A Hero's Curse (21 page)

“She’s got great eyes ya grate lump o’ grease. It be nonna yer nosiness anyhow.” I feel Illiana’s hand tightening. “I dunno how you be seein’ anybot wit’ nobbit but leetle piggy peepers in yur great fat face.” Illiana turns and tugs me toward the door. “Come on, Ess, this is no place for us to shop.”

“Hode on,” calls the shopkeeper. “Don’ go getting’ all huff. I dinna mean a drop o’ harmousness. I’z jus cureeus. Wat yur master wan?”

I turn around one more time as Illiana comes back into the middle of the shop. “A speak-only wave portal.”

“Jus one?” I hear the shopkeeper slip off to a corner and mess with his goods.

“We’ll want to try it, to see that it works,” says Illiana, all business. She sounds a bit like my dad when he is at the open market.

“Ye, course you wud.” He comes back over and places a bowl in my hand. “Na-spill o’ course. Na stolen needer. Jus ready for a speaker.”

“Thanks.” Illiana turns and tugs me over to what must be a corner of the shop. “Stand here, Ess. I’ll speak to you through the wave portal. Here, you just touch the wave,” she takes my finger and touches the inside of the bowl. It feels like sticky water, but my hand comes away without any traces of wet. “Right, and then you touch it again to break the connection.”

“Break the connection?” I ask.

“Yeah, hold on, it’s off now. When the portal activates touch the surface.” She lets me go, and her quick feet scamper off to another corner of the shop. The shopkeeper slips quietly back to his counter, and I hear his weight settle into a chair. The chair makes more noise than he does.

“Okay, Ess?” Illiana calls from the other side of the room. She is slightly muted. I can hear her, but she is quite a few feet away.

“I guess,” I respond, still unsure what I am supposed to do. A sound like a drop of water in my bowl.

“That’s me, Ess, touch the wave,” calls Illiana. I touch my bowl and feel the cool gel on my fingers. “Hey, Ess!”

I shriek and drop my portal.

“Ezee on da portal, you crunch it you da new ownit.”

“Sorry!” I say breathlessly. I bend over and find the portal. Everything feels okay—even the water is still in place.

“Ess,” Illiana whispers, and it sounds like I am holding her in the portal again. She giggles, “That was funny, you really jumped.”

“That wasn’t funny!” I whisper back fiercely. “What if I had broken it?”

“Probably not, they make them pretty well these days. What do you think?” she says.

“Can you hear me?” I whisper.

“Yeah. Loud and clear.”

“What about now?” I say in my tiniest whisper so I know neither she nor the shopkeeper can hear me.

“Still just fine.”

“Wow.” I pause for a second. “What did I just say?”

Illiana sighs, “You said, ‘Wow, what did I just say?’ Satisfied?”

“That’s amazing!” I shout. Illiana laughs, and her feet patter back over to me. “Neat, huh?”

“Okey dokey, da master wan dem or not?” the shopkeeper says a little peevishly.

“One other thing,” says Illiana. “We also want to look at the best image portal you have.”

“Da master wan dat one, too?” he says suspiciously. Much of the oil is gone from his voice.

“She might,” Illiana says breezily.

“Ri dare,” he grunts, and I hear the chair readjust. Illiana takes my hand and leads me across the shop.

“Practically everybody’s got a speak-only wave portal now. Those no-spills are nice. You can take those with you on a trip. The older kind you have to leave at home so they don’t spill.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “Pretty nice for a little hawk shop like this one. I’ll bet either he stole them or he bought them from some pickpocket.” She resumes a normal volume and continues, “But an image portal is more expensive. The speak-only wave portal was a lot like a bowl, right?”

“Right . . .” I respond.

“Well, an image portal is usually just a ring or circle and the image appears in the circle. The picture usually ripples, because it’s a wave portal, too, but the best ones don’t have too bad of a ripple. The bigger they are the better the picture is. This one isn’t all that big.”

“How big? And is it sitting or lying on a counter?” I ask.

“I’d say it’s about the size of my head, which means it’s huge. Just kidding, that was a joke, you need to laugh more. It’s about the size of a big melon, and it’s hanging on the wall in front of us.”

“Okay. What does it do?” I ask.

“It shows you the person on the other side.”

“Neat,” I say. But I am already ready to move on. I am more interested in the speak-only wave portals. At least I can interact with those.

“What do you want to see?” Illiana asks. “I mean, sorry, that was kind of rude. You probably want to see everything. I can see it and describe it to you.”

“See who?” I ask.

