A.N. Hey guys! Okay, here's the sequel to Girl of the Rogue. I'm a little nervous because I'm not sure if the sequel is ever as good as the prequel so bear with me! I promise, there are new characters in the making as well as a really good plot. (You'll understand when you reach the end of this chapter.) Also, if you really, really want something in this story, like a bit of romance, (got it), some action, (got it), a character with a really different personality (got it), let me know and I'll see what I can do. Anyway, without further adieu, (How do you spell that?) here's Quest for the Past.
Chapter 1
"Thanks." The emerald-eyed young woman grabbed the parcel and left the merchant's stall, pulling the hood of her cloak around her head more firmly. It was just before the Midwinter celebrations and Nyah was picking up some last minute gifts for her "family". There was a rule in the Rogue that you couldn't steal the gifts you gave during Midwinter, you had to buy them. So, for the past week Nyah had been slipping out of the Dancing Dove and buying and bartering for their presents.
She shivered as she walked down Market Way, pulling her cloak tighter around her skirts. "It is so cold!" she chattered through her teeth. "You'd think I wouldn't have a problem with it, being from-" she paused only for a moment, "-the north."
She walked until she reached the Lower City and the local inn, the Dancing Dove. It had been her home for the past two years, ever since she had been "brought" to the tavern. Unconscious and nearly bleeding to death, she thought with a small grin. It hadn't been funny at the time but now that she looked back on it, a fifteen-year-old girl trying to rob the Palace, she realized she had been a fool to think she could actually get away with it.
She smiled and walked up to the side door near the stables, thanking the gods that someone had shoveled the walkway while she was gone. The piles of pure white snow were stacked five feet height on both sides of the door way. Trudging through that mess in her pretty green dress was not something she was looking forward to.
As she was thinking, suddenly, something cold and wet hit her square in the face. She yelped wiped the perfectly aimed snowball off. Her hood fell back, revealing a wave of auburn hair. She knew only one person who had that kind of aim.
"Eric Tanner!" she yelled. Her friend Eric leaned against the wall of the stable, another snowball in his gloved hand. "You're going to regret that!" she threatened, though her eyes gleamed with fun.
Eric grinned mischievously and tossed the snowball from hand to hand. "Oh I am?" he asked. He eyed the sack that had his Midwinter gift in it and smirked. "What'd you get?" he asked.
Nyah grinned impishly and hid the bag behind her back. "I'm not telling you!"
Eric made to grab for the sack and she pulled it out of his reach. He feigned left, the lunged right, grabbing. But Nyah had not been a thief her whole life for nothing. She had been in more narrow escapes than one and that was one of the oldest tricks in the book.
Nyah jumped out of the way at the last second and Eric, surprised by her move, dove headfirst into the large snow bank behind her. Nyah took one look at her poor friend, his head stuck in the snow, and burst out laughing. Eric jumped up and glared at her. "You think that's funny, huh? Come here you!"
He jumped and grabbed her around the waist, tackling her. The two of them fell in the snowdrift, wrestling with each other. Nyah's sack lay forgotten by the door as they laughed and threw snow at one another. Finally, Nyah yelled, "Okay I give up!"
Eric smiled with satisfaction. Then suddenly he seemed to realize what it looked like he was doing and immediately rolled over on his back next to her, blushing. His embarrassment didn't last long though when Nyah's clear laugh rang out. Soon, the two of them lay panting and laughing in the snow. Nyah looked at him with a grin. "But I'm still not telling you!" she added rebelliously.
"Fine," he told her. "I'll wait. I've got plenty of time."
He held out his hand and a laughing Nyah took it. He pulled her up from the pile of snow and the friends went inside together.
Nyah went up to her room with her sack and hid the gifts under the bed, her cheeks red from being outside in the snow, but also from being with Eric. She threw her cloak on the bed and sat down, sending her emerald green Gift to the fireplace and all the candles in her room. She felt giddy and she couldn't stop smiling.
She scolded herself for acting like such a child. She had been in relationships with men before! Why was Eric so different? "Because he has the bluest eyes I've ever seen," she said aloud with a dreamy smile on her face. "Because he is so tall and handsome and- oh gods what am I doing?" she cried out in exasperation. "Stop thinking about him! He's a friend!"
Soon, she was warm and comfortable and she placed a kettle over the fire to warm. The fireplace, which was on the left side of the room, had a large plush couch in front of it and a low coffee table. She dropped on the couch and sighed contentedly.
