Chapter 1
Tris eyed the clay pots carefully through blue-lensed spectacles, inspecting each with the utmost attention to detail and discarding any that held even a hint of a crack or chip. The potter watched her closely, as always; the weather witch came around at least once a month to buy pots of various sizes and always seemed to get the best price from him no matter what he did. The bargaining began as soon as her purchases were set aside, and before long, coins changed hands, the price once more in the favor of the customer rather than the seller. Carefully, the purchased pots were crated up and set in the back of her cart, the donkey giving a quiet complaint when Tris urged it back into the slow moving traffic. Despite this, the pot merchant looked pleased; she would only purchase his pots for her brother, a famous plant mage, and that fact being known by others meant he sold more pottery than he would otherwise.
To the food market she went next, adding several packages of meat, flour, sugar, various vegetables, fruits and rare spices. The vendors knew her and her preferences, and there was never any pushing to purchase more than she asked for. Vendors who pushed did not get revisited. The milk, eggs and cheese arrived every morning fresh at the front door, and either she or the cook selected what they would need for the day. Daja met up with her just as the road merged with the one their house was on, bearing a bundle slung over her shoulder and two more in her arms.
"My orders arrived," the smith mage said as she set them in the back, noting the way the winds frisked around the cart possessively. Any thief would be met with a quick rebuff, and most were smart enough not to try more than once. Especially since Briar had spread the word among the street kids that a second attempt would earn a sharp shock. "Where's the boy? I thought he was coming with you."
We've got a bad case of mites in the garden Briar said 'through' Tris, their minds clearly linked together as the weather witch's eyes showed a greenish cast. The weather the last few days was just perfect to set up for a bad infestation, I need to stop it now, or it'll be a lot harder to get rid of. But I been payin' attention. I probably won't get as good a price, but I can do the shopping just fine.
"He knows better than to poke around," Tris said when Daja raised one brow slightly, tapping a finger to her temple. "Trespassing means a lightning shock, and apparently, it's more painful through our bond than in person." They rarely linked that deeply anymore, even with their circle reforged, as it often allowed things they would still rather keep to themselves to be shared with the others. Leave it to Tris to have found a way to protect herself even then.
Yeah…sparky-zap is really not fun.
"When are you leaving?" Daja asked, letting the matter go as their home came in sight.
"A week, probably," her sister replied as she carefully guided the cart through the city traffic. "Sandry invited us to dinner with the Duke and everyone from Winding Circle in a few days, since I won't be home for my birthday."
"And why are you going back to Lightsbridge again?" The weather mage noted the carefully innocent tone, as she was meant to. They had repeated this conversation many times, even if the question itself was phrased differently each time. Her response stayed the same.
"To study under a great mage who specializes in the area of research and non magical science," Tris explained patiently. "It's not for another certification merely something I find very interesting, and I'll only be gone for about a year."
Daja hadn't expected the answer to change so much as hoped. Sighing, she put a hand on Tris' shoulder and squeezed gently. "Okay, then, if you're sure this is what you want."
Tris rolled her eyes behind round lenses but briefly put a hand over her sister's. Physical displays of affection in public had always made her uneasy, and from her, it was as good as a hug. Her reply was more sarcastic than sincere, though. "What I want is to be normal every once in awhile."
Nah, that'd be boring. See you girls at dinner.
The weather mage's eyes seemed to lose their green tint, their foster brother's presence quickly receding in the direction of the garden as they pulled in the drive of their three story manse. The serving man, Rod, helped Tris unload the packages and carry them into the kitchen as Daja took care of the donkey and left the beast in his stall with plenty of fresh hay and water. The cart she moved back beside the small stable under a low overhang, the harness cleaned and hung up neatly on its pegs.
To the forge, the smith mage went with her packages, but the hours flew by until it was dinner time, and they were once more together with their missing sister as well.
Briar and Tris occupied one side of the table, Sandry and Daja on the other. The talk was light, as were their hearts, with as much being said by the mind as it was with the voice.
"Pass the bread, and the leeks and the carrots," the ex-thief said around a mouthful of chicken.
Greedy.
You'd think he never eats.
The girls all chuckled as the disgruntled plant mage served himself hearty portions of all three. "I've been working hard," he defended himself grumpily.
