Sweet Roses- Yea, a new reviewer! If you're wondering, I'm doing my job. I want everyone to be wondering. At least for now. I'm not too confusing, am I? \^_^
Wink57CS- Daijobu! If someone's reviewed one chapter but doesn't keep going, I tend to overreact. It's a problem I'm working on.
Crystal- Shounen ai? I wasn't planning on any, but, who knows? I've never done shounen-ai before, and it tends to freak some people out, so there probably won't be any.
Shiva Darkwater- *Is about to burst from happiness* Thank you! I'll do my best not to let you down! I'm not sure how long this thing is gonna go, but it looks like it could take awhile.
DeadlyBeauty1- Erk! I had that same problem with some stories. It finally let me review, after about five tries. Chocolate! The best inspiration food! *Eats cookies*
Faraday: Wow. O.o Thank you! (Hey, have you read The Wayfarer Redemption trilogy by Sara Douglass?)
NeverEndingQuest- Thank you!
Chapter 4- The Way of Things
A chill wind blew through the unknown world as the sun sank and the two figures knelt in the middle of the dead garden.
"What's a Drifter?" Dilandau asked.
"What's a Drifter?" Arias laughed pleasantly. "You don't know? Why, you're one. I'm one."
"But, what is it?" Dilandau pressed, anger seeping into his voice. His hand tightened around the stalk of the dead flower that he had been picking apart, crushing the brittle stem with a weak crunch.
Arias leaned forward and tapped Dilandau's cheek with a dirty finger. "A Drifter is someone with no control over his destiny. We just drift through our lives without purpose, and end up wherever fate takes us. Now, the ones with the kismet marks on their faces are the Artisans. They can control their fates."
"Kismet marks?" Dilandau tossed a seed pod at the basket on the ground at Arias's side. Artisans, huh? He should have known that his remark to Folken about art would come back to bite him someday. It certainly had sharp teeth.
"The purple teardrop on the cheek. It shows us who can control his destiny, and who can't." Arias pushed his hair back behind his ears again.
"Alter their destinies?" Dilandau sat back on his heels. This was beginning to sound somewhat familiar. Folken had spouted idiocy about destiny like this before. "But, anyone can do that, with the proper machinery."
Arias laughed. "Machinery! That's funny, Dilandau. How can a machine touch fate? No, only a trained Artisan can manipulate destiny."
"Tell that to the Sorcerers," Dilandau muttered. "And that's why these 'Artisans' force everybody who isn't fortunate enough to have his face marked up to work as a slave all his life?"
Arias was genuinely shocked and surprised. "Force? If anything, we should thank the Masters for guiding our destinies for us and for taking care of us! If not for them, who knows where I would be now?"
"How about free?" Dilandau asked.
Arias looked at Dilandau for a moment, and the albino wondered if his words had hit home. But Arias shook his head. "No, what use would it be to be free if I've got nothing to eat and nowhere to go? We Drifters are destined for nothing without the Artisans to guide our fates. They take care of us."
Dilandau couldn't believe his ears. This man actually liked his position of servitude? How had he possibly gotten to be so completely brainwashed?
"Where I come from, we don't have slavery," Dilandau told Arias.
"Your life must have been terrible before now. You're fortunate that the traders found you. Master Shays is a very caring and merciful master." Arias spoke with more than a little pride in his voice. He stood slowly, picking up the basket of seeds. "It's a shame you didn't come earlier. That's it for today."
"Oh, I'm so disappointed," Dilandau muttered sarcastically. He stood. "What do we do now? Bow and scrape?"
"We go inside," Arias told him. Oh, good. Going inside sounded like a normal, everyday activity, normal by even Dilandau's own standards. Arias hooked the basket in his elbow and gestured for Dilandau to follow him. "Come, come. We'll take these in, and then I'll show you where the Drifters live. And we can eat. The food isn't very good," he said apologetically, "but on our own we would probably have nothing at all."