It had been two years since she had been sealed into the Rogue and about one year since George, the King of the Court of the Rogue and her "brother", had declared her the Princess of the Rogue. She looked down at her arm and saw the "R" that had been burned into her above the crook of her elbow. What made hers different was that hers was crowned with a circle of roses and thorns, a symbol that she was royalty of the Rogue.
The heated kettle whistled merrily and Nyah poured the heated water into a cup with a tea bag and stirred. Her thoughts changed to all the events that had happened up till now. Ever since she was fifteen, a young goddess had visited her in her dreams called Kiloa who looked out for her and who, Nyah suspected, was a child of the Great Mother Goddess. Kiloa had told her to confront her past but the past was hard. Fear swept over her and she had tried to rob the Palace, thinking she could get enough to get passage to the Yamani Isles and start over. "That didn't exactly work," she mumbled thinking of when the men of the Rogue had shot her with an arrow. "Come to think of it," she muttered, "It was Eric who nearly killed me. And now I lo-" she stopped herself short.
She remembered when, shortly after she had been branded into the Rogue, George had been captured by soldiers because of her and she had tried to rescue him. He escaped but she was caught, drained of her magical Gift, and very nearly executed before he saved her in return. Very nearly, she thought, rubbing her neck. The feeling the noose had given her, as it tightened unbearably was one that would stay with her the rest of her life.
After that, she and George fled to his estate in Port Caynn. No one in Tortall knew where they had gone except for the Rogue. They had stayed there for six months until the search for the two of them had died down. After that, Rispah had helped Nyah disguise herself by dyeing her blond hair brown and taking out all of the little braids that covered her head. Kiloa had done these and told Nyah that in Galla, two hundred years ago, the style meant "Princess of Thieves". Ever since then, Nyah had worn one thin braid in her long brown hair that now had grown down her back.
Also, her Gift that had allowed her to silence herself and pick locks when she stole things had been drained when she was captured. One day, miraculously, it had been restored and Nyah strongly suspected Kiloa's work but knew by now that she shouldn't question the gods. She never got any answers, only more questions and besides, it just gave her a headache anyway.
Nyah finished drinking her tea and set the cup down, smiling. All in all, she had done all right for herself. Getting up, she changed out of her dress and pulled on her tight black pants, loose black blouse, and mid calf high boots. Slipping her belt around her waist, she slid three daggers in their sheaths and two more in the hidden ones in her boots. Her pouch of Yamani throwing stars also tied onto the belt. She pulled her hair into a tight braided bun, leaving the thin braid hanging down by her left ear. Outfit complete, she went down to the common room for an early supper with George and the rest of her group. She had work to do tonight.
The next day, Nyah woke and jumped out of bed, throwing on her housedress. It was the day of the longest night of the year during Midwinter, and the day when gifts were exchanged. She grabbed her wrapped gifts from under her bed and ran downstairs to the common room.
"Hurry up!" the tall and muscular Leon said as she approached the table by the fire. "You're the last one down." Sure enough, George, Rispah, Eric, Orem, Shem, Ercole, and everyone else was gathered around the large table in the back of the Dancing Dove near the fireplace.
Everyone exchanged gifts and Nyah watched with pride as Rispah gasped when she pulled a garnet and gold pectoral from the box. Nyah beamed with pride. That had cost her three nights' work and she very nearly got caught in one of the shops trying to find the moneybox.
Rispah put the brooch on immediately and gave Nyah a large hug. George was next, and Nyah had bought him a new set of five daggers, each protected with magic and made with the finest Yamani steel money could buy. George tested the blade on his finger and smiled when it drew a drop of blood without him even putting pressure on it. "A finer set of knives, I don't think I've ever owned, baby girl," George commented as he placed them back in their brown sheaths. Nyah blushed at George's nickname for her.
The rest of her friends received small trinkets, none as expensive as George's or Rispah's, but no one cared. It was as though the two cousins had unofficially adopted the teenager anyhow.
Nyah opened her gifts along with everyone else and found several things. She received small things from the men and women of the Rouge, things like a whittled flute that Leon had given her and a new shawl that Red Nell had made. The gift that George gave her came from Rispah also. It was packaged in a tiny navy box, no bigger than the palm of her hand. She gently opened it.
She nearly fainted when she saw the present. Inside was a solid gold chain and locket with numerous tiny diamonds in the shape of an "R" on the front. The locket was oval shaped and was only about as big as twice her thumbnail. "Rispah! George! I can't accept this!" she said breathlessly.
