Chapter Nine
The Magic Academy, Kingdom of Tristain, 2nd Day of Ansuz
Malicorne de Grandple was not in the best of moods.
It was the second day since the arrival of the Ostland, and Queen Henrietta was due to arrive within hours. This was, of course, a great honour, and as a proud Ondine Knight it was his duty to look his best. That meant bathing, an extensive toilette, and squeezing his rotund frame into the formal white uniform of the Order.
He had managed none of those things yet. He had risen early, and spent a several hours alongside his fellow Ondines, searching the meadow outside the academy for traces of the gargoyles that had accompanied the mysterious Sheffield, during her raid on the academy two nights earlier. They had found some shards, which Guiche was convinced came from Sheffield's gargoyles, but it had been hot, sweaty, and frustrating work.
Not the sort of work Malicorne de Grandple was made for.
But just when he'd finally managed to down a decent breakfast and get away to begin his ablutions, things had started to go wrong. One of the academy maids – a very pleasing specimen by the name of Kamille – had been found in a dead faint near the servants' quarters. Once revived, she had blathered some nonsense about a naked girl falling from the sky right in front of her.
Malicorne was, by his own admission, as lecherous a young man as one could wish to find. Seventeen years without so much as a scented note had left him desperate beyond words. But even he, who had lived his whole life in a world of magic, was skeptical that a beautiful young woman would fall naked from the sky. It wouldn't have surprised him if it was all just some prank by his fellow students.
But Guiche had gotten all excited, and now they were stuck searching the academy. Malicorne had a pretty shrewd idea of what Montmorency was doing to Guiche right now; and he deserved everything he got.
It was not until he reached the next floor of the main tower, and spent several minutes puffing and blowing at the unwanted exertion, that he got any notion that something was wrong.
It was the sound of a voice.
"Kyui! Big sister has lots of cute underwear!
It was a voice so sweet, so melodious, that Malicorne's jaded heart melted in an instant. But where was it coming from?
It was coming from along the corridor. His search had taken him to the student's quarters, and as he looked along the curving corridor, he saw that one of the doors was open.
Now that was interesting. There was no particular reason for anyone to be in their room at this time of day, and all the other doors were closed; doubtless locked. Besides, Malicorne knew enough about girls to know that they never left a door open like that; who knows what someone might poke his head around the door and see?
Barely able to contain himself, Malicorne crept along the corridor, pressing himself against the wall. It took every scrap of his poise to move quietly, to step slowly along the corridor, to not make the floorboards squeak. As he drew closer to the open door, he saw the nameplate on it.
It was Tabitha's room. Tabitha, who had vanished from the academy two days earlier. Tabitha, whose room had been locked on the orders of the Headmaster.
"Mmmmm, big sister's too small on top. She should lay an egg sometime!"
The voice was unmistakably female. Female, young, and utterly adorable!
"I guess I'll have to tie it like this! Kyui!"
"Ah! So cute!" Malicorne felt sweat beading on his brow, as his heart hammered with anticipation. "I must see her!"
Slowly, as slowly as he could manage, Malicorne leaned around the door, gazing into the room….
…and was entranced.
It was a girl, of around his own age or a little younger, with long blue hair. Her form was shapely, with breasts to rival Tiffania's in perfection. Her skin was the colour of fresh milk, her eyes wide and green.
"It's cute! I always wanted to wear big sister's uniform! Kyui!"
The enchantress posed in front of a tall mirror, clad in what was unmistakably one of Tabitha's academy uniforms. The skirt was pulled up to fasten above her hips, and the blouse was tied in a bow under her bosom; which was evidently too large for the buttons to fasten over. White stockings ran up to her thighs, and her delightfully small feet wore a pair of black student's shoes.
"Ahhh!"
The girl jumped at his cry, and turned her head to regard him.
"Oh?" she said, seeming only mildly surprised.
It was all Malicorne could do not to throw himself at her like a wild beast. He hadn't thought it possible that there was a girl like her; a girl as beautiful and innocent as Tiffania, who seemed interested only in Suleiman.
"Ah ha ha! My little fairy!" He knew how perverted and lecherous he must have sounded, but he was too lost in rapture to care. "Whatever brings you to this place?"
