19 . 11 . 09

So it seems that WriMo is helping me to churn out some quality work, at least for now.


Nre invited Iriana to tea, lamenting that she rarely got to see her friend, and since Iriana had arrived they'd barely spent any time together. Iriana accepted straightaway – she'd been worried about Nre from the beginning of the ordeal, which is what prompted her to take over some of Ceilear and Mittlan's care. Even the lessened burden of dealing with two whiny children, however, didn't seem to detract from Nre's worry.

"Nre," Iriana said, calling her friend's attention back to the piece of tart that the woman held very neatly in a position halfway between her mouth and the table, with no apparent desire to move it in either direction.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Nre said, moving the tart closer to her mouth, then changing the direction and putting it on her plate instead.

"How are things with you and Carvin?" Iriana asked shrewdly, noting the distraction in her friend's eyes and the dark circles beneath them.

"They're—well, as good as they can be," Nre said with a pause. "He's just so tired, and busy. You know." She prodded her tart without thinking about it, ramming it into a small sandwich.

Iriana nodded, but didn't say anything. After a moment, Nre began to speak again.

"I just miss him, that's all," Nre said slowly. "I always feel like he's off somewhere far away whenever these political issues come to head from time to time. And now, with Lilliana missing, too..."

A pained expression flitted across her face for a moment. Iriana put her hand on top of Nre's.

"But," Nre soldiered on, "that's not his fault. And I don't blame him at all. I just—well, like I said; I just miss him. If Lilliana returns safe and the country isn't in turmoil, everything will be fine. Carvin will be sure of that. I'm mostly worried about Lilliana and Rose. Time is stretching on, and they haven't found anything new."

Nre closed her eyes.

"I just want all of this to be over, Iriana."

Iriana nodded, and the two ladies sat there for a quarter of an hour in silence, letting each other's presence be a balm for their anxiety until, when the servants came to clear the table, they were both smiling. They didn't smile because anything was better, but merely because it was a comfort to know that they weren't alone.

"Shall we go see if Karl's discovered anything new?" Iriana asked as they left the room.

"Discovered anything other than a particularly pretty female servant, you mean?" Nre said, half in jest, though her eyes betrayed her mistrust of the man.

"Yes, other than that," Iriana said lightheartedly, knowing Nre's dislike and passing over it deftly.

"You know, I think he really might fancy you," Nre commented.

"Mm," Iriana hummed abstractly, glancing at an oil painting of King Thomas on the wall. His blue eyes gleamed black for a moment, and the woman looked hurriedly away.

"I hope you're not taking his advances too seriously," Nre said carefully, unsatisfied by Iriana's neutral reply.

"Not too seriously," Iriana said heavily, but she grinned at Nre. "I'd be a poor fiancee if I did."

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten about that particular situation," Nre said with a grimace. "When are you going to break that off?"

"I'm not," Iriana said, with a touch of defensiveness. She thought Nre's complete disregard of Faidn as a reliable candidate for anything overstepped the bounds of realism just a little.

"You're going to marry him?" Nre asked, looking over at Iriana in surprise.

The younger woman looked back, her darker blue eyes meeting Nre's icy ones.

"Yes, I am."

"Why?" Nre asked.

Iriana took a breath to reply, then realized she didn't know, exactly. Nre saw the confusion on her face and stopped walking in the corridor, drawing Iriana up short with her.

"You don't have to," she said quietly.

"I know I don't," Iriana replied, organizing her thoughts. "But the entire affair is so complicated. The people already barely believe I can be a competent ruler, and having another tick against my name is just one step closer to revolt and revolution. Now, maybe I'm blowing things just a bit out of proportion," she allowed, as Nre raised her eyebrows, "but surely you see where I'm coming from?" She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked away from Nre's piercing stare as her confidence waned slightly. "I – I said yes, Nre. I'm not sure exactly why, but I said it. And, what's more, I don't regret it."

Iriana started walking again, and Nre followed, but silently. Iriana reached the door and opened it, looking at the sickroom as a whole. Only Faidn and Karl were in the room; everyone else was gone for the moment, engaged in other tasks. Faidn was beside Rose's bed, and Karl was pacing.

