Thursday March 4 to Friday March 5, 1490
"Oh, no," cried Ynez. "I will not have him in the orphanage!" Gathering up her skirts, she swished forth grandly to confront him. Ghallim, however, paused to offer me his arm gallantly and escorted (or rather, supported) me past the ward line.
"Why have you come?" Ynez demanded with no attempt at courtesy.
Thanos spread his arms in a mock-conciliatory gesture. "Why, Ars Temporis but told me that you young ones would...have need of my services. And so I came in case my vision spoke true — as I see that it has." He nodded over Ynez's shoulder at the bloody, mangled body of Vanessa bani Bjornaer, and at the hysterical little boy beside it.
Convinced by neither his words nor his tone, Ynez crossed her arms and set her chin stubbornly. "And you would do this out of the goodness of your heart?" Her tone proclaimed that she wouldn't believe him even if he swore by our Father and all His angels in Heaven that he'd frozen the Tower of the Winds.
Again without using any Foci, Thanos swiftly slowed time so we could negotiate before the hue and cry arose. He smiled benevolently at us. "Of course not," he said. "I would not, nor would you believe me if I claimed to. So let us be frank with one another. In exchange for returning Vanessa bani Bjornaer to life and saving your House, I want something in return."
Ah, here it came.
"Eez eet not reward enough to prevent zis city from descending into political chaos?" Ghallim inquired. "Since you say zat you wish to save Athens?"
An amused smile flickered across Thanos' face. "That is an excellent attempt at manipulation. I commend the effort." Consternation and chagrin chased each other across Ghallim's face. "But alas, no, it is not sufficient reward. For Athens will not descend into chaos — House Criamon alone will fall."
Gathering up my wits like a bandage and focusing on the conversation with a commendable effort of my own, I asked suspiciously, "Why are you still here? You already froze the Temple of the Winds. Haven't you saved Athens already?"
His gaze lingered on the bruises and gashes around my neck. "I'm here to help my family," he said simply.
"Your family? But why are you at the Parthenon?"
"Family matters."
Family matters? Did that mean he had relatives among the Bonisagi? Dear gods, please don't let it be Thoren!
Thanos had already turned back to Ynez. "You know what I want."
We exchanged a quick glance. "Is it the you-know-what?" I hissed, thinking of the loom.
"I think so," she mouthed back. Then she shook her head firmly at Thanos. "You can't have it."
"Why not?" he inquired, as if he were buying onions at the market. "You don't believe in gods anyway."
Beside me, Ghallim had begun a one-sided conversation with Ashton. "I know! We can create extra chaos in ze city! Zen eet will be well worth eet for 'im to 'elp us now."
Thanos ignored him and shrugged offhandedly. "You know I can take it anyway, should I wish."
Ynez and I frowned at each other again. As far as we knew, the loom was protected not only by the layers of wards around the orphanage but by the fires of the Hearth itself. How did Thanos propose to "take" it so easily?
A thought suddenly struck Ynez. "Wait, are we talking about the same thing?" And, to my exasperation, she opened a private mind link with Thanos.
While the two conversed silently, I interrupted Ghallim's animated discussion with Ashton to say, "I like your idea better. The one where we just tell everyone the truth."
"Agreed," he said promptly. "Eet seems safest."
Bracing myself against Ghallim's arm, I reached out to tug at Ynez's sleeve and announce our resolution.
As she looked over at me, Thanos said aloud, "Of course, I have only been masquerading as a Solificato. With its use, I mean to benefit everyone."
"What manner of man masquerades as a Solificato?" asked Ynez in disgust.
"What does he want?" I demanded impatiently.
"He wants the keys to the city."
"Ah, you mean ze keys to ze Hearth?" Ghallim interpreted. "I would not recommend zat."
Ynez ignored him and stared straight at Thanos. "I can't do it," she told him flatly. "If I need to live with the burden of this murder, so be it — but I cannot give it to you."
A fleck of respect entering his dark eyes, he tipped his head to one side consideringly and nodded once. Then he turned and examined Ghallim with detached curiosity. "I don't recognize you."
Ghallim stared back impassively, and Ynez said firmly, "We're done here." Then she gave a start, reacting to something he said in her mind.
At the same time, Ghallim and I remembered his threat to seize what he wanted, and we acted simultaneously to shove her back across the wards onto orphanage grounds, Ghallim with his free hand, and me with Ars Essentiae. Caught off guard by the force of our push, Ynez stumbled over the uneven grass before she caught herself.