"I don't care," Dilandau told him. Whatever he was given to eat couldn't be any worse than the toxic waste that the Zaibach Army tried to pass off as food. "Lead the way." Arias nodded and started back to the castle, limping as always. Dilandau wandered along with him, forcing himself to slow his normally brisk pace so that he didn't pass Arias up. The sun had half-set by now, and he air had darkened from gold to orange.
"How long have you been here? At this place?" Dilandau asked.
"Oh, all my life." Arias nodded proudly to himself. "The Masters have always been pleased with my work. Even when I hurt my leg and I couldn't work out in the vineyards anymore, they didn't sell me. They let me work here in the gardens, and inside. I've belonged to the Amaryllis family all my life." Arias suddenly looked guilty. "I'm sorry for bragging, Dilandau."
"I take it that it's some feat, then, not to ever be sold?" Dilandau asked as they passed through the tall gates.
Dilandau blinked. He had just walked through the gates, but now they were closed and chained! Dilandau looked up at the narrow windows of the castle that glowed orange-yellow with candlelight. Was Shays watching them from up there, or had he done something to the gates so that they automatically closed when the last of the workers had returned?
"Yes, yes, it's quite unusual," Arias answered him.
Well, that was good to know. If Dilandau couldn't find a way to escape this particular place, he all he had to do was get himself sold somewhere else that might offer a better chance.
"The Amaryllis family, you said?" Dilandau asked. Eyes open, mouth shut, he reminded himself. He had to find out more about this place before he could have a real chance of escaping from it.
"Yes, the Amaryllis family." The large, wooden doors that they came to were shut. Arias tugged on the handle, and the door didn't open. Locked? Dilandau thought that they would try another, but Arias just stood and waited. "The Master Gwinnett and Mistress Anna are generous masters."
Dilandau frowned. "Gwinnett? What about Shays?"
Arias pulled on the door's handle again, and it opened easily. He motioned Dilandau in, and let the door fall shut behind him. "Master Shays is their son. The Master Gwinnett and Mistress Anna are only Artisans, but Master Shays is a High Artisan."
High Artisan? That was a new one. It sounded like some sort of rank or class inside the Artisans to Dilandau, though, and he filed it away in his memory. He would ask Arias about it later. He had more important things to find out now- for example, where the hell he was.
"Gwinnett and Anna, huh?"
"Yes." Arias's face darkened. "But stay away from the Mistress Jay if you can."
Ah. This was interesting. Someone that didn't get Arias's gushing approval. "Who is Jay?" Dilandau asked. The name sounded familiar. Dilandau thought that he'd heard Shays mention a Jay before. Arias touched his arm.
"Wait here. I'll be right back." Arias disappeared through another wooden door, this one plain.
Dilandau leaned against the wall, the stones cold against his back. Inside, the building definitely reminded him of the Vione. The black, stone walls and ceiling and floor soaked up all the light instead of throwing it back. The only real difference was that he was surrounded by stone instead of metal, and the torches that burned along the walls gave off a natural, yellow-orange light instead of a pale, white-blue.
Arias returned, the basket of seeds gone. "Where were we?" he asked.
"Jay," Dilandau told him.
"Yes. Mistress Jay." Arias coughed uncomfortably. "She is Master Shays's twin sister." Arias glanced up and down the hallway to make sure that they were alone. "Oh, the gods should strike me down for saying such things, but stay away from her if you can."
Arias had Dilandau's full attention. "Why?" Dilandau asked.
Arias dropped his voice. "She's not quite right in the head, if you know what I mean. You never know what she might do. She frightens me, sometimes. Oh, the gods forgive me for what I've said. It's not her fault she's like that. She's a Drifter too, you know, but they don't let her work, she might hurt herself. She can't take care of herself, even as much as we can. That's why Master Shays joined the Violet Order, to try to set her right." Violet Order? What was that? "If you could see her sometimes, though!" Arias looked around again, then leaned in closer to Dilandau. "There's a door in the kitchen that caught fire and burned up a few years ago. Master Shays fixed it back with fate, but ever since then, Mistress Jay won't pay it any mind. She walks right into it, like it isn't even there!" Arias shuddered. "It scares me, Dilandau."
Dilandau stored that memory away with the "High Artisan" and "Violet Order" things that Arias had mentioned earlier. This Jay sounded like she could make a very effective hostage, if it came to that.