Karl usually paced the sickroom, holding the book. His stride held a swagger, despite the intensity of the concentration he was devoting to the book. His fingers flipped the pages with dexterity, following lines of text, then closing the book. His face was furrowed in thought, though still handsome as always. After a few moments, he would open the book again, flip a few pages, follow a few lines, and then close it again. He was constantly muttering to himself, though everyone in the sickroom had grown so accustomed to it that they hardly paid the unintelligible stream of words any mind.

Iriana noticed that this time, however, he was not muttering at all, nor was he closing the book.

"What did you find, Karl?" she asked, walking up to him.

She could hear Nre following behind, and she felt Faidn's eyes on her back.

"The words are changing more than just Lilliana's name, now," Karl said, halting his stride next to Iriana and thrusting the book in front of her. "See?"

Iriana watched, barely believing her eyes as the ink flattened into lines and rearranged itself on the page, writing new sentences and moving old ones about. The adventure was no longer set in stone. She thought she saw a tendril of ink leap off the page and onto her arm, but a quick glance revealed nothing there. Iriana shook her head, and Karl pulled the book back.

"So, what does that mean?" Faidn asked impatiently.

Iriana jumped; she hadn't heard him arrive. He was standing directly behind her, so close that his deep voice gave her a shiver.

"I don't know yet," Karl allowed.

"How long has it been doing this?" Nre questioned, watching the ink with fascination.

Iriana stared, too, entranced with the patterns.

"For a few hours, now," Karl said, flipping back a few pages and pointing. "They were washing dishes, and Lilliana was washing her hair, and then the words went crazy. Instead of an easy fight against a few cronies, Derwin was injured and barely fought them off."

Looking at the now stationary words, Iriana recollected herself and looked away, flexing her fingers nervously. She felt tension, as if tiny threads encased her fists, but a glance proved nothing there as well.

"Are you alright?" Faidn asked, noticing her jerky movements.

Iriana nodded and managed a smile, but Faidn didn't look convinced. Karl's continuing explanation, however, drew his attention back to the book.

"It seems that the story is more or less going according to plan, but things are changing along the way. I suspect Derwin is trying to keep it moving along the same mode as much as he can, especially after his near-death experience back at the pond."

"Swana needs to know this," Faidn said, stepping toward the door.

"I already told her," Karl said with irritation at Faidn's sleight of his thinking, fixing the man with an unpleasant look. "After this meeting adjourns, she's going to come take a look at the book for herself."

"Is Lilliana alright?" Nre asked, drawing the conversation back around to what she considered to be the most important point.

"She's not injured at all, if that's what you mean," Karl said. "Assuming we can get her out, she'll be no worse for the wear."

"We will get her out," Faidn corrected, seeing the expression on Nre's face.

"You can't know that," Karl said, glancing at Nre, then glaring at Faidn. "Don't lie to her to get on her good side."

"Don't be so negative," Faidn retorted. "We have Swana—"

"Swana is not infallible," Karl said pointedly. "I've known her a lot longer than you have, and she doesn't fix everything. Sometimes she messes things up, too."

Iriana felt very small all of a sudden, as she sensed that Faidn and Nre did, too – they'd been banking their hopes on Swana with a sort of childish perspective of the woman as an all-knowing, never-failing savior. Now reminded of her humanity, the situation suddenly looked much more bleak.

"Can you talk to them?" Nre asked doggedly. "Maybe they have some ideas."

"I've tried to enter to the book again, but Hughes has woven the spell tighter, so I can't get in," Karl said. "I can't even send a thought through the blasted webbing."

"So they have no idea that we're trying to get them out," Nre said, staring at the book.

A line of ink slithered out and coiled around Nre's neck. Iriana closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was gone. She felt a pair of eyes on her, and she looked over into Karl's penetrating gaze. It made her want to hide and run toward him at the same time; she felt her knees weaken slightly and she wondered why on earth she was acting so oddly. Karl smiled suddenly.

"I have that effect on women," he said casually, answering her thought.

She blinked, then realized he must have been reading her mind. A very, very disturbing thought.

