortress in the Wayhauk Mountains. He sent gifts for her four sons. Efrin
had never formally invited Megassa, Lorkin, and their sons to Court, though he had rescinded his
order of banishment.
When Meghianna became Ianni the innkeeper, she had severed the link that had existed
between her and her sister since the scholars of Wynystrys wove the spell that limited Megassa's
imbrose
. She could not take the risk that someone with stronger
imbrose
could
follow that link between the two sisters and find Athrar. Meghianna had heard little from
Megassa since her banishment. Her sister had refused all attempts at communication through the
Threads, and only sent letters and accepted them. Glyssani believed Megassa harbored a grudge
that Meghianna hadn't taken her part when she was punished for her treachery.
Meghianna regretted severing the link, because it gave her no ability to reach through
her sister's protective walls. She had no way of knowing how strong Megassa's
imbrose
was, how much control she had over it, and if her sister had come to this small, obscure inn to
cause harm.
"I hear there is a talented healer woman here," Megassa said, tugging back her hood.
She wore her red hair bound back on her head, with jewels woven into it, and a gauzy scarf
covering the intricate mass. Streaks of silver added to the elegance of the look, and there were
lines around her eyes and mouth.
Meghianna shivered at the strangeness of realizing Megassa looked at least ten years
older than she. She congratulated herself on keeping her voice and steps assured, no wavering,
no hesitation when she spoke. "I am Ianni, a healer in this quarter of the city."
"Please, two of my sons have some springtime malady. Will you come to my inn to tend
them?"
"Can I come with you, Mother?" Lycen stayed by Meghianna's side as she crossed the
room to stand in front of Megassa.
"It's my turn," Thrarin said, leaping up from the table where Ector just barely managed
to keep his mouth from dropping open at the sight of the elegant noblewoman in the inn.
"Now now, you two." Bethian stopped in the middle of the floor, her blacksmith-strong
arms full of trays of dirty dishes. "I thought you planned on helping me with my baking. Who's
going to test the berry tarts to make sure they're good enough for our customers?"
Megassa laughed, the merry sound of innocent childhood mischief. "A dilemma, indeed.
I assure you, young man, your mother will be perfectly safe with me. We are only perhaps
twenty minutes of walking away. Sir, you are a soldier assigned to the garrison here?" She
nodded to Ector, who leaped to his feet and bowed, somehow managing not to knock over his
stool or any of the other chairs around him.
"Captain Ector, commander of the garrison, at your service, milady."
"Wonderful. Captain, would you stand as escort for our healer Ianni, so her son doesn't
worry for her safety?"
"Sons," Thrarin said, crossing over to stand next to Lycen. "Why do you look so much
like our mother?"
"Don't be silly," Bethian said, chuckling, as she continued across the room with her load
of plates. "They look nothing look alike." She met Meghianna's gaze, grinning, before she
ducked into the kitchen. "I need someone to wash dishes before I can start baking," she
called.
"Go," Meghianna said, fighting not to laugh at the indecision in the boys' faces. They
adored helping Bethian when she was baking. Their sweet tooth was almost as strong as their
hunger for adventure. "I'll be perfectly all right."
"Most likely it will take longer for you to come to our inn and return, than it will to
determine what ails my sons." Megassa smiled sweetly. Her gaze flicked sideways to watch the
boys dash into the kitchen. "Two sons? They both must look like their father. Where is he?"
"I am a widow, milady."
"My condolences. Captain, if we could be on our way?" She gestured at the door.
Why had Megassa come for her? Meghianna mulled the question as she gathered up her
healing supplies, which she doubted she would actually need, and let Ector escort her and her
sister out the front door of the inn.
More important, how had Megassa found her? Meghianna couldn't imagine her sister
visiting every healer in every city in Lygroes, wagering that the Queen of Snows hid there. If
Megassa had come just to make mischief, Meghianna vowed she would find a punishment that
would make her sister's banishment seem like a spring frolic.
"Is your husband with you, Lady?" Meghianna asked, when the three of them had turned
two streets and moved away from the harbor, heading into the more affluent quarter of the
city.
"No. He has important work. Leading our enemies on a mad chase." Megassa cast a
sideways glance at Ector, who walked a respectful distance slightly behind them. With a little
shrug, she brushed her hand against Meghianna's.
I know you probably don't trust us, Meggi,
but I swear, we're here to help you. And our brother.