Arias nodded down the hallway, and they continued. Dilandau marveled at the size of the building. Hallways and rooms branched off in innumerable directions. What could one family possibly want with all this space? The Vione was home to hundreds of soldiers and servants, and he didn't think it was as big as this place.
Well, Arias seemed trustworthy enough, even if he did have his priorities in the wrong order. Time to ask the big question. "Where are we?" Dilandau asked.
Arias blinked. "We're in a hallway inside the castle."
Dilandau rolled his eyes. "Less specific."
Arias paused, looking momentarily surprised. "Oh, that's right! I keep forgetting that you're not from around here!" he laughed. Dilandau had to check his temper as they crossed from the pools of light to the shadows and back again.
Just get on with it! Answer the question! He hoped that Arias even knew the answer. The man had probably never been off the Amaryllis family's property.
"Well, Last Snow- that's the name of the city -is about in the center of New Atlantis- at least, that's what Mistress Anna told me once, and she knows these things -so, I think that would put us right in the middle of Asgard." Arias nodded to himself in satisfaction with his answer. "At least, according to Mistress Anna, and she knows these things."
Dilandau's vividly-colored eyes widened. "Asgard?" he demanded, stopping. "Did you just say that we're in Asgard? The Dark Continent?"
"Dark Continent?" Arias chuckled. "I don't know where you got that from. Does it look dark to you? Does the sun not set where you're from?"
"It sets," Dilandau growled impatiently.
"Oh. Well, yes, I did say Asgard."
Dilandau leaned against the wall. He felt lightheaded. "That must mean that I'm in the Mystic Valley," he said to himself. "Oh, shit, the Mystic Valley!"
"Mystic Valley?" Arias asked. "I've never heard of that, either, but I like it better than Dark Continent. Are you all right, Dilandau? You look pale."
"I'm always pale," Dilandau muttered. "I'm an albino." The Mystic Valley! Of all the cursed places, he had to end up in the Mystic Valley! But, he wondered, which was the greater evil, the Draconians, or the Sorcerers? And anyway, he hadn't seen a single Draconian yet. At least, he didn't think he had. They could be tricky bastards, or so he'd heard. Of course, he'd heard that a lot about himself, too. Perhaps he was a Draconian and he didn't know it. He might fit in well among the people who had destroyed Atlantis. He'd destroyed a country, too.
"Then, you're always pale, but are you all right?" Arias asked again.
"I'm fine," Dilandau told him none too kindly. "Let's get going."
"Yes, let's get going." Arias turned and froze. He caught Dilandau by the front of his tunic and shoved him through a door.
"What?" Dilandau yelped, "What are you doing?"
"It's Mistress Jay," Arias hissed. "She's coming!"
"Damn, she really does scare you, doesn't she?" Dilandau asked.
"Yes! Let's just wait here until she's gone!" Arias wrung his hands nervously.
"What if she comes in here?" Dilandau asked. From the look of sudden terror on Arias's face, the other slave hadn't considered that as a possibility.
"Let me get a look at her, at least." Dilandau peered out the door.
The girl only halfway reminded him of Shays, and he didn't understand why she unnerved Arias so. Her eyes were much larger than Shays's, and wide and innocent, and the same, bright purple. Her hair, that same, dark black, fell in ringlets around her shoulders. Her face was set in a distant expression of childlike bliss. Dilandau couldn't believe that the two were twins. She reminded him so much of a child, not an adult like Shays; even the white dress she wore, with its lace and frills, looked like something that belonged on a little girl.
"I don't see why she scares you so much," Dilandau told Arias. "I mean, she doesn't look as old as Shays, but she looks like an ordinary, disgustingly cute girl to me."
"Look closer, then," Arias told him, huddling against the wall, as if that might lessen the chances of Jay entering this hallway.
Dilandau looked back to Jay. She walked oddly, with her knees always bent, bobbing. She reminded him of a child learning to walk.
"She walks weird. So what? So do you."
"No, not that!" Arias hissed. "Look at her again. That door, on the right- that's the door I told you about that burned."
