It's so exciting that Dragon Queen went well enough to bother continuing this thing! Oh boy, have I got some exposition for you, readers. ;D

The title of this installation will become clear down the road, though you may begin to guess at it soon enough. We will actually see a little magic in this first chapter, as well as some old and new acquaintances. There is a bit of catch-up to do first, as quite a lot of time has passed by this point, so let's just dive into the meat and potatoes, shall we?

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Chapter 1: Six Months Later…

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The bells of Habaharan were just beginning to toll, calling the Zebak capital city to wake from its slumber. The sun was rising steadily over the city, even earlier than it had the day before; it rose earlier and set later with each passing day, and the nights were shorter and warmer because of it. The summer solstice was only days away now.

Star heard the bells in the distance, but ignored them. She had already been up for a while, preparing for the day ahead, and was just finishing as the bells began to chime. She had dressed herself in a frilly summer frock, striped stockings, and laced up boots, and tied up her long brown hair with lacey bows. She looked like nearly any other young girl in Southside. Now, as she faced the mirror in her attic apartment, she held a small wooden box of cosmetics to finish her appearance.

It was a funny thing, she thought as she ringed her pale eyes with black kohl. Such fashion would have caused an outrage if she had been in her homeland. She was only half Zebak; but her other half was of Rin, far away in the west. Her father's sturdy people preferred rough living, and valued strength and hard work above all else. They had no time to waste on fashion and cosmetics. If they knew that she now took an hour to dress before work, they would be thoroughly ashamed of her.

The people of Habaharan believed very differently, though. Only the lowest, most pitiful of slaves hadn't the time to make themselves up every morning. The Zebak were a prosperous people, and almost all of them had the time and money to spare on improving their looks. Such things were a social custom to them, especially among their women and young girls. If Star wanted to appear like the rest of them—which she did—it was a necessary change.

She heard a groan behind her and turned to look. Still asleep in pallets on the floor, her two cousins were moaning in annoyance at the sound of the bells.

"Oh, that blasted noise," Alanis complained, pulling her pillow over her head. "Why can't these people just learn to rise by the sun, like normal folk? You can hardly miss seeing it here!"

"Just ignore it," Leah sighed beside her, not opening her eyes. "It will pass soon enough. It always does."

Satisfied that they weren't going to really wake up any time soon, Star turned back to the mirror and looked herself over. She had to admit, she liked the way she looked much better than she used to. Not that there had been anything wrong with her looks before, but she felt that the cosmetics definitely improved her face. She liked the way her eyes looked now, shaded with pale pink powder and lined with kohl. She also liked having her hair tied in bows and ribbons, the way she had always wanted to have it. She had hoops of gold hanging from her ears, and a matching chocker around her neck, which went well with the round shape of her face, and somehow made her look more grown up.

Star smiled with satisfaction at her reflection. She looked pretty and put together, and wouldn't stand out in any way.

Except she noticed one thing out of place, and leaned closer to the mirror for a better look at the fake mark on her face. It was a simple line of black, from her hairline to the tip of her nose, stained there with black henna by her hostess. It was the same mark that all Zebak people bore from the time they were five years old, a feature that she simply couldn't do without in this place. The henna was far better than lamp grease or kohl, which smudged all too easily, and lasted for weeks without fading. On closer inspection, though, it seemed that those weeks were passing quickly. Her mark was beginning to fade.

Star sighed at this. It will still suffice for now, she decided, but I'll have to talk to Ofelia about it. She will have to help me apply more henna tonight, before I go to sleep. I should mention it to Forley, too. Our false marks were put in place at the same time; so if mine is already fading, his will be, too.

Taking care not to disturb her cousins, she slowly, quietly opened the attic door and made her way downstairs.

In the bakery on the ground floor, the rest of the household had already been up and hard at work since before she had gotten out of bed. She found her cousin Forley in the kitchen, whistling merrily to himself as he pulled trays of bread from the oven.

"Ah, good, you're awake," he greeted brightly when he saw her. "You should head to the front, sister. Ofelia and her father could use a hand with the morning crowd."

"Do you need any help with that, brother?" she asked first.