"You're finally putting on some weight again," Sandry commented, turning her head to the side slightly. "You were so skinny before…"
The ladies didn't seem to mind it… Briar commented, his mouth stuffed to the brim as he shoveled the leeks and eggs down his throat. He had manners that he could use, when he chose to. Tonight acting like he was still fresh off the street was more in response to them nit-picking him more than anything else.
"I don't care what you do with whom, but I don't ever want to know about it," Daja said firmly, waving her fork in his direction. "Your business is your own; keep it that way."
I was just saying…
"Back on the topic of clothes," Sandry broke in with a businesslike look. She had already made certain that her siblings staying in Emelan would be provided for, which left only the stubborn weather witch. "I know you won't be around, Tris, but I could still make you some new gowns for winter and have them sent over as long as your size doesn't change." Realizing the irony in that statement, she amended, "More than usual, anyways."
It had taken time to accept the fact that Tris' weight would never be a consistent thing. Her magic could burn through several pounds in a week, if she used it, especially her braids, and once she had tried to keep it off rather than allow it to come back naturally. What she had not realized at the time was that refusing to allow her body to build up fat stores had meant it only had her muscle to eat through when she needed to perform a large feat of magical strength again. She hadn't planned on using half her braids at the time, but she also hadn't planned on a canyon wall trying to crush them in a minor earthquake. The result had been months of recovering and physical healing and a hard lesson learned. Magic has a price, and hers was directly paid from her body. More than the wrinkle and stain resistant fabric her sister wove, Tris appreciated the way Sandry now tailored the clothes to look right over a rather wide range of sizes, knowing her weight could fluctuate by 20 or 30 lbs in a matter of weeks and occasionally days.
"You've already given me plenty," the weather witch replied, setting aside her utensils as she finished her meal and prepared to undertake the old argument. "I do not need so many clothes."
"But I enjoy making them!"
Here they go… Briar murmured to Daja, who was politely ignoring them as she immersed herself in her hot tea. A caravan had passed through Summer Sea last month, and she intended to enjoy their present of a brick of real Trader tea until it was gone.
Tris' sharp glance let him known it hadn't been as quiet as he thought. "Then make clothes for someone who needs them. Mila, Sandry, there are children on the streets who don't even have a single decent shirt…"
"You know I donate several pieces every year to multiple charities in the city," her sister responded as the familiar argument ran its course. "Besides, how can I provide for others when you won't let me provide for you?"
"I am well provided for already, Sandry."
"Just a few gowns, Tris, you need some more color in your clothes."
How long do you think they'll go at it? Briar asked Daja with a smirk.
Not too much longer, my money's on Tris. Sandry's been looking over tax accounts all day.
Ah.
Five minutes later the stitch witch had backed off, for the moment, and Tris enjoyed the raspberry tart they had for dessert with a singularly satisfied smile.
Who bet on who? Tris inquired curiously when she noticed Briar passing half his dessert to their resident smith mage.
She called you first. Briar grumped with a shrug. I could've sworn it was about time for Duchess to win for a change…
Tax time. Tris and Daja chorused together, exchanging bemused smiles after they did.
"You can stop talking about me now," Sandry sighed, giving Briar the rest of her tart with a frown. Raspberry wasn't her favorite to begin with and losing diminished her appetite even more. "It's not as if I can't hear you."
"You'll bully her into it next time," Daja consoled her sister teasingly. "You've got a whole year to get ready for it, too."
"Yes, because I will be defenseless in a year's time," Tris muttered, rolling her eyes as Chime glided into the room and landed on her shoulder. "Had enough to eat?"
The glass dragon tinkled back at her in soft tones, giving a short nod of its head. Her belly bulged with coloring agents and nitre.
"You know, sometimes, I think she really understands what we're saying," Daja mused, running a finger along the creature's neck when she gracefully winged down to the table. Chime purred in pleasure, the glass-like tones ululating gently through the room.
"I think she does," Sandry agreed, petting the odd creature as well.
"At least enough to know when we're not happy about her poking her snout in our stores of supplies," Briar added with a smirk. Chime turned towards him with a look of pure affront, and he laughed lightly. "Oh, don't look at me like that; you're still lovely either way."
The dragon seemed satisfied with that and turned her attentions back to those caressing her lithe body.
"I hate to leave her behind, but there's no good explanation I can give for her presence," the weather mage murmured as she watched Chime sadly.
