Disclaimer: I Melanie, did not and will not steal or claim any of Tamora Peirce's characters, settings, plots, or ideas that are not of my own creation (although I wish I did) as my own let alone her books themselves. All of the above that are discussed, mentioned, or talked about in any of the Oh Wonderful Writer Above's work belongs strictly to her and not to us unworthy ones who do nothing but drool over her brilliance. Those however that are not in her books belong to me, me, and only me because I am the one who slaved over a slow, stupid computer creating them and will not have my hard work be taken for granted and put in another persons' fan fiction. Gasps for air ok. is that all? Oh it is? Ok, story time children! Oh, and don't hesitate to notice I refrained from using too many (or in some cases none) author notes for those of you who ignore them anyways. . .puffs out chest waste of time.ungrateful . . .

Chapter 1 /b - A Night in the Life of the Scanran Court

Silky locks, red streaked gold in color, fell in a cascade of curls down eighteen-year-old Alianne of Pirate Swoop's exposed back as she nervously waited to descend the stairs in the surprisingly well-kept palace of the Scanran king, Maggur. She wore a champagne colored gown made of soft velvet. The delicate petticoats were the lightest crinkled gold silk with an embroidered border of beaded roses to make the whole thing set correctly. It was a Tortallan style gown and she felt extremely out of place. Amongst all of the pale, blond haired, blue-eyed ladies, she was a dark stranger. She had at least gotten Uncle Numáir to place a charm on a small bottle of ointment so that her sharp eyes would appear a light color that was bluer than blue when she allowed it drip into her eyes. She enjoyed that five seconds every morning when she could feel the cool, refreshing swirl behind her eyes. Magical. As for her hair, she noticed to her dismay that if she were to spy at the palace as long as she hoped to she would have to cut the dye she used in half. It would be less than acceptable for her hair to noticeably turn an entirely different color under the accusatory gazes of the Scanran court ladies. Better to stretch it out. Thankfully, she had calculated correctly, and though she did not get the strawberry blonde shade she had hoped for, at least it was a nice shade of red-gold. The effect was nonthing less than mesmerizing as she stood gracefully among the wave of blue gowns. Apparently, it was favored in Scanra for the young women to wear blue, since they assumed would look flattering on them (which in most cases it was) but since just about ninety percent of the ladies there wore it, it looked rather, no really boring.

Aly quickly swallowed a wave of nervous nausea and fanned out her skirts as they called out her assumed title. She only hoped that no one knew the fief that bordered the River separating Scanra nd Tortall. Jerking up her chin and pulling back her shoulders, the teenager lurched out of the heavy, dark doors and stood atop a red-veined marble staircase. Remembering she was here to be a spy for the crown, she began to think of how to act the part of a well kept, Scanran girl. Cocking her head ever so slightly she spent a brief minute overlooking the court, trying her best to look the slightest bit obnoxious. A great deal of young men stared anyways, transfixed on this somehow exotically different beauty who burned with a fire that seemed to radiate off her like a light in the dark.

"Alianne of Drought's Valley is Welcome by his majesty and his kingdom." (A/N: I know! I know! Really cheesy but I was stumped.) The jester called out loudly.

i This is going to work. I don't care what they say. /i , Aly thought profusely. i I'll show Da! not only will I be the best spy in Tortall, I'll have the enemy eating out of my hand, waiting to obey my every whim. . . /i she smiled at the thought, her perfect white teeth teasing a pining sigh from a young man below. i You're becoming more and more like your mother every day /i , another part of her said wickedly. Shuddering at the thought, she realized that everyone was looking at her. Aly shook the thoughts from her head and began to slowly descend.

Almost to the bottom, Aly heard a hushed murmur, "Look at 'em men starin' all hungry an such at 'er."

Refusing to turn, she continued her descent but was forced to when the crowd gasped as another woman shrieked loudly, "Can't the wench walk faster? It aint like we got all night!" Aly's face burned with humiliation but she quickly schooled her face into a calm, nonchalant manner. A useful trick she learned from Lady Keladry back at home. A grumble and a push later, a woman was sent rolling down the staircase in her direction, screaming shrilly the entire way.

Without making a noise, she swiftly dodged her off to the side and made a swipe at her, hoping she could slow the unfortunate woman's fall. The woman thrashed so wildly it was nearly impossible for Aly to safely get near her until she hit the ground at the bottom of the stairs with a thump and a sickening crack. Suddenly disregarding her previous plan to remain unnoticed, Aly flew down the stairs to the woman's side, examining her with calculating eyes. The woman, in her mid twenties was short, meaty, and heavy boned - not very attractive by the Scanran court standards.