"Oh, I have this well in hand. In all seriousness, though, the door is about to open and there is already a line halfway down the block. It will be a glorious rush; and they will prefer to be served by a pair of pretty girls, rather than only one pretty girl and a cantankerous old man who barely speaks their language."

Star shrugged in agreement and hurried toward the front of the shop. There she found Ofelia, her courageous hostess, and her aging father bustling around, making the shop ready for the crowd outside. The father and daughter hardly noticed her at first, as they snapped back and forth in their native tongue. Star had lived with them long enough to pick out a word here and there, but still didn't entirely understand what they were saying.

If only they were grach, or birds, or alley cats, she thought with a smirk. Then I would understand them perfectly.

Ofelia finally looked up and noticed the girl, and sighed with relief.

"Thank the stars you are finally here," she exclaimed. "I was about to go up there and get you, myself. Didn't you hear the bells, girl? In a few minutes, we will be overrun!"

"Of course I made it on time," Star answered mildly. "When have I ever let you down?"

Smiling her thanks, Ofelia shooed her father off to the kitchen, where he would be more useful. The old man was a skilled baker, and ran a reputable business; but he had a terrible temper, and dealt poorly with his customers. Ofelia had always been much better at managing the counter, taking orders, and sending their patrons off with a smile, while her father remained in the kitchen making their product.

"Now, then," Ofelia said thoughtfully, counting on her fingers. "The boxes are stocked; tea and abrasha are brewed; money is counted; floors are swept… The second batch coming out of the oven just now, yes?"

"I believe so."

"And the third is being started?"

"Between the two of them, I think they'll have it knocked out in no time."

Ofelia sighed resolutely and straightened her hair and skirt. "Very well, then. It was a near thing this morning, but I think we can finally open for the day. Hang onto your skirt, girl, I'm opening the door."

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Meanwhile, not very far away, another crowd gathered in the house of the Garased family. Squad C-57 had just left their place on the city wall, as the Day Watch replaced the Night Watch. The ten men and women were tired from their long, uneventful night on the wall, and burning with hunger. They sprawled together on the couch, chairs and cushions around the upstairs common room, unstrapping their boots, stripping off their jackets, and tossing their caps carelessly on the floor.

"Twelve whole hours," complained Zhena, as she unstrapped a glowing ruby from her hand, "and not a peep from any direction. If only they would let us eat on duty. I'm starved half to death!"

"You always are," replied Zacheal, as he settled himself into his chair. "Not surprising, in a Fire spirit as feisty as yourself.

Zhena smirked back at him. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Zak huffed to himself, lying exhausted on the floor, because every other seat had been taken already. "She has a point, though," he said, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. "I'm starving, too. Zamiel, isn't there any food in this house of yours?"

Zamiel Garased, their clever captain, smiled in amusement. "A little, but not enough for so many people. I know where we can get some, though. Zan, Zaneth, if you are feeling up to it, skip down to the bakery and buy us some bread."

Even though they were also tired, his two younger brothers got up at once, happy to be of help. Zamiel dug in his pocket for some coins to give them.

"We can take a jug along for abrasha, too, if you'd like," Zaneth suggested helpfully. But Zamiel looked over the coins in his hand and shook his head sadly.

"We've only one arin and two dazileft until we are paid again," he answered. "We have to make it last. Ask Ofelia for two loaves of bread. If she is willing, she may slip us a few eggs and some meat; but we can't ask her to spare the expense on abrasha today."

He handed the three coins to Zaneth, who nodded shortly and headed for the stairs. As Zan was moving to follow, Zamiel held him back for a moment.

"Try not to tarry too long," he warned with a smile. "We are all hungry, and your friends will be as fine as they always are."

Zan rolled his eyes, sarcastic as usual. "I still wouldn't call them all my friends," the boy grumbled, and hurried after his brother.

As soon as the boys were gone, the rest of the company groaned in disappointment.

"That is a pity," Zione sighed in her thick accent. "After a long night, abrasha is just what I would like most."

While his friends mumbled in agreement, Zamiel bit back a sigh of his own. The dark, energizing brew called abrasha was widely enjoyed in the city, but was usually expensive. He would have liked to treat his squad to it, but regretted that he simply couldn't afford it at the moment. He also knew that the rest of them would have chipped in for it, but their own pay was running just as short as his own. He firmly resolved to make up for it another time.