"Kyui!" The girl let out a squeak that made Malicorne want to wrap his arms around her and never let go. "I need to borrow big sister's clothes! She said it's wrong to run around with no clothes on, so I have to!"
"Ah ha ha! Pretty little blue fairy!" Malicorne couldn't stop himself from lurching into the room, hands outstretched. "Won't you come with me, little blue fairy?"
"Kyui?"
"I won't hurt you, little blue fairy!" Malicorne advanced on the bewildered-looking girl. "I only want to…"
"Hey Malicorne! You find anything?"
Saito. Always Saito. Saito, who got all the fame. Saito, who got all the girls. Saito!
"Malicorne, did you…" He heard Saito round the corner behind.
"Kyui!" squeaked the girl, in obvious delight. "We finally meet!"
The next thing Malicorne knew, he was face-first against the wall, in rather a lot of pain, with chunks of plaster falling off all around him. He fell back, hitting the floor with a crash. In the corner of his eye, he could see the blue-haired girl glomping a thoroughly bewildered Saito.
It was enough to make him wish Louise would show up; even if he got caught in the blast.
It was once said that to live in interesting times was a curse.
There and then, Louise de la Valliere could believe it.
The latest manifestation of her interesting life was sitting opposite her at a wooden table, in the shed the Ondines rather optimistically called their headquarters. It was a young girl, of about her own age or a little younger, with long blue hair and wide green eyes, her shapely body squeezed rather awkwardly into one of Tabitha's academy uniforms. The rest of the Ondines stood all around in a loose cluster, with Montmorency hanging around; presumably to keep an eye on Guiche. Malicorne and Tiffania sat either side of the girl, with Suleiman standing next to Tiffania.
It was crowded in that little room, making the tension worse.
"So then…you are Irukuku…" she asked, cautiously. She had insisted on handing the interview, and no one seemed inclined to deny her; not after what she had done to Saito.
"I am," replied the girl, staring at her with pleading eyes. "Please save my big sister Tabitha!"
"Your…your big sister Tabitha?" Louise was confused. "Tabitha is your older sister?"
"Kyui!"
"I don't see how that can be," Reynald interjected.
"She is so my big sister!" pleaded Irukuku desperately. She rounded on Suleiman. "Tell them she's my big sister!"
"But, why would I…?" stammered Suleiman, caught off-guard.
"You saw me at the carnival!" wailed the girl. "You're big sister's troubadour, remember?"
"Yes but…I never saw your sister. I don't know what she looks like."
The girl hung her head, in what looked like a mixture of sorrow and embarrassment. Louise regarded her critically. She did look like Tabitha, at least up to a point. The face was reminiscent, as was her skin tone, and the shade of her hair was similar, if a little darker. She could believe that they were related.
But…the younger sister? With a figure like that? And those…things that were as big as Tiffania's, and Kirche's, and her sister Cattleya's?
"What exactly happened to…Tabitha?" she asked.
"She went home to save mother," the girl said mournfully, her eyes lowered in sorrow. "But there was a man there. He was too strong for her. Even I…even Sylphid couldn't help."
A shiver ran through the assembled knights, and Louise felt the same way. She had seen Tabitha in battle, and was convinced that she was a Square-class mage; one of those rare, brilliant few able to master and combine all four branches of Elemental magic. Another Square-class mage, even older and more experienced, would have been hard-pressed to defeat her one-on-one, but with this girl and her dragon to help?
"What kind of man was he?" she asked, unable to contain herself. "How could he be so strong?"
"He was an Elf, from the south."
A collective gasp. All eyes fell on Tiffania and Suleiman, both of them looking as bewildered and frightened as anyone else.
"You're sure of this?" demanded Louise.
"I'm sure! He had ears like Suleiman, but he was pale like Tiffa! And he wore desert clothes!"
Louise sighed, willing herself to maintain a proper air of calm. There seemed little doubt that their adversary was an elf, a High Elf of the Sahara no less. They were the most dreaded enemies of the Halkeginians; more dangerous than dragons, orcs, or even Germanians at their worst. Little wonder that one of them had bested Tabitha.