Aly was preparing to check to see if any bones were broken but thought better of it, nearly a second too late. Noble girls out here are not supposed to know anything about fighting or tactics. Healing perhaps but not the ungifted sort. All she could was pray that the crowds attention had been on the woman, not her, a lowly slip of a girl with not even a name in the court records. "Mithros," Alianne began in quick, fluent Scanran, her eyes slowly surveying the room's company and their reactions. "Do you think she's hurt?"

i Goddess, I sound like an idiot. She just fell down all of those stairs, of course she's hurt. /i

"Anything broken you suppose?" she asked a pale blond boy sweetly, feigning ignorance. He looked the same eighteen years as her. When he looked up, she was startled to see that his emotional eyes were not a common shade of blue in the country but, faded green flecked with blue-gray. As if a picture of the ocean had been put away for a few hundred years and had faded into the depths of the canvas. She swore she could almost see the waves gently slap against the rim of his eyes…

i Stop it! /i her inner self screeched, i You'll ruin everything, falling in love with a foreigner. Remember all the others? /i Aly ignored the voice in her mind. The boy looked harmless. A servant most likely, though there was something about his searching gaze that unnerved her.

"She just fell down a fell down i those /i Milady," he pointed up at the stairs, "What do i you /i think?" His cultured drawl absolutely dripped sarcasm.

Aly blinked, hurt by the conjecture that she was ignorant. i Did he just do that to me? i she thought, unbelieving. i Isn't that what you /i wanted i him to think? /i her more practical side reasoned. She pushed the contradiction to the back of her mind. i I don't care. Time to fight fire with fire as Da always says. /i

"Of course I think she's hurt you dolt," was Aly's hushed whisper, "You don't think I know that?

Lets not forget to mention to her nose is obviously smashed into the shape of something that resembles a squash that fell off a three story building... I highly doubt she was born with it that way."

Aly refrained from smiling but she allowed the corners of her red painted lips to be tugged in the tiniest of grins. To her satisfaction, her grim humor left the boy speechless.

"But of course you wouldn't know that because you probably think its normal. Any one can see that. By the look of you, I'd have to say your mother slammed your head into a wall when you were born. My apologies."

The boy frowned at the jab at his mother.

Bending down carefully, Aly pretended to pat the woman's arm in sympathy to mask her actions. "Does this hurt?" she murmured softly, picking up her hand and gently and briskly poking and prodding selected spots on her hands and fingers.

"What do you mean?" She grunted. The result was a painful snort. "My nose feels terrible."

Aly was patient. "I mean does it hurt when I touch you? Here? Okay, how bout here?"

"My hands are perfectly fine. If only you would get yours off me- ouch! Okay yes it hurts there. . .and there. . .and. . .Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Luckily for Aly, the woman was in too much pain to make any sounds loud enough for anyone other then the two teenagers to hear.

"I think her arm is broken right there above the elbow, you see where its swelling? I wont be able to tell from this angle. Its possible its just badly bruised. A few broken fingers, fractured wrist and I think she might have done ok in the legs department but it's hard to tell when your sitting on them, if you know what I mean."

The boy, looking shocked, leaped nimbly off in a short whirl of green and silver cloth, quite different from the blues, golds, whites, and the occasional cream and whatnot tunic or sash here and there . After the boy's announcement of her injuries and a brief chat with the head of palace healers, the woman was carried off on a canvas stretcher that sagged from her weight.

"His majesty would like to speak with you if your ladyship pleases," a young serving boy told her as soon as the woman had disappeared out of view into one of the servant's wings.

I Uh oh /i , Aly thought in a panic as she quickly stood. i It's my first day; I can't have done anything wrong yet. /i

"Tell him that I'll be there in a minute," she snapped bluntly. "I need a minute alone." The servant's already large pale eyes grew even wider than she believed possible.

"Are you ok milady? Not anyone can withstand an order from him." He paused a second. "'Less ya wants ta' be gutted nice an' messy like.I'll tell 'im you'll be righ' ova."

About to refuse, Aly thought better of herself. It wasn't a good idea.

i It's not the thought of being skinned alive and hung over the palace walls that gets me /i , she assured herself on the way towards the dais. i It's the getting skinned alive and getting hung over the palace walls because they uncovered my identity and got all the information that they could from me is what I'm afraid of /i . With the most charming smile she could muster, Aly dipped a low and sweeping curtsey, skirts spread around her. "Your royal Highness."

(A/N ; Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! It's a cliffie! This ish mai 1st eva fanfic.ive had odders but my comp neva worked.. Ahem.ok sorry. You must think I'm a crappy writer now huh? Ok, fine then! Be that way.oh. So some of you did like it huh? Well in that case bows low and elegant thank you! Thank you all! tearsok, please review.I welcome constructive criticism.if you're going ta flame me at least have a good reason. )