Shaking his head with amusement, Thanos turned and strode away.
As soon as Ghallim had half-carried, half-dragged me back into the yard, I demanded, "Did he get it?"
Still a little dazed by everything that had just happened, she shook her head. "No, he didn't."
Bruised, bleeding, Pattern-torn, and tormented by a murderous migraine, I released Ghallim's arm and flopped to the ground, pressing my head against my knees. Teetering through a dream of pain, I half-followed Ynez and Ghallim's argument over God's mercy and whether He would blame her for something He had done (manifesting the bear, I supposed). "Yes," she said emphatically, to which he replied, "Zat eez very Christian."
At some point I opened my eyes to see that dusk was falling, the mice had arrived, and Helen was attempting to embrace Adonis, who kept batting at her arms. After a bit of discussion, the others decided that despite his agreement with Astera, it would be too cruel to keep him here where he had watched a bear maul his mother to death and where the grass was still stained with her blood. The kindest thing to do would be to send him to House Bjornaer for fosterage, and until Thanos' ritual wore off, he could stay in the temple of Athena.
Overhearing the last part of their conversation, Adonis slapped away Helen's hands, shrieked "Murderers!" and tore off into the city. Ghallim chased after him, attempting to herd him towards the temple, but he'd have done better to bond with a shepherd-god, and Adonis, calling upon his rabbit affinity, rapidly disappeared into the warren of streets. I looked around frantically for someone who could keep up. "Sy," I croaked. "Sy, follow him. Keep him safe."
At Gordon's nod, Sy darted after Adonis.
Ynez stared blankly after the two boys for a moment, then shook her head hard. "I must go to church," she said to no one in particular. "I must pray." Then she, too, began stumbling into the shadowy streets.
Letting a dazed fourteen-year-old girl wander all the way across the city in the dark on her own seemed like the worst idea ever, on a day already full of worst ideas. But I couldn't — and Ghallim wouldn't and probably shouldn't — accompany her to church. So who could keep her safe? Whose company would she accept?
A flash of gold by the old library caught my eye. "Lily," I coughed. "Lily." Tel's mother trotted up to me, nuzzling my cheek with a soothing, maternal touch. "Go with Ynez. Keep her safe."
She turned and disappeared after Ynez.
I continued to sit on the ground, following them with my eyes and wondering tiredly if I'd ever get up again. Maybe I'd sit here forever. My legs didn't want to straighten, and I doubted I could keep my balance anyway. At last it was Gordon who knelt by my side. "Come on, Marina," he said, slinging one of my arms over his shoulders. "You should be in bed."
As we staggered towards my bedroom, I slurred at him woozily, "Gordon, how should I treat the mice? It seems — disrespectful — to treat you like children when you're ancient gods."
After a moment of consideration, he explained, "We are children, though. We're both orphaned children and orphaned gods, and the one is integral to the nature of the other. If we ever stopped acting like children, our two natures would start to unbind and that would be — that would not be good."
So was it bad that he was acting like the adult here, putting me to bed and tucking the covers around me? "So I shouldn't act any differently around you?" I asked sleepily, trying and failing to keep my eyes open.
"No," his voice came from far away. "No. You're still Marina, and we're still the mice. Sleep, Marina."
And so I did, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.
When I woke the next morning, feeling marginally better, Ynez still had not returned from church. Granted, I didn't know much about Catholic practices despite four years as her roommate, but an overnight vigil seemed a little excessive. What was she doing — lying prostrate in front of a crucifix? Flagstones were cold. She hadn't taken a cloak with her, and she was going to catch a chill.
Slowly easing myself off my bed and picking up her cloak, I called Gus and Timo and set off for the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea. Located much too far to the northeast of the orphanage, it dated from the eleventh century but had been built on top of an ancient temple of Athena (a source of some distress to Ghallim pre-Ashton), and consisted of a compact hodgepodge of structures that had been tacked onto one another over time. To my eyes, accustomed to the clean, elegant lines of classical Greek architecture, the most acceptable feature of the church's "design" was the octagonal dome over the original portion, although the blue-and-gold mosaic of Mary and her baby over the main entrance wasn't bad, and Ynez swore that the frescoes inside were more than worth the long trek. I'd never accepted her offer of a guided tour.
Now it looked as if I'd get to admire the artwork whether I wanted to or not.