But…why would an elf be wandering around Halkeginia? Elves seldom left their homeland, and although they had endured numerous crusades over the centuries, they had rarely if ever struck back.
"Why should we believe you?" It was the ultimate, inescapable question.
"It's true!" shrieked Irukuku, waving her fists up and down like an angry child.
"And your evidence?" asked Guiche mildly. That brought Irukuku up short.
"Of course it's true!" snapped Malicorne, red-faced with outrage. "Why would such a cute girl lie!?"
"Oh?" Guiche shot him a grin. "Fallen in love, have you?"
Malicorne gulped, his wrath instantly replaced with embarrassment.
"I-I-I-its nothing like that!" he babbled, waving his hands frantically. The other Ondines laughed.
"I know how to prove it!" proclaimed Irukuku, suddenly brightening. "I'll get Sylphid!"
She got up and ran for the door. As one the Ondines rose, piling out into the courtyard. Louise followed, but to her surprise there was no sign of her anywhere.
And then, a familiar cawing sound. All looked up, and there was Sylphid, descending slowly from the sky. She landed with a thump.
"Sylphid!" Saito called out the dragon. "Where did Irukuku go?"
The dragon made a strange sound. Louise could not make sense of it, but that was no surprise. Only Tabitha had ever fully understood Sylphid, and dragons could be complicated creatures at the best of times.
"She says Irukuku went to the toilet," Derflinger spoke up, rising from Saito's scabbard to let his mouthpiece move.
"So, is she really yout master's younger sister?" asked Saito. "And did Tabitha get captured like she said?"
The dragon let out a mournful groan, nodding her head slowly.
"She says yes, to both questions," added Derflinger.
All were silent, the meaning of it hanging over them like a dark cloud.
"That settles it!" proclaimed Guiche. "Ondine Knights, for the sake of our friend Tabitha, we must go to Gallia! I, Saito, and Malicorne shall to her Majesty the Queen when she arrives, and seek her gracious leave! This I am sure she will grant!"
As one the Ondines raised their wands, letting out a roar of approbation. Louise, for her own part, could not bring herself to join in. Instead, she turned away from the chanting, cheering boys, leaving them to their camaraderie, and hurried to face Tiffania and Suleiman, who were standing a little way away beside the shed door.
"Tiffania! Suleiman! A word!"
Grand Troyes, Versailles, Kingdom of Gallia
It was cold in the Grand Troyes palace.
Then again, much of Halkeginia was cold, compared to what he was used to. To one born in the hot desert lands of Sahara, who had grown up amid barren sand, shaded oases, and the gleaming waters of the sea, Halkeginia invariably seemed cold and damp.
Bidashal was not concerned about that. Nor was he concerned about being the only Elf for hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles; in a palace surrounded by humans, some of them heavily armed and proficient in the destructive applications of Elemental magic.
None of it unsettled him half so much as his host.
The room in which they stood was high up in the palace's central tower; the balcony offering a fine view of the palace gardens and the city beyond. The room itself was richly decorated, by human standards at least, though by Elvish standards the décor was excessive and tasteless. The walls were made of blue bricks, one of the few worthwhile features.
Blue, like the colour of his host's hair.
Bidashal did his best not to shudder as Joseph, King of Gallia, turned to face him. He was handsome, by human standards at any rate. His face was well-formed, like an ancient bust of some Romalian worthy, with a lantern jaw concealed by a short blue beard. But his eyes were narrow and dark, at once lifeless, yet bright with a strange, unnatural light.
"You did well in subduing her," commented Joseph. "I only wish I could have seen it; your Spirit Magic."
The her of whom he spoke lay on the grand bed behind the King; a young girl, lost in a drugged sleep, her hands tied behind her back for good measure. She was fairly powerful by human standards, but even with the help of her Familiar, one of the vanishingly rare Rhyme dragons, she had given him little trouble.
Bidashal was an elder of his kind, though he did not look it. When he concealed his long ears and walked among humans, they took him for a delicate young man, beautiful enough to be a woman. But he had walked the Earth for centuries, and was acknowledged among elves as a foremost scholar and a master of magic. Younger elves, elves like his niece Lukhsana and his protégé Ari, could trounce a dozen skilled human mages; yet a dozen of them could not defeat him easily.
