Chapter Ten: Espionage, Allies, and an Unexpected Surprise
Wind buffeted the hood Caelin had pulled up around her blond hair as if it was trying to release the hair and let it fly free in the cold morning air. She shivered and stepped onto the path leading into the City of the Gods, knowing perfectly well that no one could see her. Still, it felt like thousands of eyes were boring into her as she stepped behind a group of farmers bringing their goods into the city. They were a drab, quiet group of men and women, solemn and downcast as they shuffled through the gigantic, thick gates separating the City of the Gods from the surrounding countryside. Caelin, keeping close behind the last cart, filed through the gate unnoticed.
The first impression she had of the city was that it was filled to the brim with Copper Islanders. Everywhere soldiers swaggered about looking perfectly smug in their domination of the city, servants wandered around buying for their masters or mistresses, and even a few nobles walked through the mazelike streets of the city.
I guess we know where all the nobles disappeared to from Corus now, Caelin thought as she recognized several of the nobles who had stayed in the palace, and even some of the servants. Of course, even if she didn't have an invisibility spell wrapped tightly around her, they wouldn't have recognized Caelin.
The City of the Gods was a giant warren of a city, filled with twisting and turning passages and corridors that Caelin expected would lead somewhere different every time you tried to follow them. Various shops, inns, and houses were nestled throughout the city's winding streets, but the general trend seemed to lead to the University and the School. The city, after all, had grown up gradually around the prestigious place of learning.
The people do not look happy, Baron observed from high above Caelin's head. The phoenix had offered to come with Caelin on her initial expedition into the city so he could report back to Liam, who was waiting just outside the gates, on what happened to her.
I should expect they aren't, Caelin thought back grimly, looking around with saddened eyes at the faces of the people around her. Just like the farmers she had followed into the city, the inhabitants of the City of the Gods all appeared nervous and depressed, as if every day they wondered what new horrors they would see. The Islanders have broken their spirits, every one of them. They're probably too far gone to even think about rising up against them, not to mention there aren't enough soldiers to combat the number running around here. To Caelin, it seemed like every other person she saw was a uniformed, outfitted Islander soldier.
What is your plan? You can't just let the mages catch you, Baron reminded Caelin as she wove carefully among the shop stalls, trying not to bump into anyone and cause a panic.
I'm going to take off my glamour and concentrate on looking really hungry. Eventually they'll send someone after me; I'm sure of it.
Caelin could certainly play the part. She was wearing a tattered gray cloak and had smeared dirt and soot all over her face and in her hair, making sure she looked as pathetic and lost as possible. Magically speaking, her aura was screaming out 'I'm a poor, helpless, extremely powerful mage with absolutely no training or defenses.'
Before she dropped her last shields and made sure any half trained mage could sense her presence, she double-checked the bottom layer shield she had been working on. It was an ingenious invention, designed to leave enough of a loophole for a mage to think he was draining her, but protecting the core part of her magic and preventing too much drainage. It wasn't ideal, but it would allow Caelin to seem like she was subdued when she really wasn't.
Here it goes, she mentally muttered to Baron as she released every one of her shields except the last one. Then she sat down to wait. Caelin picked the doorstep to a particularly shabby inn and hunkered down within it to watch the streets warily, looking for all the world like a street rat.
Twenty minutes, and then forty, passed by without any sign of disturbance in the streets. Caelin was beginning to wonder if all her plans were for nothing when she caught sight of a division of soldiers walking briskly through the streets directly towards her. When it became obvious to Caelin (and all of the other nervous civilians on the street) that the soldiers were headed for her, Caelin darted up, wild eyed, and shot off down the street. She wasn't really trying to escape, of course, just trying to make her cover less hole-proof. Someone would probably be suspicious if she appeared eager to be captured.
Her heart was pounding rhythmically in her ears as she sprinted down the street and in between the various merchant stands. Faces blurred together as she wove through the crowd. She could hear shouts behind her, so she knew the soldiers were still after her, but she wondered if they would catch her if she kept running so fast. She slowed her pace slightly, and didn't have to wait long after that before something hard and heavy slammed into the back of her head and everything went black.