When I tottered up to the main entrance and leaned against the wall to catch my breath, I noticed a little placard that stated the Catholic service was just ending, and the Greek Orthodox one would begin in about ten minutes. I thought I caught a glimpse of Ghallim on a nearby street corner, but when I looked again, he'd vanished. Well, whether he chose to hide or not, I still felt safer knowing he was around.
Followed by the two dogs, I mingled with the worshippers and slipped into the church, passing under the famed mosaic, and entered a sort of large open space with high ceilings and arches supported by what might have been the original columns from the temple of the Athena. But for the marble columns, every flat surface was painted in large, colorful, stylized depictions of saints and other Biblical figures (presumably). Everything about the decor was calculated to overawe the viewer, I thought grumpily, impressed despite myself, and to draw the eye upward towards the dome and the heavens.
Near the back of the church, hunched over miserably in one of the pews closest to the door, was Ynez's small figure. Skirting Father Emmanuel and his assistants, who were busily rearranging the church for their service, I slid across the wooden bench to join her. Underneath the pew, Lily lifted her nose from her paws and whuffed softly in greeting, and Gus and Timo padded in after me and arranged themselves underfoot, Gus leaning against Ynez's leg affectionately.
"Ynez," I whispered, a little intimidated by the way voices echoed in the church, "you've been here all night. Let's go home."
In ringing tones, Father Emmanuel welcomed the congregation and a choir began to sing the day's service.
Ynez had been bowed over her clasped hands, eyes shut, murmuring a prayer in Latin. At my light touch, her eyes flew open. "Ye-es," she said, looking around as if surprised to see morning light streaming through the windows, and Father Emmanuel standing behind his silk-draped altar. "Yes, let's."
But as I wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and creakily made to rise, she suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. "Is it just me? Do you see that purple light?" she hissed.
I, too, was frowning at the lavender glow that was overwhelming the blue-grey morning light playing across the frescoes. Half-turning in the pew for a better look, I caught my breath — striding through the main entrance was an entire procession of stern Crusader types, led by a tall woman in the gaudiest outfit I'd ever seen. Her ankle-length skirts were so wide that they barely fit through the door, and their shimmery lime green fabric was printed with bouquets of red and pink and yellow and white and lavender flowers, a riot of colors that clashed with the more muted tones of the church. Her bodice at least was black, but the neckline and sleeves were trimmed with white lace, and an incredibly pointless short black lace apron puffed out over the front of her skirts. You would never use anything like that in a kitchen. You'd need an apron for the apron! And above her shoulder floated an angel — an angel? — with feathery wings whose tips extended nearly to the hem of its gown. The wings glowed in a pale violet hue that matched some (and warred with the rest) of the flowers on her skirts. My eyes hurt.
"Oh no!" Ynez gasped beside me. "That's Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor! I knew her in Seville."
"Why is that bad?" I whispered back.
From the altar, Father Emmanuel had begun the day's homily on original sin, but more and more of the congregation was turning around to stare wide-eyed at the procession and the angel. In the pews, people pointed covertly and whispered anxiously.
As Zoe Medina took her first step down the aisle, she commanded in a clear voice that carried throughout the church and silenced the choir, "Cease your lies!" At the same time, the angel raised its arms and smiled beatifically at the priest, and his mouth snapped shut. I could see him struggling to move his lips, but Zoe's Ars Essentiae Effect — with an angel as its Focus! — sealed them tightly.
Processing in a stately manner towards him, her skirts hissing softly as they brushed each pew in turn, Zoe proclaimed, "You, Father Emmanuel, have aided and abetted the witches and warlocks of this city. Through inaction you have allowed their sins to fester. Your innermost soul, forged by God Himself, may have been saved by His Son's sacrifice, but you hide yourself from His glory."
The priest shook his head frantically and gestured desperately at the choir to sing and drown out her accusations, but they stood like so many blocks of salt.
Zoe raised her voice to a shout: "You deny the leadership of the Pope, God's voice on Earth! You allow demons to rot your city! But by far your greatest heresy is that you afflict the Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven and mother of our Savior, with original sin, which all save her must bear!"
One final step brought her onto the platform itself, and he cowered away from her flying skirts. Swinging around to face the congregation, she swept one arm across the altar and dashed the golden chalice to the floor. Wine sprayed out like blood across the first few petrified rows of the congregation. "But know that there are no limits to God's grace, and that none are past the point of redemption!" She raised her arms, the angel echoing her gesture. "Now see the sins of your Father Emmanuel laid bare!"