“Whoever you want. I mean, they have to have one, too, of course. And they have to be in front of it. Lots of important people have one.”

“I don’t know anyone with a wave portal, Illiana. I don’t even know if we have them in the Kingdom of Mar.”

“Right. Sorry.” She is only quiet a second then blurts, “Didn’t you say that your parents were helping lead the rebellion?”

“Yeah . . .”

“I’ll bet they have a portal to keep in touch with everyone.”

My heart skips a beat. “I doubt it, Illiana. I don’t think we even have these in our kingdom.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t know about it! You said they never told you anything! They probably kept it a secret, if they even had one back when you guys were farming. But now, at the height of a rebellion, they’d be sure to have one!” I flap my hand in a hushing motion, and she drops her voice back down to a whisper. “All you have to do is say their name to the portal, and it will check to see if they have one. It can’t hurt.”

I take a deep breath, face the portal, and feel like this isn’t really happening. I have spent so much time trying to get back to my parents. I desperately want to talk to them; I want Dad to be here to help. I want him to answer questions. “Just their names?” I clarify.

“Yeah, and it will make it faster if you say where they’re from.” She drops her voice even lower. “Hurry up, this hawk is getting suspicious.”

“Does your master need a wave portal?” I ask in a whisper.

“Of course not. I just wanted to show you what they had.”

“Oh.” I turn back to the portal and take another deep breath. “Keira and Killian Brightsday,” I hesitate and turn to Illiana.

“Go on, a place, a city or street or something,” she hisses.

“I don’t know where they are,” I say.

“Are they still in the Kingdom of Mar?”

“Probably,” I say.

“Try that.”

I turn back to the portal, “Kingdom of Mar.” The portal sounds like silk rippling on the breeze.

Illiana clicks her tongue “It turned black. Like it’s night there or something.”

“Your name,” the portal says in a man’s voice. I jump involuntarily. It sounds like he is right in front of us. Illiana takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Uh, I’m Ess, I mean Essie, Essie Brightsday.”

We both stand for what seems like forever but is probably just a few seconds. “Essie Brightsday?” The man’s voice is surprised.

“Yes, um, is Killian or Keira there?”

“No, this is Regan Millwright. This is a commander’s portal. All commanders have our names linked here. Your parents were afraid you were dead. Cagney couldn’t find you.”

I let out a cough that is almost a sob. “He’s okay? We didn’t know! When the mercenaries attacked the farm we ran into the Valley of Fire. We thought he’d been killed.”

“He’s fine. He and your parents are with the force at Plen. They are attempting to take the inner city and the Ignisberg Keep. The Hasarrii surrendered day before yesterday, but Brogan and his army have holed up with several mages and a warlock. It’s proving to be a tough nut to crack. He’s going to try to burn the city with everything in it.”

“Are they okay?”

“They were this morning. We have the outer city secured, all but the harbor. Some sea giants have attacked us from that direction, but they probably won’t leave the water. They lose most of their power on land. But where are you?”

“I’m here in Aeola—”

I hear the chair squeak behind us. “Wat ya doin’ wit da portal?” asks the shopkeeper. “Eef you wan to peek at more you gonna hav ta buy eet.” He glides over and bumps past us. I yell into the portal as he pushes us aside.

“Please, tell them there’s an army coming! I can’t come home—”

“Diddly dong goodbye,” says the hawker in a bored voice and his hand brushes by my face as he touches the portal. A light snap and the sound of rippling silk ceases.

“So you gonna buy or wat?” says the shopkeeper in a demanding voice.

“Nope, we need a bigger one after all,” says Illiana in a light voice. “Thanks anyway!” She grabs my hand again and pulls me back out the door into the hustle and noise of the street.

“Wow, your parents really are in the middle of a war!” she says, her voice full of excitement. A wave of cold is followed by a dizzying rush, and I can only grip her hand harder.

D
espite Illiana leading me through the crowds, I bump and jostle several people over the next few minutes. My thoughts have been tangled since we met with the queen, but now they have become sharper. Focused.

Is Dad okay?
What did Millwright mean that Brogan wanted to burn the city? How did Uncle Cagney let the mercenaries get by him?
These and a hundred other thoughts tumble and stab through my brain, wrestling for attention and space, just like the people around us.