Caelin shifted and groaned as a stream of icy cold water plunged onto her face, dragging her back from the realms of black she was drowning in. Her eyes shot open and stared into a tall man with a thin face and graying hair. He wore slightly more fancy livery than most of the soldiers she had seen on the streets, so Caelin assumed he was an officer of some sort in the army.
Without a word or a hint of expression on his face, the man dragged Caelin to her feet and down a long gray hall into another room, dropping her unceremoniously onto the floor again before moving back to the door and taking up a guard position.
"Well, what do we have here?" A melodic voice reached Caelin's ears from the center of the room and she struggled to her knees, a mutinous expression on her face. In front of her was one of the most beautiful men Caelin had ever seen; he had dark hair that was so black it had a bluish tint, brilliant green eyes, and an aristocratically refined face. He was tall and lithe, and gave the impression of having an extreme amount of energy coiled in his long limbs, energy that could explode at any time.
He made her skin crawl. "Who are you?" Caelin demanded roughly, her eyes darting around the room nervously, as if searching for an escape route. "What are you doin' with me?"
"My name is Lord Damian of Alasaria, and you have been brought to me because you are a very special little girl."
"I never known no lords before," Caelin answered with feigned astonishment, and some amount of fear. "And I ain't special."
"Oh but you are, my dear, more special than you could ever imagine. You have the Gift."
"I don't see no gift for me," Caelin said in suspicion, glancing around the room for some invisible present.
The mage laughed, sending chills up Caelin's spine. "Not that kind of gift, child, but a magical gift. You have magic."
"Huh," Caelin responded succinctly. "So what?"
"Do you have a name, little one? And a family?" Lord Damian switched tactics abruptly.
"Aria. And I never had no family. Just me."
"I suppose that's a hard life, isn't it, living all by yourself? You don't look like you get much food, and your clothes are pretty worn, aren't they?"
"Yeah, so what? I been living like this for a long time."
"Well, what if I said you could live with me, here in the school, for as long as you like?"
Caelin allowed a spec of interest and greed to show in her eyes. "Really? Ya mean it? Whatya want in return?"
"Just your service, and your permission to use your magic. I would never take that unless you wanted me to."
"I can stay here? And get food?"
"As much as you would like. All you need is to say yes."
"Take what you want. I don't need it none."
"Excellent." Lord Damian's eyes glinted sharply and he wasted no time sending a bolt of power to Caelin and attaching it to her own magic. The mage was much stronger than Caelin had been expecting, and for one terrible minute she felt her carefully laid defenses trembling under the assault, but they steadied and held under the pressure. Unlike before when she'd been tapped, instead of feeling like her magic was bleeding out of her, now it was just a slow trickle.
Lord Damian seemed pleased. He called for the guard and with a flick of his wrist, motioned for the man to take Caelin away.
"Ouch," Caelin groaned as the solemn faced guard shoved her roughly into a large room with a dusty stone floor. Her head knocked painfully against the ground, in the same place on her head she'd been hit earlier.
There were several faint shuffling noises and the sound of muffled whispers reached Caelin's ears. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked around in astonishment. She was in a huge room bear of all furniture but worn sleeping rolls, and filled to the brim with children. There must have been at least fifty, perhaps more, all between the ages of six and sixteen. They were a sad looking group, with pale, pinched faces and dark eyes that looked out sorrowfully from hollow sockets. Most sat on their sleeping rolls, quiet. A few sat in small groups and talked quietly among themselves. Some, however, the ones who looked the most exhausted and ill, lay on their sleeping rolls and didn't move at all.