With a silent explosion, black forms burst into existence all around him — oversized leeches, cockroaches the size of my hand, dark spirits that oozed and dripped malevolence. Screams and the crashes of overturned furniture rent the air, half of the worshippers stampeding desperately towards the exits, the other half cringing in the pews, too terrified even to flee.
Father Emmanuel finally managed to choke out, "This is the Orthodox Church! You have no right!"
"Do I not?" A cruel smile darkened Zoe's face, and the angel brought its hands together in a crushing gesture. An invisible force smashed into the black forms around Father Emmanuel, shredding them one by one.
I tugged at Ynez's arm. "Let's go!"
Breaking free of a trance, she nodded vigorously. "Yes! She's an Inquisitor. She'll come after the orphanage."
Bent over to avoid attracting her notice, the two of us edged towards a side door, clinging to each other's hands and trying not to get knocked over and trampled. The dogs circled us and kept our feet clear.
But when we reached the door, I glanced back towards the altar and saw Zoe looking in our direction, a light of recognition in her eyes. Blessedly, she made no move to stop us. Instead, she shouted above the screams and the pounding footsteps and the hideous sounds of wood furniture screeching across tiles, "A dark evil rests within this city! God's glory should have crushed this Black Death long ago, but it persists because we sinners permit it! The Inquisition has traced the roots of the Plague to this city. Demons dwell here who provide it with sustenance, but we shall root out this evil!"
And then we were out on the street, swept along and buffeted by the crowd of panicked churchgoers and pedestrians who had caught our terror. Blindly we fought to move in the right direction, but the crowd kept carrying us the wrong way. We were pushed and shoved; my hair tangled on other people's buttons and tore free of its pins; and Ynez shrieked and nearly fell when someone trampled her hem. At last, a hand seized my arm. Ghallim materialized beside us. "This way!" he shouted above the screaming. "Follow me!"
Ynez latched onto my arm, and like a chain of humans and dogs we finally made our way onto quieter side streets.
Back at the orphanage, Ynez dropped my arm and ran shrieking towards the caves. "Astera! Mater! Mater!"
Astera came running from the direction of her bedchamber to meet us. "Children! What is it?"
"Oh, Mater," Ynez wailed. "The Spanish Inquisition has come! Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor has brought them! They'll destroy the orphanage and kill all the children!" And she poured out an impressively coherent account of Zoe's hostile takeover in the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea.
When she had finished, Ghallim added, frowning, "Eet eez true. But I did notice zat ze seraph eez only an offensive weapon, not a defensive one. Eef eet comes to a fight, I can take Zoe, but not Zoe and her seraph. But eef someone else can distract ze seraph, zen I can defeat 'er."
"Hopefully it won't come to a fight," I said, twisting my hands into my skirts. "She doesn't actually know about the orphanage, does she?"
Astera shook her head. "No, she should not. And we have strong wards about this place...wards of which not even you, Ghallim, are aware." I caught my breath, remembering the worst years of the Plague and the safety I had felt within the orphanage. Astera would protect us, I thought with relief. Astera would make it right.
"As long as they don't search for us specifically, they won't find the orphanage," she continued. "Hopefully neither Thanos nor Thoren knows the true nature of the orphans."
Behind her back, Ynez and Ghallim both gave me hard stares, and I shook my head vehemently, stun by their distrust. Would I ever betray the children? How could they even suspect it of me? Maybe I'd lost my heart, but I certainly hadn't lost my mind!
"Mater," Ynez said tentatively, "Zoe said that they have tracked the source of the Plague to Athens. Is it true?"
Astera shook her head again. "I know nothing about the source of the Plague, but I do not believe that it is here. It is unfortunate that she thinks so, but...well, we will weather this. We will lie low. That is all we can do for now."
"And if she does come here?" Ynez persisted.
"Then all the children, including Tel, and you, Marina, and you, Ghallim, will hide in the caves. It won't be easy...but it can be done."
I'd expected Ghallim-Ashton to object to hiding, but he was nodding his agreement. "Yes," he said thoughtfully, "zat does seem wisest."
"I do have an idea for a hunt for you," Astera added. "The mice must go out from time to time to hunt."
"But why?" I objected. "At a time like this? Surely it's safer for all of them to stay home."