And yet…this human…
"But there was something else you wanted to ask me." The King approached him, his footsteps light, his manner languid. "Feel free to ask, my friend."
Once again he had to stop himself from shuddering, to remind himself of why he had come all this way; why he had put himself at the disposal of this…
"I have not come here for my own cause," he said, in his best Gallois. "I speak for the Council, for my people."
"Ah yes…" The King seemed interested, amused even. "Your people have no single ruler, but a Council representing all their tribes. Interesting…"
He trailed off, his thoughts seeming to take him somewhere else. He did that often, Bidashal had noticed.
"The Council has a request for your Majesty," he went. "A request of the utmost importance."
"A request regarding the Void mages?"
The King's languid smile became a smirk. Bidashal did not give him the satisfaction of appearing discomfited, or even surprised. He was in a weak enough position as it was.
"Your Majesty refers to the four demons, the inheritors of Shaitan's dark power."
It was perhaps childish of him, but he was in no mood to pander to Joseph's feelings. He wasn't entirely sure the King even had any feelings.
"Curious, that you should call it that," Joseph replied, with a chuckle. "Here, we call them the four Void mages, heirs of the Founder's three sons and his apprentice, inheritors of the divine Void magic. What we call the ultimate good, you regard as the ultimate evil. Curious, is it not?"
"Perhaps it is a case of light and darkness," mused Bidashal, just to keep the King distracted. "The one cannot exist without the other."
"And yet," Joseph fixed him with a penetrating gaze. "It is a blood that runs as much in your veins as it does in mine. Yet you call it evil?"
Bidashal could not stop himself from shivering. Joseph saw it, and chuckled.
"Shaitan's Gate has become active recently," Bidashal said, unable to think of a retort. "We believe that the Void magic is responsible."
"Ah yes." Joseph stepped away from him, wandering idly towards the balcony. "Your people noticed, I see. The four Void mages have appeared, and the Holy Land responds. Strange that you should come to me with this now, as two Arysians wander blithely about my kingdom."
He turned to glance at Bidashal, that triumphant smirk once again on his face.
"You did know about the Arysians, didn't you? My friend Bidashal?"
It was all Bidashal could do not to stagger, not to fall over at the King's words. Arysians? Here in Halkeginia? For what possible reason could they be here?"
"I only mention it because of something my errant knight over there told me." Joseph nodded at the sleeping girl. "I tasked her with capturing the pair of them, a task she very nearly completed, had not one of them been hauled through a portal."
There was a strange, unsettling gleam in his eyes.
"You understand my meaning, don't you my friend? An Arysian, given to hiding his ears? An Arysian, summoned through a magic portal?"
"The fourth."
"Indeed! Now they have all summoned their familiars! And an Arysian familiar to boot! Little wonder your friend Tariq has sent you here to beg my aid!"
Joseph laughed; a mad, uninhibited laugh that sent a shiver down Bidashal's spine. Bad enough that the four Void Mages were soon to assemble, doubtless to re-enact the disaster that had almost destroyed his people. But for Arysia to be involved too?
"The Head of the Council pleads that you act to prevent these…persons from travelling to Shaitan's Gate," he replied, with all the dignity he could muster. "He is prepared, with the Council's blessing, to offer unlimited Wind Stone mining rights for a period of one hundred years."
Joseph did not reply, and Bidashal felt his confidence return. That had gotten his attention. Perhaps greed would succeed where reason had failed. Wind Stones were pieces of magic; raw magic that had congealed and crystalized in the depths of the earth. Precisely why the magic formed a particular stone, and in so doing gave off a particular type of magic, was not always clear. But all were invaluable, and Wind Stones were particularly prized for their ability to defy gravity. Airships could not function without them.
"That is…indeed tempting," mused Joseph. "But tell me, if the Holy Land is so fearful, why not simply destroy it? You Elves have the power, do you not?"
Dare he tell the truth? The whole truth? Dare he reveal what might happen if the Elves turned their magics against Shaitan's Gate? What dreadful power might he put in that madman's hands if he did?
"We understand that the Holy Land is sacred to you," he said, "and that to destroy or harm it would be offensive to your beliefs. We think it better to live together in mutual tolerance, if not harmony and peace."
Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. But would Joseph fall for it?
"You lie most eloquently, my friend." The King smirked. "But such eloquence deserves a reward. I will agree to your terms, on one additional condition."
"Name it."
"I want an Elf as my subordinate."
Bidashal's stomach churned. He had a horrible feeling about where this was going.
"I shall put it to the Council. I'm sure they will…"
"Why bother?" Joseph pointed a finger straight at him. "You're good enough. As long as I am alive, serve me!"
Bidashal was lost for words.
"Your pride will not permit it?" Joseph barked a bitter laugh. "Perhaps humans and elves are not so different after all! Not even the wise and mighty High Elves of Sahara!"
"We are very different, your Majesty." Bidashal's tone was stone-cold.
"Are we?" There was a look in Joseph's blue eyes, a strange look that set Bidashal's teeth on edge. "Some of your ancestors did not think so."
Bidashal's blood turned to ice. How did he know? How could any of them have known? How had he come into possession of the darkest secret of elvenkind?
"You see, that young Arysian," Joseph went on. "My former knight noticed something about him, you see. As he strolled about my kingdom, playing the merry troubadour, he had the curious habit of keeping his ears hidden. But when he was at the carnival, when he thought no one would think ill of it…"
"So that's how he figured it out," thought Bidashal. It wasn't much comfort, but it was better than the likely alternatives. "But either way, he knows."
"I wonder what his Holiness would say," mused Joseph airily. "He doesn't like me, you know. He calls me madman, heretic, mocker of God, consorter with elves. It's only because he knows what I am, and he's probably guessed what I intend. I wonder what he would call me if I told him the truth about the Arysians, about what he faces on that crusade he's planning. Would he call me ally…friend…brother?"
In that moment, Bidashal saw straight into his eyes. He saw, not the innocent emptiness of a simpleton, or the wild chaos of a lunatic, but something far deeper, something far worse. They were the eyes of a damned, tormented soul, of one who had looked into the depths of his being and found only darkness.
"I am…at your service, your Majesty."
"Good." That smirk again. "I am glad of it, my friend."
Bidashal felt as if he had sold his soul. But all that, for all his despair and shame, he knew he had no choice. Better to serve this mad barbarian, to dirty his hands in this lunatic's service, than to allow that secret to get out.
That secret, the terrible shame that had haunted his people for six thousand years. The secret that had made peace between Sahara and Arysia impossible. The secret that he, as the Council's secret ambassador to the King of Gallia, was utterly forbidden to reveal, or to allow to be revealed.
"May I ask your Majesty one small question?"
"Ask it."
"Why?"
That, at long last, seemed to bring Joseph up short. The King regarded him, one blue eyebrow cocked.
"Why what?"
"I understand if you care nothing for your people's religion," Bidashal went on. "My people have no use for it either. Yet you accepted our offer so easily, making enemies of your fellow nations with barely a thought. How can you do this?"
The King regarded him for a time. He seemed to be thinking.
"Well…" Joseph mused. "I suppose…I felt like it."
The Magic Academy, Kingdom of Tristain
"I am sorry, Saito. I cannot permit you to go to Gallia."
Louise heard Saito gasp. The poor fool really had expected the Queen to let him go.
But seated in the Headmaster's chair, in the Headmaster's commandeered office, Queen Henrietta was as implacable as Louise had ever seen her.
"But why, your Majesty?" Saito was incredulous. He actually looked hurt. Beside them, Guiche and Malicorne kept their peace.
"Because if you do, it will almost certainly lead to war." The Queen sighed. However cold and regal she might appear, Louise knew what she was thinking. She knew, better than most, the anguish hidden behind the facade she had learned to wear; the porcelain mask of a Queen.
"You are my Ondine Knights," she went on. "I raised your order, and knighted you with my own hand. If you were to rescue Miss Tabitha, and were identified, then no excuse of mine would satisfy the King."
"But...everyone says he's insane!" protested Saito. Louise gritted her teeth behind her lips.
"Stupid dog!" she thought. "Grasping at straws."
"He may be mad, but his ministers are not," retorted Henrietta coldly. "If he does not react, they will. We cannot hope to withstand Gallia's armies."