Caelin felt first a flash of hot anger for the mages who were slowly sucking the life out of the children, and then a wave of panic. She hadn't expected this many children; at most, she thought there would be twenty or twenty-five. Not fifty. Caelin wasn't sure she had enough energy and power to help craft shields for fifty children, not to mention the time it would take to wrest them all from the control of the mages. It would take weeks and weeks, time in which the mages would be using the stolen power to advance ever closer to the Tortallan capitol.
"Are you all right?" a voice inquired from somewhere behind Caelin. She swung about and found herself face to face with a young girl, probably around fourteen years old, with a thin face and short brown hair. She was dressed, like all the other children, in faded and torn clothes. Next to her was a younger boy of about eleven with dirty blond hair and a round face that hadn't quite grown out of the chubbiness of early childhood.
"I think so," Caelin said hesitantly. She hadn't quite figured this part of her plan out yet; did she proclaim to the children that she was their savior right away and get their hopes up, or did she keep up her false persona until she learned her way around? "Where am I?"
"You're in the main dining hall of the City of the Gods," the younger boy informed her, sitting down with a bump on the ground next to Caelin. His companion settled slowly with slightly more grace; or was that because she couldn't expend more energy? "They caught you."
"Who caught me?" she inquired again, deciding it would be best to keep her secret until she found whom she could trust.
"The Copper Islanders," the girl answered, spitting out the name as if it burned her tongue just saying it. "Who else would it be?"
"Maybe you should tell me," Caelin replied belligerently. "I just came to the city today, looking for some place to bed down for the night, when a bunch of guys started chasing me. I just kept running, thought maybe they took me for a thief. Wouldn't be the first time. Who're these Islanders?"
"They're foreigners, from some big old island. They're trying to take over everything. They've been at the city for months now, and no one's been able to warn the king. They killed all the Masters," the boy said sorrowfully, his eyes dark with remembered sadness. From the way he talked, it sounded like the boy was educated; he had probably been a student at the school when the attack came.
"What do they want with me though?"
"You ever done anything strange? Things happen when you get mad?" Caelin nodded affirmatively. "You got magic then, same as the rest of us," the girl answered with a jerk of her head, the motion encompassing all the children in the room. "They've been snatching us up for months and stealing our magic."
"What do they need it for? What's magic gonna help in taking over the kingdom?"
"They can summon monsters, and keep the soldiers hidden, and attack our troops with it, that's what," the boy responded scornfully, smug in his superior knowledge of the magical arts. "But they aren't any match for Tortall sorcerers, so they keep us locked in here and steal our magic until we die." The boy was blunt, but his eyes reflected the depths of the horrors he'd seen in his months of captivity. "All my friends are dead now. I'm the only one left."
Caelin discreetly checked the boy and was impressed by the depth of magic he held; that was the only lifeline that had prevented him from dying with the rest of his friends. Even so, eventually his natural store would run out and he would be defenseless. "So what do we do?"
"Nothing," the girl answered with a defeated laugh. "There's nothing to do and nowhere to go. We stay here all night, and those of us that can still move around are slaves for the nobles. We get one meal a day, but you've probably had better on the streets. That's all."
"Why can't we escape?" Caelin pressed, looking for a tiny glimmer of hope. "There are only a few guards around; I bet we could take 'em if we all went together!"
The boy pointed across the room to the entrance Caelin had been thrown through. She followed his arm and hissed in surprise; a multi-colored barrier sealed the room from any outside contact. Through the shield she could see guards, but there was no way to get to them. The shield was surrounded by black scorch marks, and Caelin had no need to ask what the marks came from.
What am I going to do? she thought to herself desperately. Even if I manage to help all the kids, I won't have the energy to break that shield down.
"I bet those stupid mages aren't half as strong as my old Masters," the boy was saying, again in that scornful voice. "It took fifty of 'em just to kill five of my masters. I bet even I could take them if they weren't filthy thieves."
That's it! she thought in excitement. I bet none of those mages are powerful, except for Lord Damian. Once they aren't leaching magic anymore, that shield will come down easily. I hope. "What are your names?" Caelin said out loud to her two companions. "I'm Aria."
"Quinn," the girl answered.