"You'll have to dye your hair again," Briar teased her, tugging one coppered curl at the base of her neck with a wink. "Black, wasn't it?"
She made a face, wrinkling her nose as she did. "That's probably the worst part of the whole experience. I'm already pale enough as it is; the darker hair makes me look like death warmed over." She pretended not to notice when he stole the last bite of tart from her plate, having already finished his own and Sandry's.
Daja laughed and told her it would serve her right for leaving them again. Tris muttered something about selfish siblings under her breath, and Sandry just smiled and told her she would be more than happy to make her a gown to go along with her new black hair. Briar seemed content to sit back and let them go at it, smirking occasionally and keeping out of it for the most part. He knew better than to draw their attention when it came to clothes. He always accepted Sandry's gifts. It was easier that way, but rarely wore the fanciest of them. Fancy clothes didn't belong in a garden, when you were going to do work, and he had plenty of old comfortable clothes for that. Plants didn't care how patched your knees were.
A week later, the scenario was much the same; except, it was around the Duke's table in his smaller dining room, and their teachers had joined them to send Tris off. Her ship was to leave early the next morning and only Daja and Briar would be present to see her aboard. The rest bid her a fond farewell that night, and amid the hugs, hidden tears, and threats to hang her in a well if she didn't come back or take proper care of herself, there was a peace knowing her family accepted her as she was. Niko, again, tried to press her to accept an invitation to stay with an old friend of his during her year of study, and again, she declined. Staying somewhere other than the student district or dormitories would make her stand out, which was the last thing she wanted.
The ride home was silent, all three leading their horses side by side through the relatively empty streets all the way to their home on Cheesemen Street. To bed they went, Tris promising once more she would wake them, if they did not wake themselves, so she wouldn't be at the docks by herself. The dark passed quickly, though, and soon, a bleary eyed Briar was stumbling into the kitchen and gulping down the scalding cup of tea Tris shoved in his hands with a mutter of thanks.
"You'd think a plant mage would rise with the sun," Daja teased, looking only slightly more awake as she finished tying up her boots and sent Rod out to ready the cart and donkey.
"I like my sleep," Briar grumbled to himself. "What's wrong with that?" The tattoos on his hands, reflecting his mood, kept its flowers tightly closed among the shifting vines and leaves.
"Get your shoes on, or we're leaving you here," Tris said, giving him a gentle shove back towards his room and heading for her own to grab the last of her bags. She heard a shout in the courtyard as she went up the stairs, and a stray breeze brought her a glimpse of her foster sister seated on her mare outside. Rolling her eyes, she had told Sandry not to bother making the ride out, Tris just continued on her way and came back downstairs when she was sure she had everything she needed.
Tris!
The weather mage rolled her eyes again. Coming.
"I told you not to make the ride out," she said in a scolding tone as she descended to the ground floor. "You have so much to do at the Citadel…"
"There's…been a message, Tris," Sandry broke in, shoving a letter in her hands. "Uncle's already sent for Niko and the others, and a lawyer to see just how binding it is. There's only a month, but I'm sure we can find something…"
"Slow down and say that again," Briar broke in, clearly puzzled as he and Daja came up on either side of the weather mage. "What's this about a lawyer? Coppercurls hasn't done anything wrong."
"At least not since Namorn," Daja added with a wry grin. "But all of us were involved in that."
"She didn't do anything," Sandry explained, fidgeting with the riding gloves in her hands nervously as she watched their red-headed sibling turn white as a sheet. "Tris…?"
"This…can't be right. They're coming," she whispered hoarsely, the letter crumpling in her hands as she blinked furiously.
"Who's coming?" Briar replied, putting a careful hand on her shoulder.
"My parents."
-090-
The four mages gathered with their teachers, Duke Verdis, the Honored Moonstream, and a lawyer versed in Ninverian law in the dining area of their home, chairs crammed around the table, while the staff working themselves into a frenzy to fill a glass for everyone and provide light refreshments on the side. It was almost noon by the time everyone had managed to gather. Tris was anchored on either side by Daja and Briar, and Sandry sat across the way by her uncle, reading a thick sheaf of papers over his shoulder. By the look in her eyes, things did not bode well.
