CHAPTER 29: The Funeral

Alanna and her friends returned to the palace two weeks later. The evening after their arrival, Alanna found herself curled up on one of Myles' overstuffed chairs, staring at a letter that had just arrived that morning. Myles sat across from her, correcting the papers of his page students. Out of everyone in the palace, she spent the most time with Myles. Unlike her noble friends, he was quiet and considerate, funny but not immature. Unlike Thom, he didn't restrict his daily routine to sleeping, eating, and burying himself in the library. He also offered superb advice, which she found extremely helpful as she planned Jarinth's funeral.

She sighed and shifted on the chair, searching for a more comfortable position.

Myles looked up and smiled. "What's wrong?"

She held up the letter. "Do you know the sorcerer Si-Cham, Chief of the Masters at the City of the Gods?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, this is from him. He was wondering if he could attend Jarinth's funeral."

"Do you have something against him coming?"

"No, not at all—I'll write him back this evening, inviting him. But what about everyone else? How do I know who should come? Jarinth knew everybody. Which ones should I invite?"

"Don't worry about it. Not only has Queen Lianne probably sent out a multitude of invitations already, but anyone who wants to come but isn't invited will come anyway. It's not like they won't have heard about her death; minstrels have been wailing about it for ages."

"Oh," she replied with a surprised blink. "Thanks."

---

On her way back to her room that night, Jon popped out of nowhere, caught her arm, and pulled her into an empty, nearby room. "What's wrong? It's been two weeks since you got back and I have yet even to kiss you. Did we split up without my knowing it?"

It occurred to Alanna how sorely she missed being in his arms. She laughed, leaned up, and kissed him. "No, of course we haven't split up. I just wanted to make you fret a bit."

He swore and slammed his lips back onto hers, only pulling away long enough to lead her back to his room.

---

Two days later, Hanno was tried in court and sentenced to death by hanging. Alanna, Thom, and Faithful watched together as the torturer died. They walked away grimly satisfied.

On the way back to their rooms, however, any content feeling quickly vanished when they turned a corner and came face-to-face with Roger.

For a moment, the four just stared at each other, Thom, Alanna, and Faithful cold and Roger poisonously pleasant. Then, suddenly, Roger bowed and held his hand out to Thom. "You must be Lord Thom of Trebond, Alanna's brother."

Thom's eyes blazed and jaw clenched, and he conspicuously refused the offered hand.

Roger's smile widened. "It's been nice meeting you, Lord Thom. Welcome back, Alanna." He bowed and strode away.

When he was out of earshot, Alanna murmured, "You should have shaken his hand, Thom."

Thom spun around to glare at her. "Alanna, I don't think you understand. I just spent the past year in a damn cage because of that man. There's no way in Chaos I'm shaking his hand!"

"You can't so openly hate him. People will notice."

"Good! Then maybe they'll suspect him more!"

"Or maybe they'll suspect you because he's part of the royal family and you don't like him."

"What would I have to gain from the death of the King and Queen?"

"Pride. Everyone knows that you didn't enjoy your time here, Thom, and that you're more likely than anyone to want revenge."

Thom opened his mouth to shoot back an angry retort, but found he had nothing to say.

"You played stupid in Carthak so he wouldn't suspect you. Can't you do the same here?"

He glowered at her, spun on his heel, and strode off—for the library, no doubt, Alanna thought.

Alone in the hallway with Faithful, Alanna trudged back to her room, changed her mind, and made for Myles' instead. She could really use his company again.

---

Roger sank slowly into the chair at his desk. Those Trebond twins were still alive. After all of his attempts to remove them, they were still alive.

"You were stupid to keep the boy alive," he mused aloud, and then nodded. Yes, at the next possible chance, that boy had to die.

But where would that chance come from? Lovely Alanna had single-handedly built him a palace of friends, and now everybody important would intervene if they saw him struggling with anything. And as far as Roger could tell, Thom only had one weak spot: his sister.

