Erm, yes, I am horrible at updating at , considering I post most of my recent chapters up on LJ. XD I'll do better, I swear!

Disclaimer --- While I do wish that I had a hand in writing up the Tortallan universe, we all know that the ever-fabulous Tamora Pierce was its sole creator. So yeah, I don't own these characters. At all.

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Chapter 4

Meetings

"Numair," Alanna blinked. "Wasn't Jon behind you?"

"He certainly was," Numair responded, stepping out of the marbled room. "Is he still back in the other room?"

"If he is, I wouldn't know," the lady knight examined her surroundings. "This wasn't the same hallway we were in minutes ago."

Numair Salmalin raised an eyebrow. Like Alanna, he swiveled his head around in search of Tortall's king, to no avail. In fact, they were no longer down a narrow hallway. Beyond the room concealed by the tapestry was an open chamber, littered with paintings and suits of armor on the sides. A lone door was at the end of the room, runes decorating the top. This sort of phenomena was beyond anything he'd ever studied in his books.

While Numair looked on in awe, the Lioness was becoming even more nervous. If they were in this area, then Jonathan was elsewhere. The King's Champion could not have the king of Tortall lost in the Immortal Realms. He didn't even have an heir yet, he should not be endangering himself! "We need to go back."

"Of course," Numair replied, snapping out of his wandering thoughts. He turned around to open the door for the lady knight, but found nothing behind the tapestry. "Lioness, I believe we have another small problem."

He pointed to where the door was supposed to be. "I don't think we can make our way backwards."

Alanna groaned. Brilliant. Just more stress than she needed. Almost hopelessly, she grasped the pendant around her neck, checking to find a hint of blue aura anywhere. Seeing nothing, she attempted another method. Probing her mind, she reached into her Gift and searched for her connection with the Voice.

There! She felt him. He was just fine. She probed his mind to see if he would respond. A large spark ignited and set her Gift afire. Out of surprise and unable to move further, she terminated her magic and gasped for breath. Numair was at her side immediately, concern showing in his face. "Did you find him?"

"He's fine," Alanna rubbed her temples to ease the headache that presently arrived. "I just couldn't reach him. Maybe I'll try again later. But for now, I suppose we should keep going."

Numair agreed with that decision and started heading towards the only direction they were given. When both sorcerer and knight reached the door, Alanna turned the knob and pulled. She froze.

"Oh! Pardon me!" a voice cried out in surprise at the other end.

"I told you I heard people, Princess," a large, muscled, dark man said, his voice booming. "Although, I think these bunch we can trust not to be reckless."

Numair bowed deeply at the slender brunette, while Alanna fixed her startled expression to that of a calmer one. The lady knight inclined her head towards where she and the sorcerer came from. "I'm afraid this room is a dead end. We were just walking out."

"There used to be another door in here," the young lady next to the large man said. Her gaze was unmoving and her astonishing silver eyes were facing the tapestry that Alanna and Numair had appeared out of. "Is that not where you came from?"

"It is indeed, princess," Numair answered. "But I'm afraid if you plan on making an exit the same way, you'll find that our means of entering this room has disappeared."

The princess turned her head towards Tortall's champion. "Are you not Sir Alanna, King's Champion of Tortall? I do not recognize your companion..."

"No need for such long introductions," Alanna smiled tentatively. "But I am Alanna, yes. My friend is Numair Salmalin, a sorcerer."

"One of the king's finest, milady," Numair corrected.

Alanna rolled her eyes. The princess smiled and patted her companion. "This is Zeph. Or Zephyrus Muhassin Tasikhe. He's a prince in his own right, although from what I take it, he is not very near inheriting the throne."

The other man smirked. "No, I think my older brother enjoys his rule too much for that. Besides, I rather like being free to do what I want elsewhere."

Numair took a slight step back and narrowed his eyes. "You are Emperor Ozorne's brother?"

Zeph shrugged. "Speaking in blood, yes. Though I do not care for his regime or his ideals. But Alanna the Lioness? That is a name everyone in Carthak has heard. You Eastern Landers have quite the legend surrounding her. It is a pleasure finally seeing the real figure."

Alanna blushed. She was never going to get used to the praises people continue saying about her. "All outlandishly exaggerated, I'm sure."

"I am Alexa of Danne," the girl politely dove into a curtsey. "And all formalities now aside, I would like to point out that I feel another door has come to fruition. Since we cannot seem to go forward, and you cannot go back, perhaps we can all band together and walk in the same direction? I hate to be troublesome, but while the gods have their plan, Zeph and I are not keen on such minor disagreements."

The Carthaki nodded. "The princess has a sort of...foresight. She managed to find me struggling through a maze back there. I am no sorcerer, so her Gift certainly helped."

Tortall's lady knight turned to Numair, her Gift projecting her thoughts to Numair. I don't see the harm in joining them. Besides, you seem to be taken with the girl.

Numair nodded. "Although, wouldn't the gods be angry at all this alliance forming?"

"We shall come to that if it comes," Zeph chuckled. He held his arm out for the princess to take and led her out towards another room. "Let's go, before this next door disappears just as yours did."