Dilandau looked back again. Jay stopped and stared at the door, as if deciding whether or not to enter. She walked straight into it, and then cried out and rubbed her forehead where she had hit it on the door. She looked puzzled that she had not gone through it. Footsteps sounded on the stone floor.
"Jay!" Shays came running down the hallway, looking flustered, gripping the opening of his cloak shut to keep it from flying out behind him. "I told you to stay put, Jay! What are you doing down here in the Drifters' hallways? You know that you're not to go back here! Who knows what one of them might do to you?" He seized Jay's arm and ushered her away ahead of him.
Arias sighed with relief. "I heard Master Shays. Is she gone?"
"Yeah, they're gone," Dilandau told him.
"Now let's go, then." They went back out into the hallway. "Do you see what I mean now?" Arias asked him as they began walking.
"Hardly," Dilandau told him. "After what I've been through in my life, a little girl is hardly enough to frighten me like that."
He watched Arias limp along. "So, if Shays is supposed to be some high and mighty master of fate, why doesn't he fix your leg?" Dilandau asked.
"Oh, I'm sure that he has his reasons." Dilandau couldn't detect the slightest bit of spite in Arias's voice. "I don't know how destiny works, but I hear it's particularly hard to change so that a person was never hurt. Even the High Artisans in the Blue Order can only usually will it so that the person doesn't die."
"Sure. That's a real likely story." Dilandau rolled his eyes. How naïve Arias was! "What happened to you in the first place?"
"We're here!" Arias announced, pushing open the most worn-looking door that Dilandau had ever seen. Damn, but the man had a way of finding distractions when he didn't want to talk about something.
The room inside was large, and the torches along its walls seemed to give off more smoke than light. Dilandau coughed and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. There must have been a hundred people in the room, he thought, a hundred at the least, all dressed ragged like himself. He saw all ages, from infants who couldn't yet walk to old men who might die any day. Beneath the smoke the air smelled like straw, and he realized, when he saw it piled on the floor to one side, that it was what they were to sleep on. The other side held a long, plain table that Dilandau could hardly see for the people crowded around it.
Arias's face lit up. "Fruit!" he exclaimed, and limped over to the table. He disappeared in the people, and he returned to Dilandau carrying two fist-sized, yellow-red fruits. "The pomegranate harvest must be amazing if the masters are letting us have them this big!" He tossed one to Dilandau, and they settled against the wall, sitting in the straw, to eat.
Dilandau turned the fruit over in his hands. He'd never eaten a pomegranate before. He watched Arias for a cue. After some trouble, Arias managed to pull it open, and Dilandau did the same. It looked like a star inside, he thought, picking the red-flesh-covered seeds out of the white rind and popping them into his mouth. It tasted tart, but the flavor was pleasant enough.
Dilandau watched a droplet of juice trickle down his finger. It was exactly the same color of blood. The things one missed out on in the Zaibach Army.
Arias tossed his hair back out of his face. "Anyway, to answer your question before, I hurt my leg when one of the grape trellises fell on me a few years back. I broke it, and it never healed quite right. I was afraid that the masters would sell me, but they didn't."
"Hmph." Dilandau squeezed one of the pomegranate seeds between thumb and forefinger, and it burst, spraying his hand with red juice. "If that'd happened in Zaibach, you'd have healed fine."
"Really?" Arias asked, interested. "You must have wonderful medicine."
Dilandau remembered the Sorcerers and their needles and frowned. "Some of it better than the rest."
"You'll be harvesting tomorrow." Arias licked juice from his fingers. He looked like one of the cat-people, doing that. "Be careful. Don't try to climb on the trellises for the high ones, that was my mistake. You can come back for them later."
"What are we harvesting?" Dilandau asked. At the moment, he couldn't think of anything that grew on trellises besides flowers, and what would they do with flowers?"
"Grapes," Arias answered. Right. Arias had just mentioned grapes not a minute ago. "Master Shays said that he wanted you working in the vineyards tomorrow." Of course. Why hadn't Dilandau realized that? He needed to be more observant. "He might change his mind, though, he does that sometimes. You look pretty agile. He might have you in the pomegranate trees."