That was the long and the short of it. Despite both being Guardian Kingdoms, their Royal bloodlines flowing from the Founder Brimir himself, Tristain and Gallia were old enemies. Battles had raged across their shared border for centuries, one side or the other taking one city or another, only for the border to settle back again after a while. Cities like Amiens and Metz had changed hands several times, in sieges and battles so dreadful as to be engraved on the pages of history.
But as Germania had risen, and Tristain's holdings in the east had shrunk until only Guldenhorf remained. With the loss of those lands, and the manpower and revenue that derived from them, Tristain had grown ever weaker. Only Tristain's population of noble mages, proportionately larger than anywhere else in Halkeginia, had allowed it to survive Gallian or Germanian aggression in the past.
Then Reconquista had arisen in Albion, and hundreds – maybe thousands – of Tristainian nobles had defected. The vast majority were dead, the survivors hiding in distant lands. But they had left Tristain weakened, robbed of its last great strength. Of the once-revered guard regiments that had guarded the crown of Tristain for centuries, only the Manticore Regiment – her mother's regiment – remained.
That was bad enough. But Louise had known Henrietta since they were young children, a reflection of the friendship their mothers had cherished. She was privy to her Queen's darkest secrets, her deepest fears. She knew of the whispers her old friend had to endure, the angry mutterings of those nobles who thought her too young, too weak, too female to rule. She could not afford weakness, nor the slightest misstep.
She could not afford to let an old friend start a war with Gallia for the sake of one person.
"Your Majesty..." Saito screwed his eyes shut, as if fighting some terrible battle in the depths of his soul. "We can't just leave Tabitha. At least...I can't just leave her."
"I have made myself clear, Monsieur le Chevalier."
Louise stared at Saito, wondering what he would say or do. It had been a long time since she had seen him get this worked up, this angry.
"Then...I'll make myself clear."
Louise stared, dumbstruck, as Saito unfastened his black cloak, folded it up, and laid it on the Headmaster's desk. Henrietta's cold mask was gone, replaced with a look of stunned, horrified disbelief.
"Saito..."
"Ah, what can I do?" Guiche unfastened his own cloak, and did likewise. Malicorne let out a whimper, then sighed and did the same.
Henrietta looked down at the desk, unable or unwilling to look them in the eyes. Then she looked up at Louise, into the eyes of her oldest, and only friend.
Louise knew those eyes. She knew their meaning, as she knew what hid behind them.
"Does it not torment you, my Queen?" she thought. "Does he not hurt you, as none of them could? As not even I could?"
She knew what was going on. She knew the feelings that Saito had awakened in Henrietta's heart. It was a heart that had been shattered twice; once by the death of her beloved Prince Wales, and twice when he returned from the dead, animated by the dark power of Andari's Ring, to steal her away. It was Saito who had saved her, striking down the revenant Prince and freeing him from the torment of undeath.
And it was upon him, Louise knew, that Henrietta's twice-broken heart was set.
And yet he had refused her. He, whom her Queen most longed for. He, for whose company and counsel Henrietta desperately yearned. He, with whom she had taken her chance on a dark night when the rain poured down; disguised in Louise's own academy uniform.
"Oh my Queen. Forgive this Zero, this cursed Void mage. Forgive your faithless friend, who causes you such pain. But I am Louise, and I must chose."
She did not look away from Henrietta's eyes. She did not look at Saito, who was the fulcrum of all their shared sorrows.
"All my life I have done my duty. All my life I have obeyed without question, without thought. But Tabitha always helped us, no matter what it cost her. Just as Saito helped me..."
Why did he do it? Why did he put up with her? Why did he call himself her familiar with such pride? Why, when all she had ever done was beat and curse and blast him, piling her shame and frustration and loneliness upon him with every blow?
And yet, there he was.
She saw the flicker in Henrietta's eyes as she unfastened her cloak. She heard Saito's gasp as she folded it, and laid it on the desk with all the others.
"Your Majesty." She forced down the lump in her throat. "Please allow us to go, as we are. We are no longer nobles, no longer knights. Nothing we do need be visited upon your Majesty, or upon this Kingdom."