After a moment, Zane stretched his arms and yawned. "Not that this hasn't been an invigorating watch, my friends, but I'm afraid I must leave you early this morning," he said, rising from the couch. "My darling Pila wasn't well last night, and was sad to see my leave. My wife and other children have been missing me, as well, and I should hurry home to them."

"That's alright," Zak insisted, jumping up to take Zane's place on the couch. "Do say hello to them for me, and for us all. I'll keep your spot warm for you."

The rest of the squad laughed lightly over this, and Zane hurried to leave. Zamiel stopped his deputy before he could get very far, with regret in his face.

"If you family has been missing you lately, it is my fault," he said. "If you need some time to yourself, I understand completely."

Zane shook his head. "No, no, it's quite alright. It's all for a good cause. I would walk alone into the wastelands and leave them forever, if it meant my children could walk freely."

Zamiel laughed and let the man go on his way. "Of course, you would. You know how to do it now."

Zane smiled knowingly over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs. "My children are enjoying the tales, you know. We've been reading them on my off-nights, before they go to sleep. Perhaps we will read another chapter or two this morning, before I go to sleep, myself."

After he had left, Zamiel faced the company again and cleared his throat.

"Well, then, food is on the way, and we have a few minutes to ourselves," he announced. "Now is as good a time as any to speak of our present project. We all know what we are to do, am I correct?"

The rest of the squad nodded in agreement, and they all reached in their pockets to pull out folded pieces of paper he had given them the night before.

"Very good. Be sure to pass the message around Southside over the next few days. The people are smart enough to find its hidden meaning; but I doubt that any higher ranking guard will give it a second glance. It will seem like gibberish to them, as I have planned it. You have all cracked the code and seen the hidden meaning, I assume?"

The squad nodded in agreement.

"Excellent! I know that Zane understands all this as well, because he helped me form the message and encrypt it. Zan and Zaneth know it, also, and will pass it along to our allies at the bakery, who will spread the word in their turn."

On one of the cushions, Zirita sighed forlornly and shook her head. "Do you really think the Titan's child and her companions will help us here?" she asked. "They owe us nothing; and if what Zan says is true, that black-haired girl still hates us with a passion."

"Alanis can do little to help us in any case," Zamiel replied. "She has been hidden in the bakery's attic for months, and cannot go outside without causing a disaster. But Star and Forley are another deal completely. They have been enthusiastic about our cause so far, and have been of great help; and so has Leah, for that matter. Whatever Alanis has to say about it, they will understand the new assignment, and will carry it out. I trust in that."

Zirita pinned him with a dubious look. "Why should you trust them? You hardly even know the two of them. Zan knows them better than you do!"

"I am willing to trust them because they are willing to trust me. And Zeel has been willing, also."

A gasp of pleasant surprise came from a man on the couch. "You've spoken with the Moakel woman about it?" he asked excitedly.

"Naturally, Rivan," Zamiel agreed. The man's name was also Zach; and so Zamiel usually called him by his family name, to avoid confusion. "I meet with her at least once a week, and she has been just as helpful and trustworthy as her daughter in all things."

In one of the chairs, Zara raised her hand to interrupt. "How is she doing, anyway?" the woman asked. "Most of us have never even seen her before, but you seem to know her well by now."

Zamiel rubbed his neck, choosing his words carefully. "She is doing well," he answered. "She is settled and safe, and she wishes you all well, in spite of the trouble we've caused her."

Zara made a thoughtful face. "How have you managed to keep her location secret for so long? If I am right, you and Ofelia are the only ones who know where she is—and Star and her cousins are all right there, in the bakery! It seems impossible that you could deceive them for so long."

"I know," Zamiel agreed heavily. "In the afternoons after I have seen Zeel, having to face Star and the others is a terrible drain. But we have managed it. I still feel it is too dangerous to reunite them yet. Besides, we have kept the secret for this long. It is a good sign to me. We have all carried on for a long time in secrecy like this; if we can keep going in a similar manner, we may be able to pull this revolution off the way we hope."

