Disclaimer: The characters and story outline belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm a usurper.

CHAPTER 14 – RATS

The sun was slowly creeping over the western plains, leaving an unusual array of colors. Numair stood at his window staring at the greenish hues that speckled the usual oranges and purples of a desert sunset. Sunsets were usually colored with variations of red for a reason. Green, a color that fell on the spectrum between yellow and blue did not belong in a sunset. Numair had a creeping sensation of foreboding, as if something horriblewere on the way.

He was dressed for the banquet, but was in no hurry to be in Ozorne's presence again. He had decided to spend a little time updating his knowledge on the Graveyard Hag. He turned his attention back to the book in his lap, but didn't get to read so much as a sentence before he heard someone knock on his door.

He opened his door to find Lindhall Reed standing there, dressed smartly for the banquet. "Good evening Arra – Numair, I'll never get used to it. How are you?"

"I'm good, considering I'm still in Carthak." They shared a knowing smile as Numair stepped back and ushered his friend into the room. He closed the door and sent black fire to the corners to ward the room. He wasn't sure if Lindhall had come to talk to him about any private matters, he just hated the thought that he couldn't have private conversations.

"I hear negotiations did not go very well today," Lindhall started.

"That is quite an understatement. The lead negotiator walked out in a huff."

"Do you think it will be straightened out?" Lindhall asked absentmindedly. He looked like he was trying to find a way to say something difficult.

Numair patted his shoulder. "You and I have been friends a long time Lindhall. Just say what's on your mind."

Lindhall looked relieved. "I wanted – I intend to take you up on your offer. I've turned in my resignation. Will I still be welcome in Corus?"

Numair's face split into a grin. "Really? You'll come back with us?" He was so excited he felt like whooping. "Yes, of course you're welcome. Why in the world would you be so hesitant to tell me that?"

Lindhall looked like a weight had been taken from him. "I thought you would be disappointed in me. I have spent a long time helping as many slaves as I could. Now I'm walking away."

"You've done more than could ever be expected of you, and it's time for you to live your life."

Lindhall sat in a chair by the door. "I am so grateful you see it that way. I won't be leaving the slaves to their fates either. Others will continue for me."

"There was never any question. You are a good man. I wish I was more like you."

"Now don't sell yourself short. You have made your old teacher proud in many ways. You are like a son to me. You have even carried on my chosen profession and done an amazing job."

Numair swallowed hard. He smiled and wondered what to say. Lindhall could not have given him a greater compliment. He whispered a hoarse, "Thank you, sir." And a silence fell and hung for a moment.

At last Lindhall smiled and stood, "It has been driving me crazy all day. What was that you added to Miss Daine's necklace?"

"Oh, an anti-poison ruby." He automatically looked to his remaining ring.

Lindhall smiled a sly smile. "Ahh so that's where your second ruby ring disappeared to."

Numair blushed involuntarily. "Yes, one of the pair that you sent me as a gift. I hope you don't mind."

Lindhall looked like he was considering something. "Are you this generous with all your students?"

"The – the truth is Daine is -- special. I don't – we have a friendship. Fate has thrown us into battles together where we have had to rely upon the other completely. I like to think I'm generous with all my students, but I know it isn't the same." He shrugged nervously. "And then I've made some stupid mistakes while here that let Ozorne know I care about her welfare. Additionally, you know what it's like when you have a student who is unique in their own right and…"

"It's all right. You don't have to defend your actions. Actually, I think it was a wise move. I admit I'm surprised that you surrendered a gift like that, but it shows me you have your priorities right. You have always had a better conscience than most of my students. Most black-robe mages don't think twice of using words of power for gain. You always worry about the consequences. There is a reason the Gods chose to bestow the level of power they did on you."

Numair shifted uncomfortably and blushed deeper. Once again he was at a loss for words. Finally he said, "All this praise is not good for my humility."

"Well I'll stop it then." Lindhall smiled. "So you think Ozorne will target her?" Numair nodded. "You do realize the ruby can only protect against outright poisons?"

"Yes. But it will slow down some other potions. If, for example, Ozorne tried to drug her with a sleeping draft, it would take more than average and she would wake up quicker than he would expect. That's true of dreamrose, sassapen, molentile oil, and the like. Hemlock tea and belladonna oil would be counteracted because the ruby sees them as poison, since they will kill a person in large quantities."

"My boy, you could be a magical encyclopedia. You know that right?"

One hour later Numair was sitting next to Varice at yet another banquet. This time they were on a series of broad, shallow terraces overlooking a decorative lake. Numair could barely see Daine and Kaddar as they chatted happily. Meanwhile, Varice had been talking his ear off. He was barely listening to her. He kept thinking about the strange sunset and wondering what weird event would happen this evening. The only thing he was certain of was that the Gods were far too imaginative to send lightning again. That was barely a comforting thought.

"Arram, you are a million miles away. What are you thinking about?" Varice's voice broke through his thoughts.

He turned and tried to smile in a friendly manner. He didn't quite make it. "Things aren't going well, Varice. And can't you please call me Numair?"

"Things aren't that bad. It may seem like it now. But I'm sure it will get better tomorrow." She waived her hand as if pushing negative thoughts aside.

"Did you know Ozorne didn't even bother to attend today?" He watched her face for a reaction and seeing none he said, "You know it never ceases to amaze me. You don't get wrapped up in anything. Nothing affects you – you're oblivious. I've lost count of how many parties this is now while the people in the south of this country starve. Last night a statue came to life and charged over to tell him the empire was forsaken. Now here we are in our finery again, as if nothing happened. Don't you ever get tired of frivolity?"