"That's rude," she said shortly, the strength coming back to her knees.

"What is?" he said, feigning ignorance.

Nre and Faidn looked at the both of them, trying to figure out what they missed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Iriana said, crossing her arms and glaring.

"You're very cute when you're annoyed," Karl said.

Faidn shifted positions and coughed, as if to make sure Karl knew he was still there, though the fairy was most assuredly aware – and might have perhspas said that precisely because Faidn was listening.

"Stop changing the subject," Iriana said shortly, taking a step closer to Karl. "Promise me you won't do that again without permission."

"Do what again without permission?" he said, taking a step closer to her.

She raised a finger, and found herself very close to touching his nose with it. His eyes stared into hers, and she glared back.

"But, Iriana," he said after a pause in which Iriana was trying very hard to remain frustrated with him, because she knew she had good reason to be. "Would you give me permission?"

"No," she said instantly, imprisoning her hand in the clasp of her elbow once more and taking a small step backward. She felt herself run into Faidn, who had appeared suddenly behind her.

"Then I shan't ever get the chance if I don't do it without your permission. So, whether or not I promise, it would still be rude. I'd rather be only rude, and not break a promise, too," Karl said, stepping toward her.

She was now very definitively sandwiched between two men. Perhaps emboldened by Karl's brazenness, Iriana felt Faidn very cautiously place a hand on her arm – making both of them aware of his presence. Karl's eyes flickered down to Faidn's hand, then up to his eyes. A smirk sat on his mouth like a cat on a windowsill.

"Don't," Faidn said over Iriana's head.

Her back was barely touching him; she felt his voice vibrate dangerously in her shoulders. The conversation had gone from coy to cool in a matter of moments. The issue no longer seemed to be whether or not Karl used magic to read her mind, but something bigger.

"Really?" Karl said, his voice easy but his posture tensing.

"Both of you," Nre said tersely. "Stop having an ego-war and get back to the business at hand."

"We can't do anything until—" Karl started, but then Swana walked into the room. "—Swana gets here," he finished, smiling. "Here you go, Captain."

He tossed her the book. Iriana felt her stomach lurch, then sag with relief as Swana caught the book. Faidn took his hand from her arm hurriedly and stepped away, toward Swana. Iriana followed, rubbing the warm patch on her arm and wishing for it to distribute through the rest of her body.

Karl showed Swana the twisting words and asked her what she thought – Iriana tried to keep her eyes off the book, but had trouble doing so.


Every day brought the Tyra closer to Winsome castle, but fresh dangers beset their path. Centaurs were everpresent, causing them to scramble off the road at least once an hour to avoid altercations. Lilliana grew impatient with the delay caused by hiding from the centaurs, but Derwin's healing arm kept them from battling the creatures outright.

With painfully slow progress, they emerged from the Alabaster Wood and started the last leg of their journey – the perilous thoroughfares of Sentis. They were always on the watch for highwaymen and men who acted like beggars in order to pick the pockets of those who came close enough. Lilliana took to wearing the locket around her neck, so as to be sure it wasn't taken from her pocket, though the magic it radiated made her jittery with uncertainty. Keeping a powerful magical token close to a person's body was dangerous enough, and Lilliana had long been feeling the negative effects of the Natalie Locket, though she'd kept her weaknesses hidden from the others. Attaching it around the neck, however, gave the object potential for dangerous control, if the person wasn't strong enough to withstand its influence.

Lilliana tried not to think of this as the locket thudded against her chest in time with her steps.

Poverty-stricken towns filled their sight as they continued, until they could no longer imagine the happy, bustling cities of Tyrinth. As they drew closer to the castle, they saw wagonfulls of stone wheat, evidence of the menacing curse's spread.

"This... has never happened before," Derwin said to Lilliana as they passed a pile of discarded crops.

The wheat stalks were fine as paper and broken, but stoney grey and slate-like. The wheat berries fell from their fragile heads, blending into the pebbles and rocks on the path.

"If you're trying to scare me, it's not working," Lilliana said, but the usually sharpness to her tone was gone.