"I know," she agreed, "but the gods must be among humans. It is simply in their nature, just as Zeus must fornicate." It was a measure of her preoccupation that she would say anything like that.
I choked on my own saliva and had a coughing fit, while Ynez squeaked and hid her scarlet face in her hands and very pointedly avoided looking in my direction. (That was an unfair assumption. Why did everyone assume that just because Thoren and I spent time together in private we were, er, reenacting the ways of Zeus and mortal women?) Chuckling at my chagrin, Ghallim pounded me merrily on the back until I could breathe again.
An awful thought occurred to Ynez. "Mater," she said, hunching her shoulders miserably. "Mater, the other Houses may have reason to search for us. There is something that — happened while you were resting, that we need to tell you."
"Yes?" asked Astera anxiously.
"Vanessa bani Bjornaer came here yesterday, to look for Adonis. And...and I killed her."
"Oh, child!" Astera hugged Ynez fiercely.
"I killed her," Ynez mumbled. "It was an accident. But I killed her."
Ghallim objected, "No, eet was ze bear zat killed 'er. Eet was not you who did so. And was eet not in self-defense?"
Ynez shook her head. "I do not remember."
I wracked my brains for a moment, trying to reconstruct the sequence of events. Everything had happened so fast. Vanessa had tried to take Adonis...then I had thrown up a shield around us...then Adonis had run into it... "Vanessa attacked me first," I said anxiously. "Ynez was protecting me. That has to count for something, right?"
"I killed her," Ynez repeated. "I murdered her."
Astera hugged her tighter. "Oh child! Vanessa was not a good person."
At the same time, I protested, "There were — mitigating circumstances. I'm sure people will understand."
"Yes," Ghallim supported me. "Vanessa 'as been inciting gang warfare that 'as killed 'undreds of people, and creating abominations using Ars Animae, and abusing 'er own child. Zen when we rescued her child, she came 'ere to demand 'is return and attacked us. And anyway, eet was not you who killed 'er. Eet was ze bear. I am sure we can find eyewitnesses."
Ynez muttered, "But it was my bear. I summoned it."
Astera stroked her hair and rocked her tenderly. "Ynez, the power that we wield can have terrible consequences…. Every mage must learn this. You are so young, so young to be so powerful... Hush, hush, it will be all right. It will be all right, child."
After Ynez had finally sobbed and then hiccuped herself into a trance-like state, Astera moved to lead her back to our bedroom. It really wasn't the right time for my question, but when would there ever be a good time? Lately it seemed that we lurched from one crisis to another with barely room to breathe before Astera had to work another powerful ritual whose backlash would incapacitate her.
"Astera," I said. "Wait. Mother." I hadn't called her that in years. When and why had I stopped? It just one more of all the holes in my memory.
She stopped. "Yes, Marina?" And in her voice were the tenderness and fondness that I remembered from my earliest childhood.
"Please — I have to know. Which god did I bond with?" I wasn't even sure why it was so important. I had been whatever I was for the past ten years. Would putting a name to it change anything? Maybe. Maybe not. But my life had careened completely out of control, and maybe, just maybe, knowing what I was would form the tiniest tether back to normality.
Astera said, "You didn't bond with a god, Marina. But I promised you and it to keep its identity a secret."
Her words were a blow. "But it was ten years ago! I was only eight! I didn't know what I was asking!"
"That may be. Nevertheless, you were adamant, and a promise is a promise." And I knew I would get no more out of her. To Astera, promises were sacrosanct, and the closest she got to religion was her belief that they must be honored even unto death.
It was Ynez who opened a mind link to tell me, "I think Cly is Clio, the Muse of History."
The Muse of History! It all made so much sense! I'd always loved history — definitely Astera's fault for reading too much classical literature to an impressionable toddler — and what demigod could be more fitting than the Muse of History herself! Relief flooded over me and washed away my doubts and questions. I wasn't part lost-god. I wasn't going to wake up one morning to discover that I was a lynx with an insatiable urge to hunt, or a godling who could weaponize hugs, or something of that ilk. I was still Marina Cimon, librarian of House Criamon, aspiring historian. I was still me.
As Astera had said over and over to Ynez, it would be all right.
No, more than that — it was all right.