"Hessilfer of Amenia," the boy responded proudly. Now Caelin understood the boy's arrogance; he was a noble. Amenia was a small but prosperous fief close to Harowyn. "But I guess you can me Hess; that's what everyone does anyway." The arrogance faded away, leaving only a small boy desperately trying not to fall prey to his fear.
Caelin hesitated for a minute; what if her plan didn't work? She didn't want to raise Quinn or Hess's hopes. But she knew she would need them to accomplish anything. Her mind made up, Caelin scooted closer across the floor and looked solemnly into their eyes. "I haven't been quite truthful with either of you. I'm not just a street rat; I'm a mage. I've been training in Corus all winter with the most powerful sorcerers in the land. And I've come to help you."
Quinn's eyes brightened and Hess opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, Caelin put a hand across his mouth and warned, "Don't say anything; the others can't know, not yet at least. But I think I have a plan to get us out of here." Quickly Caelin outlined her plan to the two youngsters in front of her, speaking quickly and quietly.
"Do you really think it'll work?" Quinn asked when she was done, hope shining in her eyes.
"I think it might, with your help," she answered. "Hess, you're going to be my test. If I can manage to get the sapping spells off of you, then you'll be able to help me because you actually have some training. Then we'll do Quinn and work from there. I need you guys to find trustworthy kids from the bunch who know how to keep a secret. Not a word of this can get out. Can I count on you?"
Two faces bobbed up and down fervently, looking with trust filled eyes at her like she was a hero of old come to save them. Caelin only hoped they hadn't misplaced their trust.
Liam hunched over his warm cider and stared around the smoke-filled common room of the inn with shrewd eyes. To an observer, Liam looked like the kind of person you wanted to avoid on a quiet night; brooding, hard-faced, and dangerous. Which, of course, was exactly the way he wanted to look; it fit his persona of a free-lance mercenary perfectly.
Because most of the patrons of the inn were avoiding Liam's small table, he was free to scan the room thoroughly. He was looking for a specific group of young men he had noticed come into the inn every night for the past week. He wasn't sure, but Liam suspected they were feeling hemmed in and trapped by the Copper Islanders' strangle hold on the city, which meant they were probably more than ready to rebel.
There! Liam sat up a straighter when a group of four young men entered the inn and headed directly for a row of empty stools at the barkeeper's counter. After ordering drinks, the four young men began a fierce, whispered debate, dialoguing back and forth passionately, but still keeping a careful watch on their surroundings.
Liam stretched and casually moved away from his table and towards the bar, where he deliberately selected a stool as close to the four young men as possible. He was pleased to see that they lowered their voices and stopped their discussion as soon as he approached. That meant they were smart, smart enough to avoid suspicion and possible detection.
"Good evening," Liam directed in a pleasant voice to the young man closest to him. He was tall and blond with blue eyes, probably of Scanran descent.
"And to you," the other man answered warily, his bright eyes scanning Liam intently. "You don't sound like you come from the city," he continued, his voice not quite accusing, but not quite friendly either. "Where do you hail from?"
"Corus," Liam answered in a soft voice, leaning closer to the young man. "I've come to help."
The bright blue eyes widened in surprise, but the young man admirably contained his emotion as he asked quietly, "Who sent you?"
Liam shook his head, surprised at the man's immediate acceptance of his words. Maybe he wasn't as shrewd as he seemed. "Do you trust everyone you meet right away?" his voice deliberately harsh with a tiny hint of threat behind it.
The man paled, and Liam noticed his three companions carefully reach for what he assumed were hidden weapons. Once again, though, his face reverted immediately to its guarded expression. "Do you think I'd be naïve enough to come to a place like this without backup? But I know you aren't a Copper Islander, so perhaps you should tell me who you are before I lose my patience."
"Fair enough," Liam said, voice light again. "I've been watching you for a week now. I think you could be of use to me, but I needed to determine where your loyalties lie."
"And?"
