Lisaykos, Is’syal, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 5th day, after the fifth bell – Foskos Time

  "Fetch a mantle," I told Twessera as soon as the fifth bell rang. I covered my own head with my hood. "I know of a delightful little place down the Southway my daughter-by-marriage took me to. This will be my treat. The food is as good as my own table, and half the court meets there with hoods up. I've already reserved a dark, quiet corner table so we can talk."

  We window-shopped our way down the Southway. I forgot that Twessera was passionate about weaving and embroidery and that the Southway included Is’syal’s fabric district. I didn't want to lose my table, so I promised her we could shop on our way back.

  I didn't expect family when I walked through the door of the little cafe. Suddenly, my nine-year-old grandson appeared in front of me with his hand already positioned for a bowing obeisance. It was my misfortune to be too tall, so every eye in the little cafe was already on me and Troy.

  "Young man," I put a restraining hand on his shoulder, "I do have my hood up."

  "Oh," Troyeepay's face fell. Then his shoulders drooped, and the rest of the boy sagged in place.

  "I may be incognito, child, but that shouldn't stop you from greeting your grandmother," I held my hands out to him.

  "Grandmom!" Troy ran into my arms. I picked him up and spun him around. I didn't miss all the hands hiding smiles around the room.

  "I didn't expect to see you on this trip," I put Troy back on the ground. "Where's your mother?"

  "This way, Grandmom," Troy pulled on my sleeve, dragging me into the dining room and leaving poor Twessera smiling in our wake. The host was hiding his own smile.

  "Daughter," I winked at Oyyuth under her hood of forest green with embroidered golden yellow ears of barley—the colors and emblem of the Kas'syo brewery.

  "Will you and your colleague join us, Mother?" Oyyuth asked, "Or are you here on your own errands?"

  "Thank you, daughter. This is a delightful surprise, but I already have a table," I nodded to my delightful daughter by marriage. "This was a sudden and unexpected trip for me."

  "I heard about the Revered One's mishap on the kitchen stairs," Oyyuth was thoughtful. "I hope she has good prospects for recovery. She isn't as young as she used to be. Emily would be upset if anything happened to Lyappis."

  "Emily?"

  "Emily likes and respects the Revered Lyappis," Oyyuth said. "Did you not know?"

  I had to shake my head, "I did not. I know the two are on friendly terms, but Emily isn't the sort of person who reveals what she thinks about other people.”

  Oyyuth laughed, “Yes, I can see that.”

  “Now you have aroused my curiosity,” I pulled out a chair and sat. “When did Emily tell you about Lyappis?”

  “It was when Tom came for his first visit," Oyyuth said. "She related how Lyappis wrapped you up, along with Usruldes the Wraith and the Queen, and sent the three of you home so Emily could recover from her fever in Truvos without any of her usual captors lurking, which is how she phrased it. Emily was impressed that a retired great-grandmother could evict a revelator, the avatar of a god, and the king's spymaster for being overly protective. Then, Lyappis imported the Revered Huhoti and the Heir of Pinisla to entertain Emily while she recovered, which made the Prophet happy. Oh yes, Lyappis made quite an impression on the Prophet."

  “Fascinating,” I sighed. “The Revered Lyappis does resemble a force of nature at times. After she fell last night, the folks at the palace got her to a healer in time; she’ll be back to her usual self in a few days.”

  "Grandmom, are you heading back today, or could you come to our house for dinner?" Troy asked.

  “Troy, manners,” his mother chided. “You are welcome to stop by for dinner, Mother, if you’d like. We’re having elk roast tonight with Emily’s wheat noodle and cheese casserole dish.”

  “If I might impose upon your guest room for tonight, I will come for dinner.”

  “Excellent,” Oyyuth beamed. “Dinner is two water marks after the seventh bell. You can bring Hekees down to use Cadrees's shed if you want. It might save you some time in the morning."

  “I will do that. Until this evening, daughter, Troy,” I waved and then joined Twessera at my corner table in the back of the dining room.