Zara thought about this, and then furrowed her brow slightly. "That is all good and well. But don't you think you can trust the rest of us with it? Not even your brothers know where she is."

"I'm afraid I won't risk it," he answered, shaking his head. "Not because I don't trust you. Indeed, I would trust any one of you fine people with anything. It is a matter of your own safety, and our cause. No one person can know all the secrets behind this revolution; it puts that one person in far too much danger. If no one person knows all the secrets, they can't tell all the secrets. You do understand, don't you?"

Slowly, reluctantly, the rest of squad C-57 nodded in silent agreement.

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Elsewhere in Southside, Zeel was sitting alone by a window, reading a wonderful and troubling book by the light of a candle. She had been so absorbed in the achingly familiar words, she hadn't even noticed as the sun had begun to rise, slowly dimming the candle's flame. Only when the bells began to ring did she look up, startled by the noise. She glanced out the window and saw that dawn had already lit the city, and that people were already swarming the streets.

How has that happened? She wondered, scolding herself. It was night time when I started reading. Have I really been awake all night?

She glanced at the thick book in her hand, and decided that it wasn't surprising. This was easily the fifth time she had read it since she had come to Bhlai house, where she now lived in hiding. It was a saga of five incredible tales, bound together in a single tome, and it had become increasingly popular over the last few months. It had been written and published anonymously, and its creator still hadn't come forward; but that hadn't stopped the people of Habaharan from devouring the story with a fever. It had quickly become the best-selling book the city had seen in decades. Even Queen Zadina herself had proclaimed the book a success.

"Clearly, the author has an active imagination," she had said of it recently. "And they have the right idea about our loathsome neighbors in the west—a fearsome, warlike people, to be certain. The way the author has spun together what little fact we have together with imagined fancies is nothing short of genius."

For some reason, Zadina was very impressed with the work, which had been simply and beautifully titled Rowan of Rin. She had gone on to repeatedly call the author to come forward, saying she wanted to reward them for their great work. That person still hadn't revealed their identity, and Zeel didn't blame them for it in the slightest. She wouldn't have wanted to be "rewarded" by the queen, either.

Zadina had little way of knowing that the so-called "imagined fancies" in the book were all completely real, as were all the characters, places, and events. The Zebak were isolated, and knew only what they were told of the world outside their own; but they recognized much of the history in the story, and had mostly guessed that the author had used that well-known history as a basis for a great fantasy. They were also widely impressed that the central hero was the Earth Titan, reimagined as the small, shy little boy they couldn't quite believe in; it had been a risky choice in casting, considering how the Dragon Queen despised him. The author had even brilliantly written a young Zeel Moakel into the tales, no doubt inspired by the woman's return and sudden disappearance months earlier.

Yes, the long, complicated story had caused an enormous sensation in Habaharan. Zeel was sure that there was a copy of the book in every house by now. Anyone in the city who could read well had read it, perhaps numerous times; anyone who couldn't read was listening to the stories being told aloud. It was almost all that some people could talk about. Zeel wasn't sure what it was about her husband's adventures, but it had caught like wildfire and set her people ablaze.

The book's sudden appearance and popularity excited her, too, though for a very different reason. These certainly weren't tales of pure fantasy—they were the very adventures she had lived through, herself, told exactly as she knew they had happened. The discussions and conversations weren't the product of a good storyteller's mind, either—she clearly remembered saying some of those lines herself once, word for word. What was more, the narrative voice and prose structure were instantly recognizable to her.

Star had written this. The printing was the work of a machine, typing exactly the same words over and over again; but Zeel knew for a fact that her daughter had chosen those words first. The acclaimed bestseller was the perfect final draft of the Book that Star had dreamed of for so long. And it had been published here, in Habaharan.

That could mean only one thing, in Zeel's mind: there were Rinfolk in Habaharan, hiding somewhere in plain sight, looking for her. She couldn't guess who they might be; if her husband had been one of them, she felt that she wouldn't still be there. But the presence of the Book gave her a frightful suspicion that her daughter might be somewhere nearby. The thought of Star hiding alone in the city, searching desperately for her mother and not finding her, brought tears to her eyes.