The adventure was starting to wear on her, and ever since the encounter by the pond, she'd been less sure of her own independence – seeing Derwin look anxious when he thought she wasn't looking had more of an effect on her peace-of-mind than she thought it would. She'd always wanted to be free of adults, but it seemed she depended on them more than she'd originally anticipated.

And, if Derwin could hear her thoughts, he'd say that that wasn't such a bad thing.

She frowned.

"I'm not trying to scare you," Derwin said, narrowing an eye at her in mild aggravation – truth be told, she was getting better at showing him some respect, but her attitude was starting to grate on his nerves. "I'm just telling you the truth."

"I suppose the next thing you're going to say is, 'Well, Lilli, now you should get out of the book.'"

He was silent. They trudged along the path, weaving in and among people. Francis and Deborah continued a lively conversation about elves and giants beside them, completely ignoring whatever Derwin and Lilliana were saying.

"Well?" she nudged.

"I haven't heard anything more from the people in the castle," he said quietly.

"Huzzah!" she said, breaking out into a smile. "Perhaps they've decided to let me have my adventure, then!"

"I hope not," he said, with that look on his face that made Lilliana want to scream. There was something he wasn't telling her, and she knew it.

"Why?" she asked, for the hundred-thousandth time.

"Just trust me."

"Why can't you trust me?"

"I can't trust you until I know you trust me."

"That doesn't make any sense at all!"

Movement ahead called Derwin's attention away from the argument. The way the tall man was moving through the crowd— This is going to stay the same, he realized.

"Lilli," he said, "do what I say."

She opened her mouth to retort, but the situation recalled her strongly to the one by the pond. She closed her mouth and nodded.

"When that man – the tall one, there – comes up to you, use your magic to probe his mind. You'll find something there, from Roger I think, and you'll know what to do."

"Is he going to attack me?" Lilliana asked, spotting the man instantly.

"I'll take care of that. You just get that information."

"But, your arm—"

"You're going to have to trust me if this is going to work," Derwin said.

They looked at each other; the gaze was flinty and wavering, but finally Lilliana nodded. They continued along the road, staying mostly together as they pushed through the crowded streets. The man was making his way toward them, and Lilliana felt the thrill of fear and adventure spike through her body. Her heartbeat quickened; she could almost feel its echo in the cold metal locket, which was pressed against her skin. Derwin squeezed her hand. Instead of glaring at him, she squeezed it back. They were going to do this, together.

As soon as the man was close enough, Lilliana muttered a word and flung her magic at his mind, embracing herself for the impact. As soon as the first tendril touched him, her thoughts were full of him. She immediately began sifting through the immediate, fleeting thoughts to find something important, something buried or locked away so he wouldn't forget it.

Through the haze of her magic, she barely saw him draw a dagger to her neck.

In that moment, she almost drew her magic back to attack him – she almost lost her concentration. But at that last second, she closed her eyes, remained still, and focused on sorting through his mind. And an instant later, the dagger was gone. She heard sounds of a scuffle, but she focused on quickly finding whatever it was she was looking for before the man was dead.

And then, she had it. It was instructions to guard oneself against the Natalie Locket's magic, which was protective when around the Drey, but destructive elsewhere. Already, she had begun to feel it wear away at her stamina and concentration. Now, with this information—

She mumbled the word and twisted her magic back from the man, around the Locket, instead. She opened her eyes, feeling energy renew her limbs and mind. A complex spell now cushioned her magic and her body from the effects of the locket. The man lay dead at her feet, Deborah and Francis were pushing towards them again, having been separated in the crowd. Derwin wiped his blade on the man's shirt and sheathed it, left-handed.

"Now, do you trust me?" he asked, barely winded.

As much as it hurt her pride, Lilliana nodded.

"I do."

Derwin glanced at their two companions, who hadn't quite reached them yet, then looked back to Lilliana seriously.

"I want you out of the book, because you're going to die if you stay in," he said. "That's how the story goes. You and Deborah and the princess all die, I kill Roger, and the world lives on."

"But if I die here, I won't really die," Lilliana stammered, her voice rising slightly.

"You will."

Lilliana wanted to accuse him of lying, but found that she couldn't. He wouldn't lie. Not about that.