  “I know you like pheasant,” I said to Twessera. “The mushroom, turnip, and pheasant pie here is delightful. Skip the ice cream. Mine’s better.”

  "But Mistress," Twessera grinned, "your ice cream is in Aybhas, and this is Is'syal."

  “Minor details. Their ice cream flavored with rose oil is not bad, I must admit,” I shook my head and then looked at the menu board on the wall. “Oh, now that’s interesting. They have fatted goose liver paté today. And twice-cooked purple wet weed? They’re making purple wet weed? Twess, flag down a server. I want to know if the purple wet weed is cooked with or without gypsum.”

  “Without gypsum, Ma’am,” a suddenly appearing server said. He was a trim halfhair in a white apron over a brown tunic.

  "How did you ... ?" I wondered.

  “My best magic skill is short-term precognisance,” he shrugged. “It’s handy for knowing exactly when someone has a question or wants to put in their order.”

  “Ah! Then, I will have the goose paté – I assume that comes with bread – and a side of purple wet weed, now that I know you won’t be destroying the flavor with ground gypsum. Twess, anything catch your eye?”

  “I will follow your advice and try the pheasant pie,” Twessera said to the server.

  “An excellent choice,” the server made a note on a pad of paper. “Our cook just made a new batch of pies this morning. I recommend some sweet butter on the side. The butter goes nicely if you melt it on the top crust and then break open the pie to let it run in. I would pair it with a bottom-fermented lager, served cold. And for you, my Lady," he nodded at me, "the paté has a lot of fat in it, and the twice-baked purple wet weed is finished with brown butter. To pair it, the right wine – and it must be wine, not beer or ale – should have some acidity to balance the fat. It should be bright or fruity but without being sweet. A rose would work, as would some of the middle reds."

  “Have you something in mind?” I asked.

  “If you would give me a moment, I may.” He sketched a bow and vanished. I had just enough time to find the sweets section of the menu board when our server reappeared with a tasting bowl of red wine. He placed it in front of me with a flourish. I picked it up, sniffed, and then sipped. It was a good wine with a nice bite – not too heavy, fruity, but not too sweet.

  “I believe this lovely wine from the Surdos Valley will be a worthy accompaniment to your paté and purple wet weed if it meets your approval . . .?"

  “It does,” I nodded. “Bring an extra bowl for my colleague.”

  “Mistress!” Twessera tried to protest. “I can’t. It’s much too fine for—”

  “Hush,” I lightly slapped her wrist. “I should not drink an entire table cask of wine on my own, and I know that you are no longer a minor."

  “But—”

  “No, no buts, Priestess Twessera. Plying you with alcohol is part of my plan. So, how is the visit to the Arnmay family going? Do not feel obliged to be tactful if the Arnmay clan is a bad match for you.”

  “It’s not that,” Twessera looked a little panicked. “It’s just . . .”

  Was it a mistake to ask how my arrangements for an Arnmay marriage were working out?

  "What's wrong, Twessera? If the Arnmay family is not a good fit, let me know, and we can start over. I should have asked you beforehand, foolish me."

  “No, it's just ... well, the head of the household is so eager for this to work. It's off-putting."

  “Trolubos Arnmay? Eager? Really?” I had a hard time imagining the staid and businesslike Trolubos acting eager.

  “My mom always described Trolubos as calm, cold, and calculating,” Twessera remarked. “Ever since I arrived at her residence off the Northway, she’s been smiling, friendly, and cheerful.” She’s eager for me to like her, her house, her business, her family, her son Onsus. She's open to marriage for raising children, given that both Onsus and I have career ambitions and that we chase our own gender under the sheets. Trolubos doesn’t match what I was expecting. I don't understand why she acts desperate for me to marry Onsus. I'm so confused by her. Even Onsus mentioned that his mom hadn't been acting like herself since I arrived to visit.”

  “Might there be some trade agreement attached to the marriage that you don’t know about?” I asked. “Trolubos may be trying to make a good impression to cement a favorable trade arrangement or better business relationship with your family’s merchant house.”