“Here we are,” announces Illiana. She pulls me off the street. “We’re behind the palace now, and this door comes into the back of the cook’s hall.” She pushes a door open, and a wave of warm smells washes over me. The aroma of bread, fruit, and spiced meat wraps around us and pulls us into the hall. Cooks are calling out to each other over the thud of chopping food and the splash of washing. Illiana puts an arm around my waist and leads me through the kitchens like an experienced dancer. We duck through what feels like swinging doors and into a hot room that smells of fresh baked bread, butter, raisins, milk, dough, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and several other spices that I don’t recognize.

“Jaeda,” she calls, “I found a new friend!” I feel my cheeks warm at Illiana’s description. I am startled by how much I like hearing her say “friend.” I push the feeling down. No one makes friends that quickly.

Jaeda has a broad accent and huffs quite a bit while speaking. “Well, of course you did, girl. Let me meet her. It’ll do my legs good to set down a spell, I shouldn’t wonder. Just finished with cleaning up after dinner and the queen orders another ‘light evening setting,’ for some guests she’s got. So here we run around all in a tizzy trying to get the ovens hot again.”

“Too bad,” says Illiana. “We were hoping you were all done for the night and throwing the day’s pasties out.”

“There’s some pasties left over, girl, there on the shelf above the counter . . . that’s right,” says Jaeda. “But not so fast. What brings you all the way to the baker’s kitchen on a work night besides my old pasties?”

Illiana takes my hand and extends it outward. “This is Ess from the Kingdom of Mar,” she says, and I feel two hot pudgy hands take my own hand. Illiana goes on, “She’s the daughter of Killian and Keira Brightsday. Maybe you remember—”

“First Champion,” finishes Jaeda. “So the First Champion Killian Brightsday’s daughter,” she muses, shaking my hand slowly. I can feel her studying me like an interesting loaf of bread that she wants to dissect to see if it was made with cinnamon or raisins, sourdough or sweet, extra cream or not.

I decide to go with the flow. “Dad resigned as King’s Champion almost ten years ago,” I say.

“Did he now?” asks Jaeda. “How interesting. What made him do that?” Jaeda lets go of my hand and pushes a chair under my legs. Next moment she settles heavily into a protesting chair across from me with only a tiny slab of table between us. Her elbows rest easily on the slab, and I feel her lean in waiting for me to start.

“Hold on, Jaeda,” says Illiana briskly, “you want information, so do we. And we want pasties.”

Jaeda turns all business. “Well, if you want information I’ll trade you fair and square. If you want pasties you’ll have to do somat extra.”

“How about Essie tells you about her journey and then you tell us everything you know about Killian and the queen and the daemon, and I’ll wash those pans you hate? That’s more than a fair trade, and you know it,” says Illiana.

“Done,” says Jaeda. Her own chair squeaks beside me as she settles in. Illiana pours water into a basin in front of us and starts to work.

“But you forgot to barter for a turnover or a crisp,” clucks Jaeda with a disapproving tone. “Well, no sense in all of us starving,” she chuckles, as she shoves a pasty into my hand. I hear her munch happily for a moment. Illiana’s dishes stop clinking, and she must give Jaeda a look because Jaeda splutters, “I’m not going first, dearie! You had better get on with telling me a little something and make it juicy, or I don’t know how much my old noggin will be able to remember when it comes my turn.” I feel like a fish in a net. Jaeda is an expert fisherwoman, and she probably brings home a healthy catch of gossip daily. I start slowly, but build momentum as the story progresses. Most of the questions Jaeda asks are related to my family, or King Mactogonii, unlike the questions from the queen, who asked about the terrain, how far we traveled in one day, or about the change in drought conditions from one area to another.             

Illiana finally interrupts my story. “That’s enough, Ess. It’s Jaeda’s turn. I’ve washed, you’ve talked, and Jaeda’s just sat there eatin’ her own cooking. It’s time she delivered.”

Jaeda slaps her hands across her chest, and I hear her brush tumbling crumbs to the floor. “Okay, keep washing, dear. I’ve been collecting my thoughts. You said you wanted to know about First Champion Killian Brightsday and his sweetheart, our very own Queen Leonatrix?”

“Sweetheart?” Illiana and I echo.

“This was nigh on—” Jaeda pauses, mumbling dates and names to herself, counting the years backward. “The cook was Jonan right before . . . and that would have been right after Martla got caught with Breg . . . but I was still in the kitchens so that would have been before that even . . .” Her mumbling subsides for a moment. “It must have been about twenty-four years ago, give or take.”

“What was?” I interrupt.

“Hush, girl,” says Jaeda, but I can tell that she’s pleased she has us hooked.