Suddenly angry with herself, she placed her hand on her growing belly and rubbed her thumb against it, to keep from tearing at her hair. She was normally such a reasonable, sensible person, nearly impossible to move with simple emotions. In the past few weeks, though, that had changed very much.

It has, indeed, been six months, she thought to herself, and to her unborn child. I remember this from when I carried your sister. The mood swings were unbearable with her, and always made me feel so foolish afterward. I nearly broke your father's nose over a cup of tea, at one point. Remind me to tell you the story, when you're older.

She sighed heavily and returned to her reading. After spending the whole night at it, she was nearing the end, and believed there were only three chapters left before she finished it. Again. She relived the most terrifying and horrible parts of her life whenever she read the book, but loneliness and longing had driven her to do so several times. The past was solid and unchanging, something certain which she could hold onto for comfort. It was a way to still be with her family, husband, and friends, and to see the home she missed so much. It was a way to hear her daughter's voice again.

Just as she was turning the last few pages, an elderly woman came into the sitting room, carrying a loaded tea tray. Seeing Zeel by the window, nearly finished with the thick book, the woman shook her head and clicked her tongue.

"I was afraid I would find you here," she scolded, setting the tray on a low table. "Please tell me you slept last night."

"I'm afraid I forgot to, Thora. I was busy."

"Yes, with that blasted book again," Thora snapped, striding over to snatch it out of her hands. "Zeel, what have I told you? Reading this thing only ever upsets you, and my brother and I with you. This behavior is unhealthy, and I am beginning to worry over you."

"Thora, please, let me have it back," she pleaded, holding out her hand. "It's only three pages more."

"You know those three pages by heart by now, young lady. You lived those pages, for the stars' sake! No, I'm going to put this up where you can't find it. In the meantime, have tea and a few biscuits. Do something good for your health."

With that, Thora smoothed her skirts, as if her snapping had wrinkled them somehow, and walked away with the book tucked under her arm. Zeel sighed in defeat and did as she was told, pouring herself tea and vengefully spreading honey and butter on a biscuit.

It's a pity. Those last pages are really my favorite part of that adventure, because that was when we got to go home. And Forley was born only a few weeks later. It was a busy, exciting time for those of us who stayed in the village. It was like a small adventure of its own, and we all changed a great deal in that time.

Her mood swung without warning from anger and annoyance to sadness. She wondered how much things had changed in Rin since she had been abducted. She wondered how her family was coping with her loss, if they were coping at all. Rowan was anxious on his best days, and Star had a temper of her own; she couldn't imagine what they had been doing with themselves all this time, or the range of emotions they had cycled through. And she wondered furiously for the thousandth time who among them had dared to come after her, and brought the Book along with them.

She prayed that Star wasn't one of them, but hoped at the same time that she was. Zeel missed her daughter terribly, and longed to see her again. She had thought for many weeks that she might never get that wish, but now it seemed very possible that it had been granted, after all. She just hadn't wanted to be reunited like this, trapped in a foreign land, hiding for her life, and soon to bring another child into the world. If Star really was in Habaharan, that reunion would be very awkward, as well as joyful.

A tapping at the window made her spin around in surprise. A pair of children were waiting just outside, trying to get her attention. When she saw them, they grinned at her and waved brightly. She stood up and opened the window, peering down at them in vague amusement.

"Good morning, miss Ferienne," said the taller of the two, a scruffy little girl with pale blue eyes like her own, who had called her by the false name she now went by. "Can we come in, please?"

Zeel leaned against the windowsill and shook her head at them. "Isn't it a little early to be getting into trouble?"

"It's never too early for trouble. Isn't that right, little brother?"

Beside and below her, the unmarked little boy shook his head and smiled up at his sister. They both looked inside, and immediately locked their gaze on the tray of tea and food. Their eyes were wide at the sight of it, and the boy even began to drool. Plainly, they hadn't eaten a proper meal in days. Unable to turn them away, Zeel stood aside for them.

"Come in, come in," she insisted with a sigh, somewhat used to the two of them doing this. "And what mess have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

"We'll tell you in a second," the girl answered, hoisting her brother up to clamber gracelessly through the window. Once he was inside, she vaulted over the sill with ease, and shoved the boy under the chair.