  “Well, that would be something my sister might do without consulting me," Twessera said bitterly.

  “I made my arrangements with your mother, child. I had some inkling about your sister’s relationship with you.”

  “Sorry, Mistress,” Twessera folded in on herself. “I misspoke—”

  “Hush,” I flicked the back of her wrist, “our food is here. What about Onsus? You’d be marrying him, not his mother, after all. What does he think about the arrangement?”

  “If it were just Onsus, I think we'd get on alright," Twessera admitted. "If something opened up at the Healing Shrine, he'd happily follow me to Aybhas. Given what he does at the Fated Shrine, he's confident he could find a position."

  “What does he do?" I realized I didn't know the details of his employment. I know only that he worked somewhere in Kamigishi's bureaucracy.

  “He keeps the account books and the calendar for the city’s civil court.”

  “He’s right,” I nodded my agreement, “he’ll have no problem finding a position.”

  “And he has his own assets to set up an independent household removed from his family in Is’syal, capable of raising our children.”

  “Still keen on a position at the Healing Shrine?” I prodded. “Upset that being in Is’syal is cutting you off from opportunities in Aybhas?”

  “Well, yes,” she nodded, looking a little hurt.

  “Again, I am remiss for not explaining my thinking and plans for you, Twessera. Is'syal currently suits your talents for both conducting research and handling Coyn. Sidhulboy has a position open with a unique opportunity only available in Is'syal. I suspect she created it with you in mind because she knows you're considering an Arnmay wedding. The post is really two half-time positions combined in one. Half of your time would be spent compiling and categorizing all the archived healer documents for all of Is’syal’s healer chapel shrines. The records go back two hundred years. It’s the longest-known continuous archive of healer records that we know of.

  "Twessera, you would get to pick how to do the compilation and how to categorize healer responses to patient requests. If needed, you could consult with the Queen and her finance officers for their new statistics techniques. You would partner with Sidhulboy to report results since she's funding both the omnibus study and the pilot training program for Coyn. Before I forget—the other half of the position would be to train literate Coyn for appropriate attendant roles in our chapel shrines for treating Coyn. I know you're good at the research end of things and excellent at managing more intelligent Coyn. Sidhulboy hasn't advertised the opening yet. She wanted to see if you wanted it before she posted it.

  “Sidhulboy's quite interested, by the way, in how injury and illness rates differ between Cosm and Coyn. And just establishing a detailed baseline of injuries and treatments for mounts would be a great advance forward, now that the Queen is teaching how to use her numbers again. Twessera, this thing that the Queen calls statistics might help improve how we allocate healing magic. What Sidhulboy has proposed is the first step in understanding how to do that. Your fish face, dear Twessera, is such a work of art that I believe it has achieved profundity."

  “What?!” Twessera finally blinked.

  “And staying in Is’syal for a few years would give you access to the Queen, for all those interesting questions you have for her about casting charms through the Great Crystal of Tiki.”

  “Did Kayseo tell you—”

  “No, Twessera,” I was enjoying this. “Thuorfosi told me. I have some questions about Onsus, whom I have never met. I knew of him based on what I heard from the Holy Kamagishi, Presiding Craftmaster Oyyuth Kas’syo hat Gunndit, the Queen, and a few others you haven’t met yet.

  “Arranging an Arnmay marriage for you was an idea I had after a chance encounter with Trolubos Arnmay last year when her oldest granddaughter enrolled in our current first-year trainee class. A haup Esso son married into the family two generations back. That ties the Arnmays to the southern lord holders like haup Esso and gives their merchant house its clout in the grain and fabric markets. That's why the Arnmays have a good record of breeding halfhairs and silverhairs, just like your own family. In terms of bloodlines, I can't think of anyone else who would be as good a prospect with an upbringing and preferences that match your own.”