"Thank you for gathering with such speed; there is much to discuss and little time to discuss it in," the Duke said as he rose to his feet. "To bring everyone up to speed, we shall read aloud the letter, and then the contract itself." He motioned to Tris, though the weather mage remained silent and still. Briar gently disentangled the paper from her nerveless hands, handing it to Daja who cleared her throat as she stood.
"To the Head Dedicate of Stone Circle Temple, and all those whom this may concern:
Our daughter Trisana Chandler was left in your care nine years ago. The time has come, with her twentieth birthday approaching this summer, for us to come and meet our child to see what has become of her, as is stated in the contract signed by the Honored Sunstrike of the Broken Circle Temple. We have included with this letter a copy of the contract we have, in case your own has been misplaced. We wish to hear from you within the moon as to the whereabouts and condition of our daughter, so if it is possible, we may begin the process of reclaiming her with all due speed. We are aware, given her previous diagnosis, that this may take some time and are willing to put in the time necessary to make this transition for her as smooth as possible.
Sincerely,
Valden Chandler
"Which seems clear enough to me," the lawyer interjected calmly. "They are coming, and you must hand the young woman in question over to them."
Sandry flew to her feet, eyes flashing as the tablecloth shifted nervously before her. "They may not have her!"
"Unfortunately, they can take her, and there is little you can do about it," the lawyer said dryly as he stood as well. "By your leave, Duke Verdis…?"
"Please do," the older man replied, pulling his niece back into her seat gently.
"The contract reads as thus," the lawyer said firmly, his voice easily carrying to all those in the room. "The Honored Dedicate Wrenwing agreed upon the 21st day of the Harvest Moon that the Stone Circle Temple would have full control over the raising and care of Trisana Chandler for an unknown paid sum until the day of her twentieth birthday at which time the Chandler family may reclaim her as they desire. No further contact is to occur between parents and child until such time."
"Is there more?" asked Daja, leaning back in her chair as she ran one hand over the head of her staff, and her eyes glittered dangerously.
"Yes, there is one added clause," the lawyer replied carefully. "The temple and Trisana Chandler are released from the contract if the young lady decides to take the temple vows, marries a man with the consent of whoever is the holder of the contract, or dies before the day the meeting is to occur."
"How has this gone unnoticed for so long?" Niko's voice was deceptively soft, and the lawyer shifted nervously as he met the famous mage's steel gaze.
Shuffling his papers, the man replied, "With her previous diagnosis of possession or not being entirely human, it is likely the Stone Circle officials doubted the issue would ever come to light. I have looked over the evaluations that were originally done on her and were sent with the letter and a copy of the contract from the temple. It is likely, given their opinions of her mental state, they assumed she would be dead or mad long before such a time. And since Winding Circle Temple did not inform them of their mistake, it was not until a letter arrived from the young woman's parents inquiring as to her whereabouts that it resurfaced again. We have not heard from Stone Circle regarding this matter, but I doubt anything they say will change the contract in the least. The Chandlers are a well-respected and wealthy merchant family; they would not have needed to resort to illegal means to achieve this end."
Lark glanced at the head of her temple as she laid a hand on the too still Rosethorn's arm. "She is in another country, now; surely, you can't…"
"The temple must uphold any contract it signs, even one as foolish as this," Moonstream replied, mouth twisted in a dissatisfied frown. "The terms are clearly set; there is no way around them. Unless, Honored Dedicate Wrenwing was threatened or forced into this somehow, and I doubt that was the case, the contract stands."
"And she has never applied for citizenship in Emelan, so technically, she is still subject to the laws of the Capchen government as a native born citizen," the Duke replied slowly. "There, a young woman is considered to be under the governance of her family, guardian or husband until her twenty-first year of age. We cannot give her sanctuary beyond that of provisional guardianship as such. Guardianship that the contract clearly revokes upon her parents' arrival on, at the latest, her 20th birthday."
"Then we work with what we have," Briar insisted stubbornly. "Couldn't Tris take vows for awhile and leave again after the year is over?"
"The gods are not to be toyed with; I could never allow such a thing to occur," Moonstream replied firmly. "If Miss Chandler wishes to devote herself to the temple under a particular god or goddess, we will welcome her with open arms. But a farcical display of such cannot be tolerated. Vows are for life."
"Death is not an option," Daja stated simply with a shrug. "Though perhaps if we were to fake it…couldn't we simply hide her away for the next year?"