So, to get to Thom, Roger had to get to Alanna, but he had already tried to get Alanna, and the bitch constantly managed to evade death. Roger's innumerable failures had once even led him to believe that her blood ran thick with immortality. Or maybe the Dark God feared her. Or maybe—

No! He slammed his fist on his desk and jumped up to pace his office. The girl was just a girl. He could kill her. He would kill her. He just needed to think clearly and figure out how. But it was so damn hard when she was best friends with three million knights—

Roger froze. Knights. Long ago Jonathan had let slip that Alanna dreamed of becoming a knight. Theoretically, she could. The king only had to reward her for exemplifying such chivalrous behavior in Carthak. Roald had done it three times before, though none of the men being rewarded had ever survived the Ordeal. Now, nobles tended to view it as a last resort to be rid of powerful lower-class citizens.

Roger settled back into his chair, pondering. How could he get his fellow nobles to agree with this? Only Roald had to consent, but he would never do so unless he had the support of his powerful gentry. They, however, would refuse even to think of allowing a girl to try for her shield. Such progressive ideas were too much for them, no matter the hope of finally eradicating that pesky little girl. And Jonathan would throw a tantrum if such a thing were permitted for the exact opposite reason: he wouldn't want his darling Alanna to risk her life so frivolously.

But Roger would make them all understand. Then, Alanna would take the Ordeal. Then, she would die. Then, Thom would die. Then, Jon would be as good as dead.

---

Jarinth's funeral was held five days later. Alanna didn't cry. She couldn't. She had no more tears left. And somehow she felt that Jarinth wouldn't want her to cry even if she could.

Eleni and George (in a wig and fake beard) came early and left late; they, along with Jonathan and Myles, never left her side. Thom seemed disturbed by all of the emotion—even if Alanna didn't cry, that didn't mean no one else did—and instead of mourning, emmersed himself in a long discussion with Master Si-Cham.

That evening, after a quiet supper in one of the palace's drawing rooms, guests began to disperse. Soon, besides Eleni, George, Jon, and Alanna, only Si-Cham and Thom were left. Then Thom left, and Si-Cham walked up to Alanna and bowed.

"I am sorry we haven't met before, Lady Alanna. I am Si-Cham, Chief of the Masters at the City of the Gods."

"Master Si-Cham, I'm honored," she greeted smoothly, curtsying and shaking his hand. "Thank you for coming today."

"I hate to draw you away from your friends, but I would very much like to speak with you privately."

"Of course." She skimmed the room and spotted a door not far off leading to an adjacent parlor. "Let's step into here…."

Once in the small parlor, Si-Cham shut the door carefully and then refused the seat Alanna offered. "I don't have much to say, and I fear the little I do you won't accept easily."

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you. What I have to say concerns your brother, Thom. He wishes to study at the City of the Gods. He is a very intelligent boy—too intelligent, if I may. He is like a newborn babe that can fire catapults. It can hit the desired target easily, but does it really know the damage it does? Does it understand the effects of its weapon?

"I told Thom he was welcome at our university—as is everyone. I fear, however, that he will not learn to understand the effects of his power, but only to build it up and become more powerful, which, in turn, may lead to more damage."

Alanna waited for Si-Cham to continue, but when he didn't, she commented softly, "Master Si-Cham, I understand your concern, but I don't know how I can help. My brother and I love each other very much, but I haven't seen him for six years. I don't know him as well as when we were children. I don't know if I can dissuade him."

"He will not be dissuaded," Master Si-Cham cut in firmly. "I've tried and failed, and if I failed, then there is nothing anyone else—not even his adored twin sister—can do."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"Nothing. I'm simply warning you. I've met families who have reunited after years of separation, and they struggle because both sides expect the same people they split from ages before, and they are disappointed by the new people they don't know anymore. Don't be expecting your brother to return to his ten-year-old characteristics."

Alanna rubbed her eyes. But she loved Thom as a ten-year-old. "Will he always be so angry?"

"I would suggest you not pray for changes you can't control. If he loses his anger, he may replace it with another feeling equally as troublesome or worse." When Alanna didn't reply, he bowed. "That is all I have to say. Thank you for your time."

Alanna curtsied mechanically, and then he was gone.

She collapsed into one of the chairs lining the walls. She had thought she had her old brother back. Now not only had she lost Jarinth, but she had also gained a stranger for a twin.