"Quick, close the window!" she instructed, and ducked down after her brother.

Zeel did as the girl had asked, or rather told her to do, and drew the curtain for good measure. She waited a moment, and soon heard several pairs of booted feet running past the house. But those people ran right past, and soon the sound faded away. Beneath the chair, the two children were giggling in triumph.

"We sure fooled them," the girl snickered, popping her head out from under the chair. "And look at what we got from them!"

In her hand was a pocket watch of brilliant gold on a sturdy chain, which she proudly showed off to Zeel.

"I bet we can get two whole arin for the chain, alone," she continued as she climbed out of hiding and sat cross-legged on the floor to look at it properly. "We can eat like the king and queen we are for weeks on that. But I think I'm going to keep the watch. It will look good with the rest of my collection."

The girl's arms, neck, fingers, and ears were already adorned with the rest of her collection. These were all the other things she had stolen over the years, which she liked too much to trade for food or money. For some reason, she only ever wore gold jewelry on her right side, and silver on her left, and always made sure that her many rings and necklaces were alternated properly; she had said once that it was her way of keeping them organized. The child reminded Zeel faintly of Leah, in that way, though the two girls could hardly be less alike.

Zeel wasn't sure how the girl dared to walk around the city looking like that. Surely, with all those jewels over her ragged clothes and ripped stockings, she stuck out like a sore thumb. What guard could be clumsy enough not to notice her, let alone let her get close enough to pickpocket them?

"You know you shouldn't be stealing from people," she said in her most motherly voice. "If you sold your precious collection, you could buy your own house and eat for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, I guess so," the girl answered with a shrug. "But a kid's got to make a living somehow."

"You could work for Thora. She likes you, and would take you in in heartbeat."

"Sounds boring."

The boy came out and tugged on his sister's sleeve. "Sounds nice," he corrected plainly.

"Oh, come on, Zizi," she scoffed, hopping to her feet. "We don't have the patience to sit around and let grown-ups tell us what to do. You know that. Anyway, we only steal from the guards. They deserve it. And if that guy misses his watch so much, he shouldn't have left it hanging out of his pocket, where anyone could snatch it. He was practically asking for it to be taken. Now then, is there any cake on that tray? We're starving!"

Without waiting for Zeel's permission, she glanced over the tray and helped herself to a biscuit. She stuffed the whole thing into her mouth and munched on it loudly as she wandered idly around the room, leaving crumbs behind her.

Zeel shook her head again, at a loss for words. The two thieves usually ran to Bhlai house for shelter whenever they were in trouble. They had been doing so long before she had come there, because Thora found them charming and was willing to help them in small ways. It was the woman's own way of being defiant—by appearing to be a harmless old healer woman, when she actually went out of her way to harbor some of the city's most wanted fugitives.

For all their youth, the brother and sister were infamous in Southside, regularly tricking and robbing the local guards, and then escaping perfectly every time. They were smaller and faster than the guards, and knew all of Southside's best hiding places. What was more, the sister had very useful acrobatic skills, good for making clever getaways. The two were a menace, and there was even a handsome reward for their capture. But the people secretly applauded the havoc they caused, and so none of them ever raised a hand to help stop them. Not even the offer of a year's wages was enough to tempt them.

While the girl went on wandering around, admiring the nice things in the room, Zeel knelt as carefully as she could to offer Zizi the biscuit she had prepared for herself. Smiling his thanks, the boy took it and began to nimble at it slowly, appreciating its flavor, humming in satisfaction.

"Tasty," he said with his mouth full. Moved by his cuteness, Zeel patted his shaggy head.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you've gotten taller since last I saw you," she said. "And I heard something about your birthday, then. How old are you now?"

Zizi grinned proudly. "I'm seven!"

"Seven years old?" she exclaimed. "That is quite an age."

On the other side of the room, his sister scoffed. "That's nothing," she said. "I'm nine and one half. Miss Ferriene, where's Thora?"

"Somewhere in the house, hiding my book from me. She says I read it too much," Zeel answered sourly.

"Yeah, you do," Zizi agreed. "To us. Oh no, does that—does that mean you're not going to read to us some more today? It was just getting good! Rowan was just figuring everything out, and-and the Great Serpent was coming! I just—I just know know it was! Miss Ferriene, go tell Thora to bring—bring the book back!"