"I think you would relish murdering every one of these bastards that have taken over your city," Liam replied calmly. "Which makes you dangerous, because you have all this anger boiling inside of you and no way to let it out, because you don't have a plan." He paused, and smiled ever so slightly. "I have a plan."
Liam waited patiently as the blond man regarded him suspiciously. Something in his face must have seemed trustworthy, because eventually he nodded, ever so slightly. Following his lead, the three other men moved their hands away from their weapons.
"We shouldn't talk here," he answered finally. "Do you know anywhere we can talk without being overheard?"
"I have a room upstairs," Liam answered, pleased with the progress he was making. "No one will listen to us there; I'm paying enough money for my privacy."
After exchanging looks one more time, the four young men followed Liam out of the inn's common room and up the creaking stairs into Liam's moderately sized and comfortably furnished room. Out of the dim lighting of the common room, Liam could see that one of the other boys was quite young, only about fifteen, and clearly related to the leader, who Liam had been talking with. The other two were probably around the same age as the first, with black and brown hair respectively.
"All right, we're out of hearing range. Who are you, and what do you want with us?"
"My name is Liam, and I've come from the capital with a friend to try and rescue all of the captive children. Surely you know about them."
"My sister is one of them," the man with the brown hair spoke up suddenly, his eyes filled with pain.
The blond leader glared at the speaker for the interruption, but answered, "You actually think you have a chance of rescuing those captives with only one other person to help? And how will rescuing a bunch of kids help free our city?"
"Because the mages that control the city are draining power from the kids every moment of the day. If we take away the power source, we disrupt their control of the city, and maybe even the attack on Corus. My friend is a mage, and she's currently pretending to be one of the captured children, but she's really working from the inside out to get the kids out of the mages' control. Once she makes the escape attempt, she's going to need backup; that's where we come in."
"We?" The blond asked warily, not looking particularly convinced by Liam's recitation. "Why should we trust you? Why should we risk our lives on, I'm sorry to say, a rather flawed plan?"
"Flawed?" Liam responded indignantly, his pride slightly damaged. After all, as the son of the greatest king Tortall had seen in over a hundred years and a fully trained knight, he had a certain amount of confidence in his tactical skills. "How so?"
"Well, for starters, even if your friend could manage to disrupt whatever spells are on those kids, it would take an army to get through all the guards around the University. There are at least 300 Islanders in the City, and 100 of them are stationed full time at the University. And, making the great assumption that you could get those kids out of there, what then? Not only would you have every Islander guard on your trail, but you would have to drag fifty sick kids to wherever it is you seem to think they would be welcome. Do you have that much food to supply them? Does anyone?"
Liam was slightly taken back by the young man's shrewd assessment of the situation, and feeling more than a little daunted by the upcoming task. Still, he stood tall and maintained a confident but calm front as he said, "I respect your reservations, and I admit that my plan does seem a little crazy, but I'm afraid it's about the only chance Tortall has to defeat the Islanders. I'm depending upon Caelin, my friend, to take care of the guards catching us while inside the school. After that, I'll need you four to serve as guards and help with the kids. If we can steal some horses, that would make traveling easier. I have a rather large store of funds to buy supplies, and what we can't buy we'll hunt; spring is coming within the next few weeks, so the animals will be slow and stupid from hibernation. And don't worry about people being willing to take the children in; I'll handle that."
"Not enough," the blond answered promptly, although some of the wariness was slowly leaving his face and his body language indicated that he was not as tense. "We can have no secrets if we're going to work together. Why exactly would strangers be willing to provide for children that, if they're discovered with them, will end in their imprisonment and possible death? I know I would be hesitant at the best, assume you were crazy at the worst, and probably turn you in right away in any event."
This was the point Liam had been dreading. Life had been so much easier for the past few weeks living as just a normal person and not the second in line for the Tortallan throne. He would have reveled in his assumed role of surly mercenary if the situation hadn't been so dire. As it was, the freedom had been welcome. Still, there was no way to win the trust of the four young men unless he gave up all his secrets. "Well, they may not know me personally, but they most likely know of me, and certainly of my family and my father. Having the king of Tortall as my da does bring advantages and a certain notoriety."