"I can't wait," Dilandau muttered sarcastically. He'd been muttering a lot since he got here, he realized. Grapes! He was thankful that there would not be anyone from his side of Gaea present tomorrow to see that. The famous Dilandau Albatou, picking grapes!
"Or," Arias continued thoughtfully, "he might even have you pressing them. I got to do it once, before I hurt myself. Oh, it was fun! It was like playing in the mud again when I was little! But, it does take a lot of energy."
Dilandau tossed his pomegranate rind at a bucket by the wall, not following its trajectory to see if it actually made it in. "You make grape juice here?" he asked, shaking his head. Of all the ridiculous things! He had been enslaved and sold to make grape juice!
Arias laughed. "Grape juice? No," he told Dilandau, "we make wine!"
Wine. Now there was an irony. He was probably surrounded by the stuff, and he couldn't drink any of it.
Dilandau sighed and rested his head back against the wall numbly. How would Zaibach ever find him out here in the Mystic Valley? They would search the immediate area, no doubt, but would they continue the search after that? He knew that Folken had a few unorthodox tricks up his sleeve- no, tricks under that cloak, he corrected wryly -but would they be enough? Even Folken probably wouldn't think of looking for him in the Mystic Valley! Would he ever see his own side of Gaea again?
Another thought occurred to him. A war had begun on Gaea that day, he was certain that the razing of Fanelia would lead to a war. The Dragon Slayers would be fighting it without a leader. What if he managed to return to Zaibach, only to find that they had been killed in his absence?
Dilandau immediately pushed that idea away. No, the Dragon Slayers were all highly skilled and well-trained. They would stay alive.
He felt Arias's hand on his shoulder. "Dilandau?" Arias asked, "are you all right?"
All right? Of course he wasn't all right! He'd just been reduced from the commander of the Zaibach Empire's Dragon Slayers to a damned grape-picker!
Dilandau closed his eyes. "I want to go home, Arias," he said softly.
"You are home," Arias told him. He genuinely meant that, didn't he? Dilandau could hear it in his voice, and Arias had probably intended the words to be comforting, but they didn't help. Dilandau didn't believe in any gods, but if there were a few out there, he hoped that they would strike him dead the day that he called this place home.
"Why don't I introduce you around?" Arias suggested. Dilandau groaned inwardly. He had to applaud Arias's ability to make the best out of a bad situation, but his constant cheerfulness was going to get him slapped very shortly.
"No, I don't think so," Dilandau told him irritably. At this point, he just wanted to be left alone.
"Oh." Arias paused. "At least meet my wife, then."
Wife? Dilandau opened his eyes. "I didn't think that slaves would be allowed to get married."
"Well, we're not married in the same way as the Artisans." Arias eased his legs out straight in front of him. "But we've made vows to each other. We just didn't have a real ceremony, or a High Artisan from the White Order to bless us. It's the closest that we can get." He looked up and waved an arm. "She's coming over."
"Does Shays know anything about this?" Dilandau asked.
"Oh, I'm sure he does. The masters know everything. But I don't think they mind, or they'd put a stop to it." Arias winked at Dilandau. "And it makes us work harder, so that we won't be sold away from each other."
He had a point. Dilandau wondered what kind of woman this was, who would bind herself to a crippled slave, knowing that if one of them was to be sold or thrown away, he'd probably be the first to go? Well, probably she had just fallen in love. That particular emotion had a reputation for making people do inane things. Dilandau had vowed many times that he would never fall victim to any of its forms.
A woman, crudely dressed like the rest of them, her brown hair tied back at her neck, knelt next to Arias, who put an arm around her shoulders. "Dilandau, this is Calantha, my wife."
"Dilandau Albatou." Dilandau extended a hand to her. She shook it.
"Albatou. That's a powerful name," Calantha observed, greatly impressed. Dilandau frowned. Hadn't Arias said the same thing? "Is he a new one?" Calantha asked Arias. "I don't think I've ever seen him before. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I'd met someone like that." Arias nodded.
"Master Shays just bought him today. He'll be working in the vineyards."