The room was utterly silent. Henrietta's face was like a porcelain doll's; the perfect, unmoving mask she had finally mastered. For a moment, just a moment, Louise thought she would agree.
"You know what I must do, Louise," whispered Henrietta, her voice barely audible.
"I understand," she replied. And she did.
Henrietta glanced at Agnes de Milan, standing sentinel by the door; as cold and rigid as any statue.
"Agnes."
"Guards!"
The atmosphere in the Ondine Knights' shed was gloomy.
The Ondines lounged about, some sitting, some leaning against the wall. Montmorency hung around by herself, carrying a carefully put-on air of disinterest. The maid Siesta stood by the door, doing her best to look dignified.
Suleiman could not help but notice the difference; a change in the air that went beyond the tension of their current situation. It was an ennui, a sense of having lost their purpose, their soul.
He had a sneaking suspicion why. Not so long ago his teachers had tried to teach him of such things, of how groups of people work, how their spirits and manners met and mingled, and clashed. A Mirza had to know such things, after all, if he was to lead and care for others. He remembered what Cyras had said of it;
Without his mind, a man is a beast. Without his heart, a man is a ghost. When he loses his mind, he loses all he has accomplished. When he loses his heart, he loses himself.
It had seemed such a simple thing, back when he had first heard it. But only now did he fully understand what they had been trying to tell him.
The Order was bereft. Guiche was their leader, Saito their strong right arm, Malicorne the rock on which they stood. All three had gone away, and they had only themselves.
He glanced up at Tiffania, who watched the scene with mournful eyes. He wanted to speak to her, to distract her with pleasant conversation, maybe even cheer her up a little. But now was not the time, nor the place. He couldn't think of anything to say, not with all of them listening.
Then the door crashed open, solving his problem for him.
"Bad news! Bad news!" It was Irukuku, in a blind panic. "They've been arrested! The Queen locked them up!"
The Ondines all looked up with a start. Tiffania gasped, lifting her hands to her mouth.
"But...how did you know this?" asked Siesta. Her question caught Irukuku off-guard, making her pause a moment.
"I...I have pointy ears!" she declared, grinning childishly.
"She arrested all of them?" asked Tiffania, beside herself with worry. "Mister Saito too? And even Miss Louise?"
"Yes, she did," replied Irukuku, her face falling as she remembered the situation. "They all gave up their capes, and she had them locked up."
The atmosphere somehow managed to sink even lower than it was before. But Suleiman's mind was awhirl, as he remembered what Louise had said.
"When we go to see the Queen, don't go! Both of you, don't go! I'll make some excuse, but you must not go!"
He had wondered what she could possibly mean; why she was so determined that he and Tiffania should not join their deputation to see Queen Henrietta. Only now did he understand her meaning. Glancing up at Tiffania, her eyes meeting his, he saw that she too had understood.
"So what do we do now?" asked Robert Joscelyn moodily.
"There's nothing we can do," replied Baldwin de Ascalon, standing up and moving to the centre of the shed. It was obvious he meant to speak, to press his case. "The Queen must have refused their request. We cannot go against her Majesty."
Some of the Ondines muttered their agreement. Montmorency humphed, evidently unimpressed.
"So...we forget about it?" the green-haired Gimli de Montoire spoke up. "We forget about Tabitha, just like that?" He looked plaintively around the room.
"She's nothing to us," retorted Baldwin coldly. "Saito can fight his own cause. There's no need for the rest of us to get involved."
Suleiman could see what he was doing. He had Baldwin down as a malcontent, one who desired status and respect, yet whose only apparent supporters within the order were the de Kassel twins. Now he was making his own bid for leadership, to step into the shoes of those now imprisoned below the academy.
"But..." it was Tiffania. "Tabitha needs our help!"
"Miss Tiffania!" Baldwin rounded on her, his aura suddenly prim and cold. "You have no voice here! Kindly keep your opinions to yourself!"
Tiffania flinched. A shiver of something ran through the assembled knights. Montmorency glared daggers at Baldwin's back. But no one stood up to defend her.
"Monsieur!" Suleiman stepped forward to stand beside her, fixing Baldwin with a cold stare. "Miss Tiffania only wished to speak her mind. Your words are unworthy."