While Ynez rested after her long vigil at the church, I called Thoren via the communications stone to warn him about Zoe. Not even his lack of response could dent my euphoria — I merely left a quick message to the effect of "Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor and the Spanish Inquisition are in town. Be careful." Then I floated off to the new library wing, tugging Ghallim after me a la Helen. There I found Jamie with his arms full of parchment and his face split by a wide grin. "Hi Marina, Ghallim, Ashton! Ta-da!" he announced proudly. "I finished copying the scroll!" He shoved the parchment sheets at me and bounced up and down as I leafed through them.
"Very nice," I said appreciatively. "Thanks, Jamie."
"I couldn't read any of it though," he pouted, his pride slightly wounded by his ignorance.
I promised, "Don't worry — I'll teach you, Jamie. It's not that different from modern Greek."
His face brightened. "Okay! But can you teach me later? Sy has the best game planned and I can't miss it!"
Ghallim and I both laughed. "Go, Jamie," I told him. "Ancient Greek has been around for thousands of years. It's not going to vanish overnight."
After he'd vanished out the door, I gestured towards the stacks of scrolls and books and said, "Ghallim, can you do me a huge favor? Can you do an Ars Temporis ward on my library?"
A little surprised, he immediately assented. "Of course. Eet eez not difficult, but eet may take some time."
"That's all right," I replied cheerfully, waving around Jamie's copy of On the History of the Magical Arts. "I need to translate this into Latin anyway."
What I actually ended up doing, because I didn't have enough time to translate the entire treatise, was to find Sy and ask for Irene's books back so I could focus on the passages Cly had destroyed. What I probably should have expected, after living with Sy for countless years, was for him to blink innocently at me and ask, "Books? What books?"
My ebullience beginning to fade, I said anxiously, "You know, the ones I asked you to hide from Irene? The ones you made me believe were destroyed on Monday? They were about this big?" I gestured with my hands. "There were three of them?"
He squinched his eyes shut, pretending to wrack his memory. "No...I'm sorry Marina, I really don't remember any books."
"Sy! Please! This isn't funny!"
A look of wounded innocence. "But Marina, it's not funny. I must be getting old. My memory is going." He did a hilarious impression of a doddering old man, but I wasn't laughing. "I really really don't remember any books."
Drawing a deep breath and counting silently to ten before I let it out again, I said in a controlled tone, "Okay. Well, Sy, if you happen to find them somewhere, can you please let me know?"
He grinned impishly at me. "Of course! And if I happen to find them, which I'm sure I won't because I have no idea what you're talking about, which volume would you like?"
Which volume had contained a description of the Battle of Marathon? "The second one," I said at last.
He gave me another grin. "Okay! If I happen to find it, I'll leave it on your bed. Because you helped Ashton."
Before he could disappear, I asked quickly, "Wait, Sy — which god are you?"
A gamine smile lit up his face, and in his figure I saw the echoes of millennia of mischievous street children. "I'm an urchin, of course. I lived in a city with a great port, and lots and lots of urchins. Ah, those were the days!" And then, like a street child evading the city watch, he was gone.
Shaking my head in amusement and despair, I returned to my room, where Volume Two of De Historia Artium Magicarum was already waiting on my pillow. Oh, Sy! I took it back to the library, translated the requisite passages, and forged replacement pages. After Ghallim finished warding the library, he succumbed to my wheedling and used Ars Temporis to age the parchment, and then I carefully glued the new pages into Irene's book. Unless someone scrutinized it intently with Ars Vis, I felt confident that no one would notice the difference.
It was just in the nick of time, too, for a slam of the door heralded the arrival of the Ars Conjunctionis expert Irene had promised. A local recruit in her late twenties named Nitsa, she looked a little disdainful at the shabbiness of the new library wing, and although she was scrupulously polite as she warded the Hearth logs, I caught her casting sidelong glances at me — the exact same kind of appraising, not-entirely-friendly glance I'd been intercepting from the Bonisagi these past two days.
Finally, I could bear it no longer. "Nitsa, why do people keep looking at me that way?" I demanded. "I've been going to the Acropolis for years. I'm not exactly a new face."
She only shook her head and continued to trace runes over the scrolls. "I don't know what you're talking about, Adepta."
"This!" I cried in frustration. "The way — the way people act, as if they don't want to talk to me."
Nitsa didn't even dignify me with a look. "Perhaps it is because you're from a different House, and they do not know you well? Or perhaps they are too busy to chat, what with the Aegis collapsing? I'm sorry, Adepta, I have a lot of work too, and the sooner I can finish this warding, the sooner I can return to the Acropolis." The implication was clear: Please stop talking to me. I'm not interested in conversation.