"Oh, really?" Calantha exclaimed. "Then I can show him the ropes!"
"Good idea!"
The two continued to talk, seeming to have forgotten Dilandau, which was perfectly fine with him. In the matter of friendships, he had always been a recluse, and Arias's openness and eagerness for conversation didn't particularly appeal to him. Dilandau stole away, finding a blanket and sitting down in the corner of the hay-covered floor, where a good half or more of the others had already laid down and gone to sleep. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. The air had already begun to chill with the night. It was the soldier in him that kept his back to the wall and his senses alert, even though the room had quieted a good deal, and, realistically, he did not have to fear from these people.
Dilandau closed his eyes. This straw wasn't that much more uncomfortable than his own bed back on the Vione. He should try to sleep, he told himself. He'd probably need that energy the next day. He sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around himself, and hoped that he would dream of his Dragon Slayers.
Dilandau couldn't sleep that night. He should have supposed. Thanks to the Sorcerers, he had just spent at least half a day asleep. Of course he wouldn't need any tonight.
He looked around the room. The peacefulness that had at first settled over them was broken by a symphony of loud snoring. It was no wonder that he couldn't sleep! Would it be like this every night? The torches on the walls had gone out, but the air still smelled like oily smoke. Despite the lack of the torches, Dilandau realized that he could still see. He craned his neck to look up at the walls. Just under the high ceiling, a series of narrow windows allowed the moonlight in.
Dilandau ran a palm over the cold wall. Too smooth to climb, but even if it weren't, someone even as thing as himself could not fit through those windows. If he was to try to escape, he would have to find a different way out.
What of the doors? Were they locked at night? Or was that a useless gesture, with the high fence that surrounded the building?
Dilandau stood, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Bad move. He snatched it up again and pulled it tight about himself. It was autumn during the day, but nighttime brought the dead of winter.
He crept in the direction that he thought might lead him to the door, the straw rustling beneath his feet. He stepped carefully around the other sleeping slaves, past the small children huddled with a parent or each other for comfort in the darkness, past Arias and his wife lying together, sharing a blanket. The last thing he needed was for someone to wake up and wonder what he was up to. Damn, his foot ached where the stones had cut him earlier! Well, at least he wasn't bleeding, anymore.
Finally, he stepped from the hay to the rough, cold stone. He didn't have to worry about tripping over anyone. Now, where was the door? Dilandau stepped to the wall. Here, it had been here, near the corner, along this right wall. But, he didn't see any door! He ran his hands along the wall. Perhaps, in the lack of light, he had missed it. No, this wall was as solid as the face of a mountain.
He turned around and scanned the other walls. All of them were blank. There wasn't a single door in the room anymore!
He should have known. This wasn't so strange, considering the disappearing manacles and the gates opening and closing themselves, earlier.
He looked up at the narrow windows, and through them the moon and the Mystic Moon, so high and far away, clutching the blanket closed at his neck. "Get me out of here, Folken," he said softly, though there was no one to hear him.
Dilandau. Dilandau, the voice urged him. Dilandau turned his face away from the light. Dilandau. Dilandau.
"Dilandau!"
Dilandau caught Arias by the front of his tunic, threw him to the ground, and pinned him with both hands on his shoulders. Arias's dark eyes widened.
"Don't hurt me, Dilandau! I wasn't trying to do anything to you, I swear! I was just trying to wake you up!"
Dilandau sighed and sat back on his heels. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
"Sorry." Arias sat up, adjusting his tunic.
Dilandau looked up at the windows. It was still dark outside, but he thought he could see a faint touch of light.
"What are you doing over here?" Arias asked him. "You've slept through breakfast. Everyone else is already out working."
"They are?" Damn, and he hadn't thought that he'd be able to sleep at all. Dilandau looked to the wall. The door had returned, and the room was empty, save for himself and Arias.
"Come on, Dilandau. You can't just sit there all day!" Arias offered Dilandau a hand to help him up. Dilandau didn't take it, but stood on his own.
"Where did you say I was going?" Dilandau asked him. "The vineyards?"