"And how do we explain her sudden disappearance?" asked the Duke carefully. "Ninver, let alone Caphen, is powerful enough to demand answers of us, if the Chandlers decide to get them involved, and the Temple is bound to the truth just as much as I am. Even Nikolaren Goldeye must bow before the laws of the Mage Council and submit true testimony, if asked. Should the four of you decide to escape together, it is likely you would not be able to return for a very, very long time. And that does not include the potential political ramifications of such an action. Even after your return, you four would no longer be trusted, and perhaps, even be censured by the Mage Council for your actions."
"Lark, Frostpine and I could not help you with such an escape, either," Rosethorn added softly. "We are bound by the law as much as Niko and the Duke. And might perhaps even be charged with finding you, knowing your magic the best, as we do. There can be no order without law, and you are not above those laws, no matter how powerful you four are."
"What about the mage council, then?" Daja asked quickly. "Doesn't our status as an accredited mage also grant us status as adults?"
"No, it grants you the responsibility to act like an adult with your magic," Niko replied softly. "I have already looked into it, and it will not hold. Getting your medal does not also give you full status as an adult in any city or country the Mage Councils exist in. Likely, because most people do not attain that status until well after reaching the age of adulthood in their homeland. Without a precedent, I am afraid it will not do."
"And why can't we set the precedent?" Briar looked to the lawyer as he said this, but the man was already shaking his head.
"Since the acquisition of your medals, it is clear that, while you have all acted with great responsibility for the most part with your abilities, the Mage Council itself has still treated you as children. Even in your trip to Namorn, which Master Goldeye and I discussed at length, it is obvious that you did not face the legal repercussions you likely would have had they considered you full adults for some of your actions there. Actions that, I also understand, you likely would not have had to take had you been treated as adults and not as partially grown children. Can any of you deny this? You are able, when the situation requires it, to use your medals to force others to listen to you. Somewhat. But only in the very recent past has the mage community as a whole begun to recognize you as fully qualified members. Because such was not the case from the beginning, we cannot build upon it now."
"What about seeking sanctuary from an abusive situation?" asked Sandry quickly, ignoring the scowl Tris sent her way. Few knew of her scars, and she wished to keep it that way, but Sandry decided Tris' pride could stuff it in the face of the current need. "Couldn't the temple have grounds to protect her then?"
Moonstream's mouth tightened, but again she shook her head. "We have no written record of mistreatment from before she was given over to our care, and no attempt made to prosecute those responsible when she first came into our care. Trying to put together a case now makes the accusation look like something put together simply to protest this contract, which it would be. There is no magistrate in Emelan who would negate the contract on such terms, especially against such a powerful family without significant proof."
"Tris?" asked Briar, the plant mage having watched his silent sister from the start. She flinched involuntarily when he laid a vine-covered hand over hers. "Are you…?"
"I need to go meditate," she said as she quickly rose to her feet, jerking her hand free before retreating down the hall and up the stairs ahead of any protests.
"I'll go with her," Briar offered, jumping to his feet quickly. "You guys keep thinking, we'll be back in a bit."
"I don't know what you're hoping to find," the lawyer said, putting his books and the contract aside. "The Chandlers were very thorough, your options are clear. Death or vows, be it to a deity or a man. Surely, there's a likely lad you could hurry things along with...?"
"Tris has no suitors," Daja replied flatly after the room fell uncomfortably silent for a moment. "She is a very…unique individual."
"There is always a way out," Sandry broke in, clearly frustrated as she motioned to the contract and the tablecloth slid it towards her obligingly. "Our sister will remain with us, and it will be on our terms. Perhaps, there is something in the Ninver laws regarding such contracts, so let's keep looking."
-090-
"So, how're you feeling?" asked Briar when he finally located his foster sibling on her balcony overlooking the gardens in the back. It was midmorning now, and the sun shone brightly with a pleasant breeze. She stared miserably into the distance, bracing herself against the railing. The look she gave him was enough to make him chuckle weakly. "Ah, silly question, right?"
"I want to wake up and find this to be a horrible nightmare," she whispered hoarsely. "For years, I dreamed of being accepted by my parents or any of my family, really. I had given up hope until I was brought to Winding Circle. There I found a new family." She gave him a weak smile when he put his hand over hers, watching purple and blue flowers blossom to life along his knuckles. "A better one. But now…"
"They set it up so you couldn't find them until they thought you would be of use again," Briar pointed out dryly. "I don't consider that being accepted, I'd call it being used."