Zeel had to smile at his enthusiasm. "For you, perhaps she will give it back. She knows how much you've been enjoying the stories. And she knows that it keeps you both occupied and out of trouble for a few hours."

The girl wandered back to them, making a very thoughtful face as she brushed a few crumbs from her face.

"Miss Ferriene, I've simply got to ask you something. I mean, we all know that's what you call yourself—you've been Ferriene Kisao, ever since you came here. And we've always known that it's not your real name."

"Yes, I know," Zeel answered with a sigh. "We've been through this many times."

"So why can't you just tell us what your name really is, already? Don't you think you can trust us by now?"

"I don't know if I would trust anyone who robs people for a living with that."

"Oh well," the child smiled. "I think I've already guessed it."

"Oh, have you now?"

"Sure. You're Zeel Moakel, aren't you?"

Zeel stared up at the girl, perfectly terrified. "What?" she demanded. "No, I'm not."

The girl laughed. "Of course you are. I've thought a lot about it, and I've finally got it all figured out. Don't you remember when you were brought here? People were so mad about it, they wanted to go marching and have riots—I know I remember it, 'cause I wanted to go marching with them, and was sad when they didn't do it. And then the very next day, here you were. You didn't have a family, or a home, all you had was a name that was clearly made up. I knew that from the beginning. You're always complaining about the bells, too; you've said before that they shouldn't be needed, because of the sun or something."

"Anyone could make that observation."

"And you're always reading Rowan of Rin. You always have it with you."

"So does everyone else in Habaharan."

"And you read the stories to us so well. Like you really get them, you know? Like you know them, because you are the same exact Zeel!"

"Well, the stories are very well written."

"I mean, you look and sound just like I wanted her to. And you're always saying weird stuff about honey and cheese and the wind, like they do in the stories."

"I'm sure lots of people are doing the same, if they like the tales so much."

"Oh, stop doing that," the girl insisted, looking annoyed. "You are the same Zeel from the book. I know that you are. It just makes too much sense, and you can't fool me anymore."

Zizi was gazing up at her in wonder, hoping that his sister's logic was all true. And the girl had pinned her with a look, daring her to make another excuse.

So, I have been discovered, at last, Zeel thought grimly. Who would have thought that a dirty little orphan would be the one to figure it out?

"Very well," she snapped, narrowing her eyes. "You've found me, after all this time. What do you plan to do now? Hand me over to the guards?"

The girl was astounded for a split second, and then began to laugh again. "Hand you over? But you're Zeel Moakel! You're a hero! You're fabulous! And you're such a sweetie, too. I would never do that. Besides, you'd just escape again and come back to put a nasty Traveler's curse on me or something. That would be dumb."

She plopped herself down on the floor, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands.

"You know what's more? I've got some really great news for you. We met some pretty crazy kids a while back, right before we met you. They were with a guard, so I thought I'd try playing a trick on them. But they had magic. Really strong magic. It puzzled me, and Zizi, too; so we've spent a bunch of our time keeping an eye on them. I think they came from the west, just like you did."

Now it was Zeel's turn to pin the child with a look. "What do they look like?"

"Tall and dark-skinned and dark-haired, like the rest of us. They were dressed in fishing jackets then; but we saw right away that they had never fished a day in their lives. They're living and working at a bakery now, not at all far from here. The fancy lady with the golden eyes who comes to see you sometimes lives there, too."

"Ofelia's bakery?" Zeel demanded.

"Yeah, that's the lady. She always chases us away when we come around, so we've had to be real sneaky. And guess what? Not a lot of people would think to peek into their attic, but there are others hiding in there. Two ladies with pale skin, who are definitely not Zebak like us. We've seen them all talking and eating and arguing with each other, while we watch from a distance. Pretty amazing, right?"

Zeel stared at the girl in shock. She had known for a long time that there were Rinfolk hiding in the city. There was no other way for the Book to have come to Habaharan. But they had been only a few blocks away the whole time, sheltering in the attic above Ofelia's bakery. And she had seen Ofelia several times over the long months; she often came in place of her lover, Zamiel, who had promised to check in on her from time to time. Neither of them had ever mentioned this before.