"Ah, here we are." She gestured at the
inn. "We have the entire second floor. Far too much room for us, but the innkeeper insisted. Your
inn is lovely. Would there be room for us there? My boys would enjoy meeting your sons."
"Let me see how ill your sons are, milady. Then we can decide if my inn is fit for
you."
A glance out of the corner of her eye revealed Ector watching them, frowning, his gaze
going back and forth between the two. Meghianna felt slightly better, knowing her old friend
suspected something lay deep under the surface of the seemingly innocuous conversation.
Megassa's four boys waited in the common room of the second floor. Four men in
Lorkin's livery, gray and dark lavender, with the drakag emblem of the royal house of Welcairn
on their shoulders, stood guard at the top of the stairs, the door of the room, and inside the room
at both windows. Signs of play interrupted and lessons ignored lay partially concealed. Scrolls
and wax tablets and slates lay haphazardly piled on the long table in the center of the room.
Carved wooden animals and toy swords were piled up in one corner and partially covered with
the cloth that once covered the table. Bruises and welts marked the boys' hands and faces,
indicating scuffles the guardsmen stationed inside the room hadn't interfered in.
Meghianna took a closer look at the guardsmen and muffled a chuckle when she saw
mussed hair and bruises, and a few mischievous glances shared between the boys and men. So,
the men had indulged in playtime with the boys under their care. That said much for the affection
between Megassa's family and those sworn to their service. Meghianna agreed with her former
nurse, Nalla, that the feelings between nobility and their personal servants said much for the
character of the nobility.
"Thank you." Megassa nodded toward the door. The guardsmen left. Ector stayed
outside in the hall, and Meghianna saw some of his concern ease up when the guardsmen left.
His eyes narrowed in discontent when the door closed, leaving him outside and her separated
from him. "Is he so loyal because he knows, or he's a sweetheart?" her sister continued, sitting
down on the long bench that ran under the larger of the two windows. Immediately, her two
younger boys clambered up on the bench to sit on either side of her, and the two older ranged
themselves in front of her, taking up the guardsmen's places.
"Suitor," Meghianna said with a smile. "And I rather think he adores Bethian's cooking
just as much as he hopes to wear down my resistance someday."
"It must be nice to know you have such loyalty without anyone knowing the truth," her
sister mused. A flicker of sadness peered out from her eyes before she closed them. For two
heartbeats, weariness emphasized the silver streaking her hair. Then she took a deep breath, sat
up straighter, wrapped her arms around the two boys, and opened her eyes. "Well, my dears, this
is your aunt at last. What do you say to her?"
"Aunt Meggi?" the oldest, tallest of the boys said. This had to be Lok. He was his
father's image, but without the hardness around his mouth, the sharpness in his eyes.
Meghianna threw out a testing loop of Thread, wrapping it around all the boys. All of
them had faint
imbrose
. She didn't know why she felt disappointment that Megassa's
sons hadn't inherited strong
imbrose
. Wasn't this what the Rey'kil Council and the
Warhawk's Council had hoped? That the legacy of the Nameless One would die out in Triska
and Trevissa's line?
It stole her breath to realize that Lok had called her Aunt Meggi--meaning that was how
Megassa had referred to her all these years, when talking to her boys about her.
"Yes, Lok, I'm your aunt." Meghianna blinked away her tears and smiled. "I've been
terribly busy, but I did miss you, Megs."
Megassa let out a little moan and launched from her bench, nearly dragging the two
boys with her. She wrapped her arms around Meghianna and they clung to each other, laughing
and weeping. They ended up on the bench again, with the boys asking questions and the littlest
one somehow managing to get onto Meghianna's lap. She welcomed that sign of trust and easy
affection. It meant Megassa and Lorkin hadn't spoken evil or anger about her to their boys. That
easy acceptance and affection from the four boys meant more to her than anything Megassa said
when she revealed her story.
"We unraveled the mystery perhaps five years ago," her sister said, after sending Lok
and the next boy in line, Mikyl, to fetch cider and cakes from the innkeeper. "When you cut the
connection between us, that told me you were the most likely one to have charge of Athrar."
"Did it hurt?"
"Not feeling the link between us break, but knowing why you had to do it. Oh, I was so
furious. I was sure it was Lord Mrillis' doing..." Megassa shrugged and stroked the hair of the
boy on her lap, Arkin. "Then after a while, I realized I would have done the same thing if our
roles were reversed. I certainly hadn't given you any sign that I had learned my lesson, so why
should you trust me? Especially when I locked you out every time you tried to reach me?"