"You have no voice either, Arysian!" snapped Baldwin. Behind him, the de Kassel twins leapt to their feet. "The Commander and Saito might put up with your foreign manners, but that doesn't mean I have to!"
Suleiman felt something dark and angry coiling in his stomach. He had sensed Baldwin's hostility for some time, but not the reason for it. He had expected a little suspicion, but in this case it seemed to run much deeper.
Either way, he would not be intimidated by it, not this time.
"You're the one on sufferance, Baldwin." It was Montmorency, stalking up to him, hands on her hips. "Or had you forgotten?"
"Be quiet!" barked Baldwin, rounding on her so hard his cape billowed.
"Oh, is that how you talk to the daughter of House Montmorency?" If Montmorency was intimidated, she made no sign of it. "Guiche let you in because he felt sorry for you; because he thought that someone of your lineage deserved better than to be a penniless knight. Shall I tell him you've been trying to take over the Ondine Knights? Not to mention being rude to ladies."
Baldwin gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists at his side. Suleiman had never seen him so angry. The other Ondines looked on nervously.
"You know, this is why Maria dumped you," Montmorency went on. "And why no girl can stand the sight of you. Why should they care for someone who despises them?"
"Why you...!" Baldwin drew back his hand. Tiffania gasped. Irukuku cried out in terror.
Then Baldwin froze, as Sevrin de Kassel dashed forward and grabbed his shoulder. Baldwin shook him off, but Sevrin grabbed him again. Their eyes met.
"Hello everyone!" The tension was shattered as Kirche came striding in, all smiles. "Jan isn't paying me any attention, so i thought I'd..."
She trailed off, as she saw what was going on.
"Oh it's you again," she said, eyeing Baldwin. "Can you handle him Montmorency, or shall I set his pants on fire?"
Baldwin snarled something Suleiman could not make out, and stormed out of the shed. Kirche sighed.
"Sevrin, I think Baldwin needs a hug," she said. "Be a dear and go give him one."
Sevrin glared at her, and stalked out after Baldwin.
"Well, now that that's taken care of." Kirche returned her attention to the others. "What's with all the long faces?"
"The Commander and the others were arrested," Reynald spoke up. "Louise too. Irukuku said they all gave up their cloaks, but the Queen wouldn't listen." Irukuku nodded mournfully.
"Oh really?" Kirche eyed Irukuku for a moment. "Well, that's tossed it right up the proverbial. Now we'll have to get all four of them out before we go."
"And how are we going to do that?" demanded Montmorency. "They'll be locked up down in the dungeon! How are we going to get them out of there, out the gate, and all the way to Gallia without being caught?"
"Simple!" declared Kirche. "We'll fly to my family's home aboard the Ostland. Jan has her all set to go, and we'll be able to get anything we need once we're there."
The Ondines looked nervously at one-another. Suleiman got the distinct impression that Kirche's homeland was not their idea of a pleasant or safe refuge.
"I think we all know what the stakes are," Kirche said, her jollity vanished. "Henrietta is no Queen of mine, so I'm going no matter what. But don't think she'll just take you back with no consequences, assuming any of us get out of this alive. The best I can offer is a good word with the Queen, and sanctuary in my father's lands if that's not enough."
"Oh excellent!" griped Montmorency. "Spending the rest of my life being deafened by brass bands! And surrounded by people who have to be asked nicely to keep their clothes on! A fine reward for betraying my Queen!"
"You don't have to if you don't want to." Kirche shot her a grin. Montmorency glared at her, then sighed.
"Oh fine! I suppose father will understand."
"Brilliant!" Kiche clapped her hands. "Tiffania, Suleiman, are you still in?"
"Yes, I am," said Tiffania brightly.
"And I also," added Suleiman.
"Wonderful!" Kirche looked expectantly at the other Ondines, who made a great show of not meeting her gaze.
"Everyone," Reynald spoke up again. "We can't just leave the Captain, Saito, and Malicorne in jail. We may as well go all the way."
One by one, the Ondine knights rose to their feet. Kirche beamed.
"Now, I think I know a way we can do this."
Next time, our heroes must bust their friends out of prison, and escape to Anhalt-Zerbst; there to plan their mission to rescue Tabitha.