Suddenly, her heart was filled with baffled anger. How could her supposed protectors have deceived her so?

"Do you know their names?" she asked.

"Well, the dark ones like to call themselves Mahna and Brahna; and they like to act like they're brother and sister. But Zizi and I know better. We've been sneaky and careful, and we've heard their real names. When they think no one is listening, they call themselves Star and Forley."

The child began to giggle devilishly. "You see? Star and Forley—those names are in the book, too! I guess you probably know them."

Zeel was so startled that she nearly toppled backwards. She cried out, somewhere between anguish and gladness. Star, she had suspected strongly; but knowing that Forley was there too was a painful surprise. How had such a loud, careless young man kept himself hidden for so long?

Seeing her reaction, the girl grinned at her awestruck little brother. "Oh yeah, she definitely knows them," she said with a wink.

"Are you sure of this?" Zeel gasped, struggling to regain her balance.

"Of course I'm sure."

"Are you sure?"

The girl saw from her tone of voice that there was no space for fooling around. Her sassy little grin became a frown. "I'm positive. We've been following them around for months, and we hear almost everything they have to say. They work in that bakery all day, then go clown around with some Night Watch people, and then go back to sleep at the bakery. Then they get up and do it all over again, nearly every day. We knew from the start that they had come here looking for you; but we hadn't been sure who you were, exactly. I only thought of it last week, but once I did think of it, it made way too much sense."

Zeel gripped the girl by her shoulders, forcing her to look her in the eye.

"Star is my daughter," she whispered.

The child's pale eyes grew wide.

"Yes, my daughter. My only child, until very recently, and the author of the book. Oh, if only you knew who Forley really was…"

"Whoa," the girl breathed. "Now that is something. Boy, you must miss her a whole lot, huh?"

Zeel bowed her head. "You have no idea."

The girl thought about this for a moment, and then jumped up and planted her fists on her hips.

"Well, then, we'll just have to fix that, won't we, Zizi?"

Her brother's eyes darted between the two of them, unsure of who was more amazing in this moment. "How?" he asked at last.

"By getting them back together, of course. Oh, we can pull it off easily. And I think I already know how to do it."

Both of them stared up at her in fascination.

"Oh, come on, you two. It won't even take long, and all we have to do is be our usual, sneaky selves. I'll tell you all about it… In just a minute. I hear Thora coming back, and I need cake before I can tell you anything properly."

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Afterthoughts…

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I have artfully avoided revealing this child's name for a glorious purpose in the next chapter. You may or may not have already guessed who these children are, but I'm not letting any spoilers out just yet. ;D

You may not have realized this, but you now know all the names of squad C-57. Here are some fun facts about them: Zak is the one who noticed Zeel's ring and necklace in the last book; like Leah, he doesn't let his glasses hold him back in any way. Zione is a Zebak version of Bronden in every way, because that was obviously something the world needed; she is also based largely on Lindsey Stirling, having bard magic and using the power of music to knock things over, and also her accent is very Russian. The "zh" in Zhena's name is pronounced as "j", and so her name is basically Jane with an awesome twist. Zirita frequently goes by Rita, which you may also recognize from the last book, and she has a fantastic set of issues that will be dealt with later. The brothers Garased, you already know fairly well. :P

Shall we explain some italicized words real quick? Arin and dazi are two of four monetary denominations the Zebak use. Arin is a gold coin, worth about 20 US dollars; yoon is a silver coin worth about 10; dazi is a copper coin worth 5; and riva is an iron coin worth 1. They are named after the metals they are made of, in that language Ofelia and her father speak. Yes, I worked all this out one evening, because according to my notes on it, I have no self-control. Arin is the only one you have to be aware of, though. It is important later. ;D

Abrasha is coffee, in case it wasn't obvious. Sha seems to be the verb to drink, and so as a suffix it denotes a beverage. You will see this later in the series. As this culture draws largely from India and the middle east, I like to think of the Zebak enjoying drip coffee as well as Turkish-style coffee, which you should look up and try sometime. With thrice the caffeine of an espresso shot, and also the unique flavor of cardamom, I highly recommend it.