Behind the Carthaki and the princess, Alanna walked, deep in thought. She frowned and turned to Numair. "Alexa of Danne. Is she Tusaine?"

The sorcerer nodded. "Crown princess of Tusaine, actually. Though the title means nothing in Tusaine. Female heirs are pressured upon to marry well, and her husband would be the next ruler. This particular one has been blessed and cursed by Gainel himself."

"How so?"

"Her Gift is severely strong, which explains why she is able to make outlines of everything around her. But she's completely blind, Alanna."

The Lioness watched the princess and realized the reason for Zephyrus' taking particular care to lead the girl. When she turned around, it was to signal to Alanna and Numair that she had found the room with the newly "opened door."

Alexa of Danne, crown princess of Tusaine, was by Tortallan standards a beauty. Her hair was tied up into a neat braid to her side, and she was dressed plainly in a riding skirt and tunic. She couldn't be more than 16, and she seemed more perceptive than people give her credit for. Alanna puzzled over this as she followed the girl into another room.

Numair, however, had other thoughts in his mind. Namely, if the crown princess of Tusaine, a girl most well-known for her Gift, and the best fighter of Carthak were here, who else had appeared in this competition?

"You know, Alanna," Numair spoke to his friend, "I'm beginning to wonder if this is a competition at all..."

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Jonathan of Conte, King of Tortall, and Voice of the Tribe of the Bazhir to the South, did not believe his bad luck. Ever since he had been upended from his study and dropped into a mockup of Pirate's Swoop, he knew it wasn't a good idea to do anything rash. And yet, here he was. Alone.

The king had turned around, saw Numair walking into a room behind a tapestry and followed. But when he reached the tapestry, there was no door to open. He scowled, disbelieving, and summoned up his Gift. Blue fire washed over what he supposed was the door, but there was nothing that could induce it to open. After a third try, his forehead was sweating, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. "Of all things holy..."

He heard footsteps near him. Jon's eyes brightened. Perhaps Alanna and Numair had made their way around the room. He headed towards the voices and stopped in his tracks. Two men rounded the corner and went towards the Tortallan king's direction. One of them—a long-faced, heavyset man dressed in noble livery—wore Tirragen colors, while the other was unfamiliar to Jon. The second man, leaner and taller than the other, was the first to spot him.

"Oh? You there!" he spoke hoarsely, "No use skulking around in corners, we've seen you already."

The man's companion turned his head towards Jonathan's direction and stiffened. Before he could react however, Jon nodded at him and curled his lips upward into a small smile. Once he approached, he clasped his hands with the man from Tirragen. "Myscha, this is more than a surprise."

"Indeed," the one called Myscha replied, his smile forced. "Although why I should be as surprised to see you here is beyond me, considering."

"Who is this, Lord Myscha?" the other man asked, puzzled. "I take it you know him?"

Myscha watched Jon's cool, sapphire gaze. He turned to his companion. "He's Tortallan, like me. Lord Jonathan of the house of Naxen. Jon, this is Count Peldor, from the Copper Isles."

Jon took a bow and smirked when he faced the floor. If only the lord of Naxen could hear the lies now! "Prince."

"Humph," the prince replied warily. "I've heard of Naxen. The lord and ambassador has a reputation that shines as largely as his father before him."

"Then you know that the current lord doesn't speak very much about his younger cousin," the king of Tortall replied. "I'm afraid I've crossed him a few times."

The Tirragen lord nodded. Count Peldor scratched his head and looked around. "Were you walking alone this entire time? You should just come with us, Lord Naxen, who knows how the others will come at us. Strength comes in numbers, no?"

Rather than reply, Jon shrugged. He wasn't very sure whether to trust this lot, especially when the gods designed a competition against those Chosen. If it was indeed a competition, what then? These men would as soon as turn on him. But he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. "I suppose."

"Good," the count replied. "We were heading down that way, there seems to be nothing behind us."

Without waiting for the other two, the Count of the Copper Isles headed forward. Myscha of Tirragen hung back to walk with Jonathan. After some distance was made between them and the count, he leaned in towards his king. "Highness, you might have to watch out for the good count. He may be generous now, but he isn't very far removed from his royal cousins. And we know the royal family is still resentful for your deposing of their daughter."

"Just as I am still resentful for Tirragen's treachery," Jon said evenly.

Tirragen's lord straightened, as though he had been hit. "How long must my older brother's actions dwell upon the rest of Tirragen?"

"If I recall, Myscha," the king replied, "You were one of the officers who raided the castle on the day of your brother's death. While I have pardoned everyone who had been involved in the raid, please excuse me if I don't yet trust anyone who tried to have me killed."

Jonathan's pace became faster as he fought to catch up with Count Peldor. He turned around and smirked at the Tirragen lord, "Although, I do thank you for the warning and the secrecy. Bear in mind I will be watching my back. From the count's and yours."

And I am highly prepared to escape if necessary, he thought to himself. Jonathan went back to his own thoughts, wondering if Alanna and Numair met with the same problems.