"You're Liam of Conté?" the youngest of the four, the bright blond, demanded incredulously. "The prince?"
"None other," Liam responded wryly, having anticipated the shocked reaction.
"Prove it," the blond leader countered immediately, looking shocked but trying to maintain control of the situation.
Liam responded by rummaging in his packs and removing first the ring given to every Conté child at birth inscribed with the royal insignia, then his shield, which also had the royal symbol on it, and finally, and rather reluctantly, his crown, which was plain gold except for a single sapphire embedded on the front. "Is this proof enough? If not, I could recount to you the Conté history dating back to its origins 700 years ago, but the Islanders will have most likely taken over the entire kingdom by the time I'm through."
"No, I don't think that's necessary," the leader replied softly, obviously shocked. The other three seemed even more amazed, apparently waffling between staring open mouthed or bowing. The youngest managed to accomplish both. "May I ask, what in Mithros are you doing here trying to rescue the city, as opposed to staying safe in Corus? This isn't exactly a safe place for anyone to be, much less the prince of the whole gods-blasted kingdom!"
"Well, I didn't exactly come here with my father's approval. Actually, he probably didn't realize what I was planning until after I left. They've got more things to worry about than a renegade prince though, and besides, I'm the expendable one. They'll keep Roald under tight wraps, and make sure he concentrates on producing a son. As long as he does that, I don't matter at all."
The blond laughed at Liam's self-deprecating assertion and shook his head. "I knew the old duke was crazy, but I didn't know it ran in the family. You do realize that if things go badly for Corus, you're the only one left with Conté blood, don't you?"
"Well, there is my father's third cousin twice removed, but nobody ever remembers him. So yes, I am the only one that could theoretically inherit the crown. But you know what? I don't really care. I came here to do something that needed to be done, and if I die in the trying, then so I die. I swore to care for those in need when I took my shield, and by Mithros, that's what I'm going to do." He paused, and added a little sheepishly, "Please note that this will be the only instance in which I give anything resembling a motivational speech. That's more my father's thing."
"Duly noted," the blond answered with a laugh and the first smile Liam had seen him crack yet. "Well met, Liam of Conté. I expect introductions are in order. My name is Erik, and I was a journeyman blacksmith. Emmet, the runty looking one, is my younger brother. Our parents were killed in the first attack, along with my master. Our shop was destroyed."
"I'm Quilum," the brown-haired man who had spoken earlier offered. "My sister Quinn was captured a few weeks after the first attack. I've heard nothing from her since."
"And I'm Daryan," the last of the four finished. "My intended was raped and murdered by those scumbags." A flash of murderous rage passed over his face, leaving behind dark eyes that smoldered with intensity.
"Well met indeed," Liam murmured in response to the introductions, realizing that while he was acting out of duty to his family and his country (and Caelin), his four companions had personal vendettas against the oppressors of their city. "Are you all willing to help me? I will think no less of you if you decide to back out, but I will insist on the right to kill you if you speak of our plans to anyone."
"We are no cowards," Erik answered with a touch of indignation. "We're in this to the end."
"Good. We're going to need all the help we can get if we have a hope of succeeding." Liam hadn't expected any of them to back out, but he was still reassured by the quickness and firm quality of Erik's response.
"What do we do now?" Emmet asked, his eyes shining with fervor.
"Now we wait, and we plan."
"Oi! You ten, come with me!"
Caelin jumped in surprise at the harsh, grating voice of the guard, still not used to abrupt orders and yelled commands even after a week and a half of captivity. Caelin glanced at the nine other children around her, Hess and Quinn included, as she stood up and made her way across the giant, drab chamber to where the guard was standing, spear in hand and an unpleasant expression on his face. Of course, that was his typical expression, and if he ever cracked a smile, Caelin expected she would probably faint from the shock of it. Those nine children were the first of a total of fifty-seven that had been freed from the worst of the sapping spells. They were in general the strongest, oldest, and most trust-worthy of the group, picked by Caelin with advice from Hess and Quinn.