"You have to," George said teasingly. "It's Midwinter after all."
"Look on the back," Rispah told her gently.
Nyah turned the sparkling locket over and on the other side was in inscription in tiny letters. Nyah leaned over to read it. So you always know where you belong. Nyah felt the locket with caressing fingertips, and she smiled. She had forgotten to say thank you but she didn't need to. The words were already there on her face. "Thank you," she whispered. She didn't cry; she never cried. But she felt tears standing in her eyes.
After the exchange was over, Nyah realized that the only person she hadn't gotten a gift from was Eric. She was slightly hurt, especially with them being such close friends. You don't need another gift, she scolded herself as she fingered the priceless locket around her neck. After this, you should be content with never getting another gift in your life!
However, afterwards, everyone went over to Solom to get breakfast and Eric walked up to Nyah, who was laughing with Red Nell.
"Could I speak with you for a moment?" he asked, unusually polite.
"Sure," Nyah replied, stepping out of line. Nell coughed loudly and gave a wry wink. Eric blushed. Nyah glared at the older woman. Every Lady of the Rogue always made such a fuss after she did anything involving Eric. They were just friends, nothing more. Right?
Eric led her to another part of the room where they were out of site from the breakfast line. "Here." He handed her a box, a little smaller than the one the locket came in. "These are for you. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of their Majesties. There was no way I could compete with that."
"Eric!" Nyah gave him a playful shove. "You know I don't care what you get me. Just so long as you get me something!" she told him jokingly.
"Well, open it," he told her. "Go on!"
Nyah carefully untied the red ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a set of gold and pearl earbobs. "Eric!" she gasped. "They're beautiful! Thank you so much!" She looked up into her friend's face and stopped talking. She seemed to notice for the first time, just how blue his eyes were. His hair was a coal black and seemed to shine in the dim light. They were close, barely inches between them.
Suddenly, Eric leaned close and kissed her warmly. Nyah was so shocked, she almost pulled away. The kiss lasted for several minutes. He's good, a voice in the back of her head whispered. Very good. Finally, he pulled away, although all too soon for her.
"Midwinter luck, Nyah," he whispered as he stroked her cheek with his fingertips. Then he walked away, back to the breakfast line, leaving Nyah alone with the beautiful gift and the kiss fresh on her lips.
Late Midwinter night, Nyah lay in her bed with the blankets pulled tight around her, a fire blazing in the hearth. Her window was cracked just a tiny bit. Normally, she couldn't sleep with a bit of fresh air, no matter how cold it was outside. However, tonight she still couldn't sleep even though the cool air came in through the window. She knew why. Eric's kiss still lingered on her lips.
Sighing, she lay with her hands behind her back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe, she thought, if I just close my eyes, I'll drift off to sleep.
She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the sharp Midwinter aromas of evergreens and snow coming from the outside. After a moment, the smells changed. She smelled the scent of coming rain and of mountain air, so different from the city's smell. In her mind, she saw shooting stars that fell so numerously in one area that they made a solid backdrop, like a waterfall. A young woman took shape in front of the almost blinding curtain of stars and Nyah smiled inwardly. She knew who this was.
Kiloa, the Young Goddess, stood before her, clad in Midwinter colors; a beautiful red dress with a golden sash. Her long black hair hung in curly ringlets and on her head was a crown of stars, only these were golden instead of sliver like the ones behind her.
"Nyah." Kiloa nodded her head and smiled. Her face was almost too beautiful to look. Her skin was a milky white and her cheeks were flushed with red. Her lips were a deep red that matched her dress. Her nose was sculpted with careful precision and heavy lashed eyes were always flashing different colors.
"It's been too long." Her eyes flashed purple. "You have grown from a gangly young girl to a beautiful young woman. Now, Nyah, I feel the time is right."
Right for what? Nyah thought apprehensively in her sleep. What will she tell me this time?
The eyes went silver. "Nyah I can tell you no more than this, for it is all I know. Your father is alive still living in Scanra. Once I told you to search for you past. Now I tell you again, my sister. Find your past in Scanra!"
Nyah woke with a jerk. Sunlight flooded her room and the fire had burnt to ashes. She heard a winter bird chirping and the talk of men down in the common room as they ate their breakfasts.
She placed a hand to her forehead. "Alive?" she whispered. "My father's… alive?"