“Well, first off, there had been groups in both Aeola and your kingdom trying to patch things up for years,” says Jaeda. “Some falling out happened well over a century ago, and folks don’t forget hurt easy. Well, back then Queen Leonatrix was pretty young, my weren’t we all though . . .” Jaeda giggles. “The queen was a bit of a looker if you catch my meanin’. Then here comes this delegation of emissaries from down below includin’ a fiery protector by the name of Killian Brightsday. I was one of the first to call it. You ask any of ’em and they’ll tell you I said it then: ‘Them two is going to cause sparks to fly,’ and sure enough as if it were prophesy we didn’t have to wait a moon cycle and they had the kitchens talkin’, they did. Of course I didn’t stand for such silliness, and I told them all to mind their own busy-ness and don’t pay no heed, but of course if they get to talkin’ it’s hard to stop ’em.”

Jaeda emits a disdainful sniff and continues. “Well, the kitchen folk weren’t the only ones to notice what was goin’ on and folks started talkin’ louder. Even some of the ruling council. Next thing you know, some folks are thinkin’ this could be a good turn. Maybe a marriage between Killian Brightsday, a protector—and some said tapped to be the next First Champion of Mar—and Queen Leonatrix would finally put bad blood to rest. Others didn’t think the idea so keen. So things rocked along for months. The boys from down below would come and leave again.”

Here Jaeda giggles again and gives my arm a pinch. “That’s where I met Cagney Brightsday. He liked the kitchens, he did, and I don’t know that it was just because of the cookin’, either. Your King Mactogonii came down once as I recall. Now there was a man if I ever saw one. Not as young as Cagney but such the gentleman, and single too! There was some good times when the delegation visited. There’s where the water gets murky, child. Somethin’ happened that caused an Aoelan council member to file espionage charges against the delegation from your Kingdom of Mar. Next thing everybody blames somebody else, as is bound to happen in the council. I’m not sayin’ it was, and I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t. It don’t matter what I think. The fact is the delegation was expelled and every way into Aeola sealed. Except Queen Leonatrix stepped up and negotiated with the council. Kept Syteless Peak open. Them that works upstairs says she wanted a door open for Killian. Hoped he’d try to come back.”

Jaeda sighs and settles in her chair. “Course, none of ’em came back. None of us down here in the kitchens even knew that some of the council was still tryin’ secret negotiations through portals,” says Jaeda unhappily. “We only heard Killian Brightsday got the post as First Champion after all ’cause it was him sure enough on a scouting mission when the negotiations got out in the open. Ah, even those got stopped. Quite the scandal, you can ask anybody. The queen went cold and hasn’t tried to see or talk to representatives from Mar since. She hasn’t seen another man, neither. Some thought it was because she was waitin’ for Killian to come back, but I figure different. I said, and you can ask ’em, I said that Killian had found himself a new lady down below and that’s what made the queen like she is. Doesn’t fight the council anymore on the issue of the Kingdom of Mar, no way. She actually petitioned to close Syteless Peak several years back, but the council vetoed it for some reason or another. And now look at you sittin’ here in my kitchen provin’ it exactly as I said it was.”

My pasty is still sitting in my hand, forgotten and barely tasted. I hear Jaeda stuff another chunk of the flaky dough in her mouth. “Go on, girl, eat your pasty,” encourages Jaeda. A spray of crumbs hits my face, and I try not to be rude and immediately brush myself off.

She seems to be waiting for someone to urge her on, so I oblige. “So what then? What about the daemon?” Illiana has stopped washing dishes.

“Now,” she slaps her dress again, “Illiana, hurry on with them pans. I don’t know nothin’ about the daemon except he’s a pest for makin’ it flood up here all the time. Someone down in the low world ought to take care of ’im, seeing as how it was someone from down below that helped open the portal in the first place. If you make a mess, clean it up I say. Essie, you can be tellin’ me more about all the latest that’s happenin’ down in the low world. Not your little trip, dearie, just the stuff that’s happenin’ between folks. And of course I’ll have to hear about this other woman. Where’d he find her?”

I shake my head. I feel like I have been in a dream. “I’m sorry?”

“Come, come now, girl, what’s the latest? Who’s leaving whom at the altar? Who’s being poisoned?” asks Jaeda eagerly.

“I don’t know really,” I say uncertainly. “I told you I grew up on a farm near the Valley of Fire. Dad resigned as King’s First Champion after the scouting mission went wrong at Cauldron’s Crater.”

“Is that when he resigned then?” I hear Jaeda’s chair squeak as she pushes back and settles more comfortably. “Well, that’s good enough, girl. Let’s start there.”