So far everything had been going to plan except for one thing; Caelin hadn't accounted for the absolute and utter exhaustion she would be forced to work through. Besides having some of her magic drained by the mages and the rest being spent on lifting spells from the children, Caelin hardly slept because nights were reserved for making plans, her meals consisted of dirty water, moldy bread, and hard, rancid cheese, and every spare hour was spent slaving away for the Islander nobles, many of whom she had seen and even conversed with at the palace. Every inch of her skin was embedded with grime, and to her embarrassment, she was beginning to notice a distinct reek rising from her clothes and body when she was working in the noble's rooms and away from the general stink of the chamber the children were kept in. Along with the exhaustion and terrible conditions, Caelin was simply teetering on the edge of insanity because of the stress placed on her. One wrong word, one slip of magic and the entire plan would fall into ruin and her life would be forfeit. The only reason she hadn't already driven herself mad was Baron's nightly reports on the city and Liam's progress. As it turned out, he had amassed a group of fifteen healthy young men that were willing to help them escape the city once Caelin had removed all of the spells on the children, and more were joining with him every day. Of course, that also meant that Caelin constantly worried about Liam as well, because the more people that learned of their plans, the greater the chances were that he would be caught. That was the one thing Caelin knew she would never be able to stand.
"You four are in the kitchens today, you four are in the stables, and you two are cleaning rooms again today." Caelin was drawn back to reality as the dour guard delivered their daily assignments, pointing to Caelin and a girl of twelve for the last assignment. Caelin was glad of her assignment; she was never any good at cooking, working in the stables was too energy sapping, and she had excellent cleaning skills from her long ago days as a maid in the Harowyn household. She gave a quick sympathetic smile to Quinn and Hess, both of who had drawn stable duty, before she hurried off with the other girl. The one advantage to supposedly having all magic sapped from the children was that they were given free rein of the castle while they were doing their assigned chores.
Caelin automatically started the laborious climb up the winding staircases of the school to the top floor, where all of the old instructor's chambers had been lavishly re-furnished into suitable accommodations for the various Islander nobles. It was an extreme privilege to be allowed into the nobles' rooms, one Caelin had received for her exemplary behavior and excellent housekeeping skills. Also, Caelin expected, because Lord Damian was tapping directly into her Gift and wanted her to last as long as possible.
Caelin immediately grabbed cleaning supplies from the closet at the end of the hall and entered the first room and started cleaning. There was a man lounging in a richly padded chair by the window, but he offered no more than a passing glance before returning his gaze to the book he was reading. It was a typical response: most of the nobles, and all of the mages, acted as if the children were completely invisible.
Caelin finished his room and moved onto the next, falling into a mechanical pattern. Several hours passed before Caelin finally made it to the very last room on the right. She entered without her usual quiet care, expecting it to be empty since she had never seen a hair of the person who occupied it since she had started cleaning the rooms. Caelin froze in astonishment as the door banged shut and the black-haired lady sitting on the bed, occupied with needlework, looked up and met Caelin's eyes with a pair of very familiar, emerald green ones.
Caelin gaped and couldn't quite believe what she was seeing as she stared at the beautiful woman. "Lianne? Oh thank the Goddess it's you! You have no idea how worried about you we've been. It's me, Caelin," she added as Lianne's eyes narrowed in confusion. It was no wonder, considering the state of her appearance. Even she probably wouldn't recognize herself if she looked in a mirror.
Despite Caelin's reassurance, Lianne lifted her head in a motion that reminded Caelin of the haughty Islander princesses and spoke regally, "I'm sure I have no idea who you are, but you certainly have mistaken me. My name is Lady Irena of Manchu, niece to the king of the Copper Isles himself, and you have overstepped your bounds."