"What do I do?" she whispered; Deborah and Francis had just arrived.

"Get out," he said, hopelessly, then turned to explain the situation with the man to the other two.

Lilliana began to think very seriously on how to accomplish this task.


All the delegates had left, but Carvin and Faidn remained in the conference room. Carvin had his head on his arms and had recently stopped muttering about something. Faidn was pacing. They were both trying to ease out of the political headaches before they went to dinner, and neither of them was being particularly successful, as most things seemed to have political implications just then.

"I'm going to marry her," Faidn said suddenly, arresting his motion. It sounded like he'd been wanting to say that for a while.

"I hesitate to say 'congratulations,'" Carvin said into the table, then lifted his head from his arms and looked intently at his friend.

Faidn was facing the other direction.

"How'd that happen?" Carvin prompted lightly.

"I asked, and she said yes," Faidn said, resuming his pacing. "I was under the impression that that's how engagements normally happened."

The conversation had the air of false indifference. Faidn walked to the door and turned around.

"I'm to look for a new general, then," Carvin said, his eyebrows coming together in thought.

"Not now," Faidn said, noting the added lines on his friend's visage. "It's customary for engagements in the upperclass to be drawn out, yes?"

"Listen to you," Carvin said, distracted from his new problem of finding a general and fixing his friend with a very odd look. "'Customary,' 'upperclass,' – what's gotten into you?"

"I've been looking into a few things," Faidn shrugged, still pacing.

Carvin was not fooled by his friend's affected nonchalance.

"You don't look into things, Fai," Carvin reminded him. "You jump into things with whatever knowledge you may happen to have."

Faidn was silent. His feet traced a pattern into the wooden floor.

"You're nervous," Carvin stated. "You like her."

Faidn shot him a look.

"Why don't you want to like her?" Carvin asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

"Because she's a princess," Faidn said in reply, but the word didn't sound so loathsome coming from his mouth as it normally did.

He stopped when he reached a wall, but didn't turn around.

"But she's not just a princess. You can't judge an entire person on one section of their personality, on one position they were born to fill," Carvin said.

"But I can't ignore it, either," Faidn ground out, lifting a fist like he was going to slam it into the wall. He let it come to rest gently against the wall. He spoke again, softly. "I can't ignore that."

"You need to understand it and look past it."

"I don't understand you finer folk," Faidn said, almost viciously.

He turned around to look at Carvin.

"You're scared because you do understand," Carvin said quietly.

Faidn whirled around and left the room.


Something like a face-off! Opinions?

Captain Fantastic: --laugh-- A few words, here and there, made sense. Brava. As a point of interest, do you know any Italian, or were you just throwing out an Italian farewell just because? The situation is very tricksy-turnsy, hmm? Yes! I think Swana and Nai would have been very good friends – although having Nai as a friend would interminably change Swana's character, just by her mere presence. In a good way, though; Swana is in the tough position of having very few peers, and gaining a peer who is so joyful would help her to be less serious all of the time, methinks.

Mazkeraide: Well, for whatever reason you do that, it makes me laugh. --chuckle-- Interesting theories on Rose. Ohh, spider-babies. --laugh-- I'm imagining small children leaping from building to building, shooting webs everywhere. Isn't that a safety hazard? --scared face-- You suspect Swana? Verrry interesting. Although, I would like to point out that I mentioned Swana as a well-respected peacemaker. She has settled many political conflicts before, so she's not completely out of her league.

Lillian Marie Evans Potter: Yes, Swana's decision is a little controversial... hence why Carvin has some issues with it. Poor fellow. Hmm, what do you mean about explaining the sub-plots? You mean in the author's notes, or in the story?

Pimpernel Princess: HA! Rose and Karl! --dies laughing-- That is a most excellent pairing. I believe I am going to ship them now, no matter what Cadmus says. --gets a death-glare from the dragon--

Faylinn: Interesting speculation... --grin-- You're right. Someone should get to run off with Karl one of these days. And Iriana does seem like a good candidate. Hmm. Evil is good, too. Evil is always good. --laughs at the oxymoronic statement she just made without realizing it--

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