  “Mistress, you don’t have to arrange marriages for—“

  “Oh, yes, I do,” I pushed back because Twessera is good at not asking for things for herself. “Emily’s ‘Gang of Three’ is part of my staff, and I take care of my staff. That includes arranging marriages and setting up your first household if you need help with that. I’m not as worried about you as I am about Thuorfosi. I know someone else in similar circumstances. I was thinking of arranging an occasion where the two might meet, with a few spies planted ahead of time to observe.”

  “Mistress,” Twessera gave me an incredulous look.

  “Kayseo’s already met him, and she approves,” I interjected.

  “Who?” Twessera demanded in an artfully neutral voice.

  “Mudsodotha haup Gunndit,” I smiled, confident that only Twessera could see the evil cant of my eyebrows.

  “Your grandson? The one who lost an arm in the first Yuxviayeth campaign? The one that Kayseo is interviewing for the steward position in Pinisla?”

  “The same,” I replied, thinking how nice it would be if Thuorfosi was my granddaughter by marriage.

  The look Twessera gave me could only be described as dubious.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “It really will be up to Thuorfosi,” I added, feeling a little defensive. “I’m not going to push any woman who is still grieving to jump into another marriage. I just want to see if they get along. They both have been married before, so they already know what it takes to make a relationship work. If it looked feasible, it would be a case of gently nudging rather than arranging. No one is more intractable than Thuorfosi when she decides to be stubborn, so no, no pushing a match, but gentle nudging might work."

  “You already have a handfasting scheduled for the day after coldtide,” Twessera commented.

  “Yes, my grandson Kattessat will wed Heir Sertfos haup Black. I am looking forward to it. It’s an excellent pairing, putting a Priest of Mueb together with a Priestess of Erhonsay,” I smiled at the thought of it, “and they have known each other since they were small children.”

  "Ah, yes," Twessera rolled her eyes, "manly husbandry will marry maternal instincts of defense. It's perfect for every cliché about happily wedded couples living on a holding."

  “Should I order you some abrasive cloth so you can polish up that sarcasm a bit more?” I teased.

  "Are you always this flamboyant when you escape your study in Aybhas?"

  “I was serious about wanting to meet Onsus,” I ignored her question. “If I can talk Oyyuth into it, how about morning repast with you, me, and Onsus at Six Brewers Row?”

  “How big an ‘if’ is that?” she asked.

  "Not a big one," I indulged in a grin, knowing the hood protected me from people seeing it. "Oyyuth shouldn't be adverse, Troy will enjoy the company, and Onsus shouldn't feel like he's under my sole inspection with the Kas'syo haup Gunddits at the table. Besides, you, Onsus, and Oyyuth are all from prominent merchant houses, so you share a common background. I think it would be a comfortable venue in which to meet the young man.”

  “If the Presiding Craftmaster is amenable to our crashing her place for early repast, I will not object. I don’t think Onsus would either.”

  “I will consult with Oyyuth and let you know.”

  Emily, Harvest Season, 6th rot., from the night of the 5th day to the morning of the 6th day, – East Coast time

  Hints of the coming day were beginning to smudge the horizon off the starboard bow with a slightly lighter shade of blue-black. Moo made a large black hump in the middle of the steering deck where she was curled up under the lashed-down tiller so she could sleep. If the pilot on duty determined the boats were getting too far off course, they woke up Moo long enough for her to get us going in the right direction again.

  I sat up and looked around for something I might use as an additional blanket because I felt cold. The air was getting chillier in the mornings, a sign that Cold Season and its snow would soon be here. I wasn't sure how far north we had sailed. Given the riot of color on land as the leaves turned, we were no longer in the comfortable, warm weather of the Gungywamp coast.

  “Em?” Moo’s sleepy voice murmured next to my ear.

  “Go back to sleep, Moo,” I patted her big head without thinking. Then, I was appalled that I had done so, but it was hard not to think of Moo'upegan as a big, bouncy, happy puppy. She really needed a tail to wag and knock things over with.

  “Wazza puppy?” Moo muttered.

  “Sleep, Moo,” I said, firmly by softly.