"They may have changed," she mused, eyes taking on a calculating look. Briar snorted, and she glared at him. "I'm trying to be positive about this, Briar."
"Why?" he replied, calmly settling beside her on the railing. "We'll find a way around this. We always do."
"If a Chandler wrote that contract, then the only ways out are the ones listed on that paper," she said, her voice even and low. "I won't kill myself, that's a coward's way out, and I won't run away and risk damaging the reputations of those who have helped me over the years. The temple I might survive for awhile, but I am not meant to be a dedicate any more than you. I would resent it far longer than I would be grateful for the protection it afforded me. I don't want to live my life in regret."
Briar had to force his voice to be casual as he asked, "What about getting married?" As a general topic of discussion, many of their conversations on this topic had ended in either Tris teasingly telling him the girl was not going to marry him or him saying marriage was impractical for mages even though he didn't really believe it. When she agreed, he knew it was because she believed she would never find someone to marry, regardless. Given her current track record of suitors, he found it hard to argue with her sometimes.
"If I thought I had a decent chance with a tolerable man I would accept it," she admitted with a shrug. "Living together for a year could be done, I'd even consider paying someone to play the part, the problem is I have no such man. Even the mages we know here in Emelan who are close to our age...they're more than wary of me. And a non-mage...there is too much they wouldn't understand. Kethlun might have agreed to it; he's a lightning mage now, too, and he understands. Only, he's not here."
"Not even that Dunlan fellow you told me about awhile back?" he asked, his voice just a hint too sweet. Truth be told, he usually never teased her about men; it was too sore a subject. Something about having her former student mentioned as an option pricked painfully, and he couldn't help the bit of spite in his words. "I thought he was all but courting you."
She smacked his shoulder, weakly, but he pretended it hurt, nonetheless. A tongue was stuck out in return, and he smiled. "Someone let my full name slip to him, and he said he couldn't handle knowing his someday wife could tie up storms in her hair. We haven't spoken since."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that…" Innocence never suited him well, and he knew it.
Tris snorted in a most unladylike fashion, but she was smiling with her eyes as well as her lips now. "Don't lie, Briar, you didn't like him from the moment I said he was a son of a bag."
"He did sound a little…feminine…" The fussy pose he adopted was meant to entertain, and it did. She even laughed when he kept going in a fair mimicry of a snooty matron, nose high in the air and chin held sharply to the side sniffing loudly in disapproval. He really had an eye for mimicking the stance and facial expressions of someone, when he wanted to.
"Briar…" She trailed off, inspecting her nail-bitten hands carefully. The smile was gone, but the sadness didn't return. He still counted that a victory. "I've made my decision."
He seemed to pause, ready to argue, then nodded once. "Why don't you go down to the garden, read a bit in the shade? The others can wait an hour or two; they won't want to listen until then, anyways."
"What? That's it?" she replied, honestly surprised by his lack of reaction. "I'm almost disappointed."
"Are you sure of your decision?" he asked.
"No," Tris admitted. "But I don't know what else to do."
"Go," he said, pushing her towards the steps that led directly to the yard below, where the breeze ruffled the bushes and flowers invitingly. The lavender was in bloom, and he knew by now the scent would have perfumed the air nicely. Tris liked the smell of lavender. "I'll keep them off your back for a bit."
"Thank you."
Briar was still standing there when he saw his copper-haired sibling settle herself beneath the largest tree in their fenced in yard, and he smiled. It disappeared, though, when a familiar presence came beside him.
"She's made her choice," he said as Rosethorn leaned on the railing next to him where Tris had been only moments before. "What have the others found?"
"Nothing good," his teacher replied with the stolid flatness she usually reserved for unpleasant duties. "The Chandler family, it seems, works like most merchant families do, there is one head of the family who makes most of the important decisions. Should the old head have been alive, the Duke and Temple might be able to convince him that such a venture as trying to reclaim their 'lost' daughter could be too costly. However, he died and named Tris's father, Valden, as his successor. Apparently, he is a very clever man. He has nearly tripled the worth of their various ventures since coming to the fore and gotten them into politics as well. Well connected in both the financial district and among the Ninver nobility, his potential for making trouble only grows with each new thing we learn. Verdis did point out that the man is known not only for his honesty, for a merchant, but also for his ability to turn a profit on almost anything."