But I'd been visiting Leona and Irene at Hadrian's Library for so long, and while I hadn't exactly become friends with all the Bonisagi, I'd always been on nodding terms with them. There had never been this — this oddness that I felt from Nitsa. "Was it something I did?" I asked, only partially addressing her. "What changed?"
But she said nothing more.
After she had left, spending not a second longer in my company than was absolutely necessary, I sat alone on my desk, swinging my legs and chewing the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. Was this the beginning of the social ostracism Leona had predicted? Would it get much worse? How much worse could it get anyway?
Fortunately, I didn't have much time to brood, because Tel wandered into the room, back in human form and looking incredibly happy and well rested. All of his injuries had healed while he was a puppy, a development I noted with envy. Overnight, the bruises on my neck had darkened and spread until I looked like a hanged corpse, and the gashes kept scabbing over and ripping open again every time I moved. And the Pattern damage, of course, would take much longer to fade.
"Hey Marina!" Tel greeted me. "I've been told to summon you for lunch."
An interruption from my own thoughts was very welcome just then. I hopped off the desk with relief. "Coming!"
Over a delicious meal of bread and cheese — made all the tastier by the confidence that it was I, Marina, and not a forgotten nameless god who was savoring the flavors — Tel happily regaled us with tales from his day as a puppy. He'd been a very young dog, it seemed, and he hadn't been able to communicate with his parents. Still they'd sniffed and licked one another, and explored the orphanage together, and he'd stumbled around on his oversized puppy feet from one human to the next, getting picked up and hugged and petted. "It was the best day ever," he sighed contentedly. "So what about the rest of you? Did you also get to rest?"
There was an extremely awkward silence as Ynez, Ghallim, and I considered how to update him.
At last Ghallim spoke hesitantly, "Well, you see — "
"Oh no," Tel said, getting upset. "What happened? I can't believe stuff happened in one day. Why didn't you all just stay here and rest?"
"We tried to, but trouble came here to find us — " Ynez began and Ghallim snorted, "After what 'as been 'appening zis past week, why would yesterday be any different?"
"What happened while I was a puppy?" asked Tel with trepidation. "Wait, Marina, do I want to know?"
To which the answer was certainly no. "Well," I hedged.
Ghallim saved me from coming up with an appropriate summary of the past day. "We will go on a great 'unt!" he proclaimed, gesturing grandly with a bread roll. "We will hunt all ze gods zemselves!"
"Wait, what? Ghallim, why are you acting like this? Marina, Ynez, what's wrong with him?"
Ynez sighed. "He's been like this since he got off the loom."
Something else had caught my attention. "Ghallim, what do you mean you want to hunt all the gods? What about the mice?"
"Oh, I will 'unt zem too. Eventually." At my expression, he added, "Probably not for a long time."
That was not comforting! Ynez yelped in protest, and Tel asked in bewilderment, "What's going on here? I was gone for one day, and now Ghallim is hunting the children? What happened? Marina!"
"But why?" I demanded of Ghallim. "Why do you want to hunt the gods?"
Ghallim-Ashton leaned across the table, eyes blazing with excitement. "For ze challenge of course! Ze gods are ze greatest challenge! Zey are crafty, and zey are powerful, and — "
I tossed aside the remainder of my cheese in disgust. (Timo, who'd been crouching under the table awaiting just such an eventuality, jumped up and snatched it midair.) "So you're like those aristocrats who hunt those poor foxes for sport?"
"Ah no, eet eez not ze same. For ze gods are worthy opponents!"
"Isn't that the same reason aristocrats hunt foxes? Because it's a worthy challenge?"
Something finally got through to him, because the fire in his eyes dimmed and he sat back. "Mmmm, I will think about what you 'ave said."
A hum filled the air, a soothing sort of buzz like a doorbell in the mind. All of us recognized Avaris' signature, an Ars Mentis Effect he used to alert people to his arrival. Ynez, who viewed him as a surrogate father, scrambled to the door to let him in. "Avaris!" she cried, and threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Avaris!"
Embracing her quickly and setting her back on her feet, the mayor looked at all of us gravely before he said, "I bring unfortunate tidings to House Criamon. Adonis bani Bjornaer has gone to House Bonisagus and made a formal accusation charging Ynez with the murder of his mother. Leona has called a session of the Areopagus to try the case. The guards are on their way now to arrest you, Ynez."