  “You,” Moo’s big hand tapped me on the top of my head, “c'mon, here." She picked me up, wrapped me in her arms, and pulled me in close, spooning me under her chin and next to her chest. I felt suddenly warm from the charm that Moo just cast on me. I would have been comfortable except for the embarrassment and the crick in my neck because I had nothing to use as a pillow. Moo then slipped her hand under my head to support it. "There, fixed it," she said, falling back asleep with a soft snore. I had to sigh as I realized I had acquired another Cosm in my life who passively read my thoughts.

  “Sleep," Moo whispered to me.

  “Wake up, little bed bear,” Moo patted me on the back. “You’ve slept half the morning away, but we need you now.”

  “Wha . . . ?” I lifted my head to find I was wrapped up in a blanket tucked against the stern post with Moo kneeling next to me and Captain Willis looking over her shoulder.

  “Beloved,” Willis crouched next to me, “we can see smoke coming from the entrance of Souk Fjord. Can you help us set up the mortar and the cannon?”

  “Oy. Yeah, sure,” I sat up and looked over the port bow gunwale at the plume of smoke rising along the coast in the distance. “How much longer before we reach Souk?”

  “Before the sun goes down,” Willis replied. “I hope we still have a town to go home to.”

  "I told you, Captain," Moo interjected, "the two ships attacking Souk have taken damage. They won't be able to escape. The real worry is the surviving mage with the attacking Cosm."

  “Surviving?” I picked up on Moo’s choice of words.

  "The Soukians have eliminated one mage already," Moo said. "The other mage is shielding the two pirate ships with a barrier. The Soukians have prevented the pirates from advancing into the harbor."

  “How?”

  “Trebuchets and ballistae,” Willis grinned. “We have them positioned in the trees at the tops of the hills overlooking the fjord. Any unwelcome ship coming up the fjord into the harbor will be pelted with nonstop rocks and flaming spears. We’ve been fighting off Cosm raiders for centuries this way. It’s why the five Coyn towns on the northeast coast are still viable and independent.”

  “Why do they raid,” I asked, “other than the usual reason of greed? The volume of Coyn commerce can’t be all that tempting to a Cosm pirate.”

  “That’s where you’re mistaken, Beloved,” Willis said. “You see, we have tin. That’s what the raiders are after.”

  After I scarfed down some smoked fish and pickled cabbage, I assembled the crew members Willis lent me to set up the cannon and mortar. We had twenty chain shot pairs, sixty cannon balls, forty grapeshot canisters, eighteen fireworks shells, and fifty-eight explosive mortar shells. The crew had made three versions of swabbers and two ramrods for the cannon. I taught two crews of four how to shoot the cannon, allowing eight cannonballs per crew for practice. The homemade ramrods and swabbers worked well. I was impressed with the jury-rigged equipment the Soukian sailors had made while I was sleeping.

  I didn't hold any practice with the mortar. I anticipated that I would be doing all the shooting with the mortar shells. The shells were a finite resource, and I wanted to hoard them as much as possible.

  Kamagishi, palace, Is’syal, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 5th day, after dinner – Foskos Time

  “Kami?” Lyappis inquired in a subdued voice.

  “Mom? What can I do for you, Mother?” I slid the chair closer to the bed.

  “I’m tired, dear heart,” Lyappis said. “I’d like to send you home. On your way out, would you please send in the healer on duty to put me to sleep, child?”

  “So soon, Mother?” I asked. I came to visit after dinner, and I felt that the evening was still young. It wasn't even halfway to the first night bell yet.

  “Kami, I am fading,” Lyappis said. “Please let me rest. I’m not up for much else right now.”

  “I will be back tomorrow,” I squeezed Mother’s hand. “Sleep well, Mom. I’ll send in the duty healer.”

  I exited Mother’s room and walked to the greeting counter.

  “You!” I was shocked to see Lisaykos flipping through the patient log at the greeting counter with a nervous-looking twenty-something healer looking on. “What are you doing here? I thought you left this afternoon.”