"Is that all?" he asked, clearly upset.
"Unfortunately, no." Rosethorn ran a hand over her face, sighing as she did. "Niko looked into her future, boy, and could make nothing out, good or bad. That is not unusual, of course, but considering he did not peer very far… it concerns us that even the next month before her is so uncertain." Silence fell between them, though she glanced at him, noting the way his fingers drummed against the rail and his teeth worried his lower lip. Black and white buds bloomed and died away as he struggled with something inside that his teacher couldn't see. "Briar…?"
"It would be worth it, if only to keep her with us," he replied slowly, meeting the shorter dedicate's gaze firmly. "Where is Niko?"
"Downstairs," she replied, nodding slowly as she caught on to the idea brewing in his eyes. "Go, I'll keep an eye on her for you."
"Thank you."
"Briar," she said, her words pausing his footsteps. "You may lose a sister, if you do this."
"Daja and Sandry will see the wisdom of it, eventually, even if it does make things awkward for a time," he said, disappearing downstairs.
The old plant mage shook her head slowly, watching the red-headed woman as she shifted on the grass beneath the tree. "It wasn't them I was worried about…"
-090-
Tris sat on her balcony as the moon rose in the star speckled sky, mulling over the last few hours as she nursed a mug of tepid tea. Sandry had argued, Daja had glared, but in the end they had relented to her insistence. One by one, the rest had given in as well. The lawyer had congratulated her on being sensible before taking his leave quickly. Rosethorn had been silent, her face an unreadable mask, and Niko unusually introspective, but she had no illusions that this would be easy for them.
In a matter of weeks, her parents would come for her, and for the next year, she would go with them and obey as she must. It was the only way to satisfy the contract and still keep the honor of all involved.
Coppercurls?
You can come in, she replied, absently toying with one of the lightning braids as she listened to him make his way through her dark study.
"Daja thought you might be hungry since you never came down to eat," he said as he set a tray beside her with a covered plate, a fresh mug of tea, and a small box. She glanced at the tray more out of habit than actual desire. Despite missing a meal, her stomach felt full of lead. The odd object out caught her eye, though, and her hand paused over it hesitantly.
"What is this?" she asked, tapping the cube-like container.
"My decision," he replied. "You can say no, if you really want to, but I will do whatever it takes to keep you with us."
Tris's eyes wandered from his face, to the box and back again. "Briar, what are you…?"
"I already said it; I'm making my decision," he said, kneeling down beside her and picking up the box when she made no move towards it. Placing it in one nail-bitten hand, he cupped the other around it and pulled off the lid. Moonlight glinted off of something shiny, and her breath caught.
"Briar, this is a very poor joke."
"I'm dead serious."
"I can't marry my brother!"
"That's just it, though," he said softly. "I'm not really your brother, not in the way it matters for this."
Inside, nestled among the soft velvet folds, was a traditional Capchenian marriage collar with a glass pendent hanging from the middle. The collar itself was made of a dark gray metal in flat links the width of her thumb, plain but beautifully made. Polished to a high sheen, it glinted brightly in her hands as she moved to inspect the pendant itself. The stone was a dark green, well cut to reflect the light and shine with an inner brightness. On one side, it was inscribed with the rune for love, the other protection.
"This is…"
"The one you picked out before, right?" he said, his grin becoming quite self satisfied as he moved to put it around her neck. "Didn't think I'd remember, did ya?"
Tris let him as she remembered the day Sandry had insisted the four of them go shopping together for her Uncle's birthday and dragged them through Emelan's best jewelry shop along the way. The excited stitch-witch had pointed out some of her favorites among the engagement rings Emelan was known for, then asked for the other's opinions as well. Daja had pointed out that Traders exchanged bracelets for their ceremony, and Briar had shrugged and said all the glitter looked pretty much the same to him. Sandry had then turned to the weather witch, remembering that Capchen customs were different than those of Emelan, and dragged her to the corner that hosted a few such collars. Tris had never actually picked one, but her eyes had been drawn to the dark gray collar for several moments. Briar had teased her that he would remember to tell the fellow she was going to marry about it some day.