She should have been insulted, but "oblivious" seemed to be an apt description. With another waive of her hand she answered, "I am not going to let those things ruin his party, Numair. His Imperial Highness was simply in a mood. Etiakret will come to your people tomorrow, all smiles and conciliation – just you watch. Try the dormice, won't you? They're rolled in honey and poppy seeds and saffron. They are quite lovely."

He imagined the pained look on Daine's face at the thought of Dormice as snacks. He took one politely and she smiled. Motioning around them he asked, "How do you manage seating arrangements with this many people without running across a few feuds? I doubt if I could."

She beamed and looked around them. He quietly tossed the dormouse into the pond and looked back at her innocently. It may be a delicacy (especially since it was spiced with saffron) but to him it was not something for human consumption. He hoped a pond inhabitant might find it tasty. He thought about the field mouse he had snatched from beneath Alanna's foot and wondered again at the way she had looked at him after.

Varice, meanwhile, was rattling on about the pitfalls of hosting parties. It was like noise to him. He wondered if she had always been this irritating and, if so, how he had failed to notice before. Numair suddenly realized Alanna was looking right at him. She seemed very amused that he was so obviously not listening to Varice's diatribe. He shrugged apologetically. He saw her cover her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"…really good aren't they, Arra--- I mean – Numair. Would you like another?"

"Umm, no, I better not," he said, trying to sound as if he were tempted. "I have to save room for other indulgences." He nearly laughed at his own flippancy.

Throughout dinner, Varice continued to boast about various events she had planned. He tried to nod occasionally and look interested. But he was too busy looking for the impending disaster to really hear much of what she said. He was beginning to think maybe he had misjudged the signs when Varice told him she needed to go to her "masterpiece".

Musicians were tuning their instruments as several slaves pushed a large metal cart slowly down the line of tables. The cart held an immense cake that was an exact replica of the palace, right down to each bay, ell and tower. He could see why she was proud. Looking at it with his magical vision, he could see traces of her light blue Gift glittering from it. Clearly the confection would not hold together without a little magic. It was gigantic and looked truly delicious. Varice beamed happily as the crowd applauded.

Varice offered the pastry knife to Ozorne so that he could cut the cake, but he smiled and indicated that she should have that honor. She bowed graciously and turned to tend to her task. Then suddenly, she shrieked. From somewhere, Numair heard the sound of breaking glass followed by dozens of horrified screams and gasps. Hundreds of black and brown rats began to pour from a hole in the front of the cake. Their numbers seemed endless as if a portal from another dimension had opened there and the creatures were swarming through. A few tried to scamper up Varice's skirt. Numair saw Alanna race forward, reaching for a sword she didn't wear. The mages seemed to be dumbfounded, trying to decide how to destroy the rodents without injuring Varice.

Numair stood, intending to pull Varice from the sea of rats with his own Gift, when he heard Daine cry, "Stop!" He stared at her afraid she would try to control this onslaught and that it would endanger her. Rats were definitely servants to the Graveyard Hag. If there was any doubt before, this put an end to it. "I said, stop!" He watched her copper fire grow and burst, flooding the dirty creatures and keeping them still.

"Imperial majesty!" someone cried. It must have broken Daine's concentration because the rats broke free and six of them flew right at her face. She slammed her power into them killing three instantly. One caught her sleeve with its teeth. She shook it away. Numair sent black fire to torch as many rats as he dared without endangering the girl. Then he realized the unknown man was still yelling, "Majesty, even you can't continue to ignore the portents! You must –"

Emerald fire illuminated the man. He was a Carthaki noble and he was being burned by the emperor. He shrieked only once before being consumed by Ozorne's magical tantrum, though the smell of charred human flesh remained.

Numair saw Daine's magic swell and capture the rats again. Now her orders, if there were any, were silent. She looked furious and her power reached a pinnacle Numair had not seen before. To him, she was lit brilliantly by her wild magic. At the zenith of her fire, the rats turned and rushed back into the cake. They disappeared into whatever hell they had come from and the cake collapsed.

Numair pulled his bottle of wakeflower from a pocket and handed it to Harailt, motioning toward Varice. He climbed over the table and rushed to Daine. Cupping her lovely face in one of his large hands, he pleaded, "Are you alright? One of them bit you --"

"Didn't even nick the skin," she halted him, holding up her arm to show the rip in her sleeve. "It was only rats, Numair."

There were thousands of things he wanted to say. Part of him even wanted to scold her for using so much magic. He wanted to hold her and thank the Gods that she hadn't been injured. He didn't do any of that. He turned and looked at the chaos around them instead. Slaves hid in the shadows, whispered arguments hissed above the murmurs of the crowd, and Alanna was whispering something in Kaddar's ear.

Finally, he said, "We need to get out of here before the sky starts raining blood or something equally pleasant. Where's Ozorne?"

The emperor was gone.

Varice rushed over to Numair and clung to him sobbing. He patted her back, consolingly. But his eyes were on Daine, who was now talking with Kaddar. Alanna, meanwhile, was glaring at Varice, who seemed to think she was attached Numair's chest. All around them Carthakis and Tortallans alike talked in whispers of the ominous signs. Numair saw Kaddar leave Daine's side long enough to say something to Alanna and then return to lead Daine away. He felt a lump in his throat as he watched the two exit.

Alanna came over and answered his unasked question. "She wanted to leave. They are going back to the menagerie. I think I'm calling it a night. I suddenly have the incredible urge to pray."

"As do I," Numair stated sardonically. "I'm going to escort Varice to her room and then do some research." With a significant look he added, "Do you know much about the Graveyard Hag?"

Alanna seemed to stop dead in her tracks. Her eyes opened wide and she reached to her neck for something that didn't seem to be there.

Numair asked a nearby noble where he might find some sassapen powder for Varice and the man said he could have some sent to her room. "Sassapen?" Alanna asked.

"For dreamless sleep," he answered. He led Varice toward the door.