Arias nodded. "Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. That's right. Calantha will take you. She's waiting for you in the hallway."
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Dilandau followed Arias out the door and was not entirely surprised to see it disappear behind them.
"Dilandau, right?" Calantha shoved a covered tray into his hands. "Wait here a moment." She trotted up the hallway and pushed through a door into the kitchen. Dilandau looked to Arias questioningly as he balanced the tray.
"What happened to the vineyards?" he asked.
"Somebody has to take breakfast to Master Shays and Mistress Jay," Arias told him, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I usually help Calantha, but she wanted you today. She says that I walk too slow," he laughed. "I'll see you later, then, Dilandau." Waving over his shoulder, Arias limped away.
Calantha returned carrying another tray. "Dilandau. That is your name, right?"
"Yeah," he told her shortly. She nodded.
"Follow me. We won't be long."
And again, Dilandau trailed behind as another led the way through the barely-lit hallways that all looked the same, especially now that these dim, narrow staircases were added in. More than once he nearly tripped and dropped the tray, and, for the moment, he was actually thankful for his bare feet. It made it easier to find his footing. He didn't know what kind of food was under the white cloth, but it smelled wonderful. It reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything but a pomegranate for nearly a day. He pushed the thought aside. You're weak, he chided himself. It wouldn't kill him to be hungry for awhile.
The hallway at the top of the stairs was in better condition than the one they had come from-that is to say, the torches were a bit brighter, and the floor was spotless clean and smooth. Calantha shifted her tray to one arm with the expertise of one who has performed a task many times before and knocked on a door.
"Enter," came Shays's voice.
His back to them, Shays pulled his cloak around his shoulders and fastened it as Calantha pushed the door open. Dilandau couldn't believe the difference between this room and the slaves'! A darkly patterned carpet was soft beneath his feet as he stepped inside. Dozens of smokeless-burning candles chased the shadows into the corners. Woven tapestries hung down the walls, covering the black stone. As Shays turned around, Calantha set her tray down upon a table of heavy, dark wood inlaid with a swirling pattern of snowflakes in gold. Dilandau stared. The only time he had ever seen such luxury had been in the royal palace in Asturia!
Returning to the doorway, Calantha elbowed Dilandau. "Put it down on the table," she hissed. Still comic-struck, Dilandau walked forward.
And then Jay caught his eye. She sat across from an empty chair that must belong to Shays, rocking side to side, her eyes distant. She sang to herself, only two notes, softly- "La, ra, la, ra, la, ra, la, ra..." Trying to avoid looking at the girl, Dilandau set the tray down.
"That's enough, Jay," Shays told her. She continued to sway.
"La, ra, la, ra, la, ra..."
"Jay!" Shays barked. Jay jerked, looking guilty. Shays sat down across from her.
Jay fixed Dilandau in her violet gaze. "Who's she?" she asked, forming the words slowly, like a child learning to speak. Shays lifted the cloth from one of the trays.
"That's Calantha. You see her every day," he answered distractedly.
"No. Her." Jay pointed at Dilandau, who was immediately offended but kept his temper in check. He was no woman!
Shays looked up, twisted around to view Dilandau. "That's the new slave," he told Jay. "That's a man, not a woman. What's your name, slave?"
"Dilandau," Dilandau answered. Forget the surname; Shays wouldn't care about it, and he was sick of everyone telling him what a powerful name Albatou was.
"Dilandau." Shays mused over the name, as though it sounded familiar to him. "Dilandau. Dilandau." He looked up. "That is Dilandau, Jay. He is a man."
Jay edged closer to the wall, eyeing Dilandau warily. "Don't like her."
"Him," Shays corrected.
"Smells like blood," Jay continued nervously. "Don't like her."
Shays looked to Dilandau. "You do have a pretty face," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice but not in his expression. "You even have my sister confused." Dilandau's frown deepened further.
Jay reached out and tugged at Shays's cloak. "Make her go away," she whispered. Shays waved a hand in Dilandau's direction, turning back to his twin.
"You two are dismissed. Get to work."
Dilandau glanced back over his shoulder as Calantha pulled him out the door.