"The others approved?" she asked, her voice a breathless squeak.
"They'd rather see you stuck with me than ever hand you back to your family," he replied with a cheeky grin. "Like you said, living one year with another person is doable. This way you don't even have to move, and everybody stays happy."
"Briar…" she flushed, looking down at her hands. "What about…for appearances sake…?"
"Niko explained that to me," he admitted dryly. "Not that it hadn't already occurred to me, I'm not an idiot. I won't say I'll enjoy being celibate for a year, but I can do it for your sake. We'll have to share a room and a bed; I'm not giving your family a single cause for complaint, but it's not like we haven't before. All four of us, for that matter."
"I don't think all four of us would fit in the same bed anymore," she snorted, remembering the nights when the nightmares would visit them all. Visions of dead pirates, a flaming forest, the earthquake and their Teacher dying flooding their minds. Together, they would huddle in usually Tris's bed, the weather witch too stubborn to admit she needed help. With Sandry's light and the comfort of their combined presences, the rest of the night would pass with peaceful dreams and undisturbed sleep.
"It's a good thing it'll just be two of us, then," he replied lightly. "So, is that a yes?"
"I don't want you to put yourself through this for my sake," she argued, refusing to meet his gaze as she reached up to remove the collar. "It's not fair for me to ask that of you…"
His hands gently stopped hers, wrapping firm, calloused hands around each wrist. "So you'd pay some random guy or ask your student to marry you, but you won't marry me. I'm that unappealing, am I?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, but his smile couldn't entirely hide the hurt in his words.
Tris turned bright red. "No! No, I just...I didn't mean-" Abruptly, she swallowed whatever she had been about to say. Instead, she sighed, "Briar, I can't accept..."
"I left you behind once because it wasn't you they were really after," he said as he drew her hands back down to her lap. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, but there wasn't a better choice. This time there is, and I'm making it. Will you or will you not marry me, Trisana Chandler?"
-090-
Author's Note(s):
I saved this for the end of the first chapter as I didn't want to have a chapter that was more author's note than story content. It just feels unprofessional to me. However, I did feel like there were a few important things to mention before we got too far in this story.
First up: The rating. This may or may not venture into solid 'M' territory by the end. It is, at the very least, going to be a very strong PG-13. To err on the side of caution, I am making the rating M. Don't like it? Don't read it.
Second: If you're quick of eye, you noticed that there's already 20 some chapters in various states of completion that I mentioned previously. Am I going to spam post them? No. But in the words of the wise Sea Folk: Let's make a Bargain. Read more below.
Third: I will reply to all signed reviews by PM this time around. I will not include review replies to unsigned reviews at the end of each chapter. Want a reply? Sign in. Don't have an account? Get one. It's free and easy.
Fourth: I do have a Beta. Any mistakes that make it past both of us I apologize for in advance. No am I not looking to replace my Beta, we've been writing together for over a decade and there is nothing you can say to convince me to switch to you. Sorry.
Fifth: There isn't a fifth. I just like the word 'fifth'. It is fun to say and spell.
The Bargain: This is not a slapped together story. It is the work of years, set aside and brought out again multiple times as I honed my ideas and writing ability for the best possible result. The chapters average 25 pages, and the story will probably end around 25-30 chapters in length. This final push to complete it is the result of suddenly having hours of time that I couldn't use constructively dumped in my lap. Lucky for you guys, I guess. So, this is the deal. Every week, on Friday, I will post a chapter. "But CB," you might say, "That means I'll have to wait half a year to finish this story!" Yes, that is true. Which is where your part comes in. At the end of every chapter, I will set a review goal. If that chapter meets the review goal, I will immediately post the next chapter if it is complete. However, I do have a few rules.
Each review needs to be an actual review. As in, you need to tell me at least one specific thing you liked about the story. 'It was good, post more' will not cut it. If I can spend weeks on a chapter, you can spend five minutes giving me your actual thoughts in complete sentences. I won't judge spelling and grammar, but an effort needs to be made. Spam reviews will also not count. As in, if you write a nice review and then post it five times, it will not count as five reviews. It will count as one.
I think that's everything. I hope you all enjoyed, and I look forward to posting the next chapter for you all soon (get reviewing, hinthint!).
~CB~
Review Goal for Chapter 2: 30