  “I had a late midday repast with Priestess Twessera, and I did a little shopping," Lisaykos closed the logbook and stood up. "Then I had a pleasant dinner with my grandchildren and their mother. Now, I was waiting for you so we could ambush the Queen and King and find out just what sort of trouble poor Princess Opo'aba has landed in. Senlyosart headed back to Black Falls at half past the fifth bell."

  "Ha! Opa probably committed a typical act of trainee mischief, and I’ll bet a firkin of Kas’syo dark ale that the Queen probably overreacted," I stated. "Aylem is too hard on her children if you ask me."

  “No bets,” Lisaykos stepped out from the counter. “Of course, Aylem overreacted. The only item under discussion is what sort of trouble did Opa get herself into.”

  “Oh, before I forget,” I gathered my cloak and hooded mantle from the wall rack, "Mother asked the duty healer to put her to sleep."

  “That’s your task, Healer Escaleros,” Lisaykos looked back at the youngster at the greeting counter. “It’s probably time to call in Healer Asteroep to sit with the Revered One for the night.”

  “Yes, Mistress, I’m on it,” the young gal got up and vanished down the hall and into my mother’s room.

  I waited for the door to close on my mother’s room and then turned back to Lisaykos, “You make them nervous, you know.”

  She flashed a brief smile, “I know. It’s good practice for them. Healers must be able to stay calm even with clay bombs flying, cities burning, and High Priestesses dropping by unannounced.” She pulled her mantle off the cloak rack.

  “Why are you still here?” I had to ask. Spontaneous visits from Lisaykos were not her usual behavior, and staying beyond the immediate demands of a visit was even less in character for the second-oldest member of the Convocation. "Convocation met yesterday. You got the rite of intercession you wanted. Given yesterday’s events, I’m surprised you’re here, or maybe I should say, still here.”

  "Opportunity, Sister Kamagishi," Lisaykos pulled her hooded mantle over her head. "I found Priestess Twessera, who you may recall was one of the Blessed Emily's healers, on duty with your mother. She's currently in Is'syal on a visit to the Arnmay family. I decided to follow up on how her visit is progressing.”

  “That’s right,” I remembered the chitchat at my Shrine about Sister Lisaykos and her marriage arrangements for her staff. “I believe you have your eyes on the youngest Arnmay boy.”

  Lisaykos opened the door of the palace's chapel shrine for me, "Aylem is in the nursery. Shall we inquire what sort of trouble poor Princess Opo'aba is in?"

  “Yes, let’s shall. So, since you didn’t fly home this afternoon, Lisaykos, what have you been up to?” I prodded. “This isn’t like you.

  “Your mother is that last of my mentors still alive, Kamagishi,” Lisaykos strode down the hallway toward the stairs to the royal apartments. “Chasing Priestess Twessera’s arrangements gives me something to do while reassuring myself that your mother will recover.”

  “Even staying overnight?” I asked, “Especially after the events of yesterday? I thought you'd be at your Shrine, drafting the new rules for using the lost charm of unraveling time."

  “I’m meeting young Onsus Arnmay for the first time tomorrow morning,” Lisaykos informed me. “I’ll be heading home after that. My staff in Aybhas can run the Shrine without me for an evening.”

  “You’re already to the contract stage for Priestess Twessera and Scholar Attendant Onsus?”

  “No, no, no,” Lisaykos shook her head. “I’m having an informal, casual morning repast with Twessera and Onsus at my daughter-by-marriage’s house. Crafting a marriage contract is still a ways off. And speaking of marriage contracts, I was wondering, since you have your ears permanently glued to the ground, have you heard of any new business dealings with House Arnmay?”

  “What? You don’t know?” I was surprised. Lisaykos’s intelligence network was usually an excellent operation.

  “Know what?” Lisaykos gave me a sharp look.

  “House Syo’erk cornered the hemp and flax crops in the Surdos Valley this year, and House Arnmay is the operator of the new rope factory in Yuxvos,” I told Sister Lisaykos. “Arnmay wants those crop contracts.”

  She stopped on the stairs and pinched her nose, “Oh! That explains it!”

  “What?”

  “Trolubos Arnmay has been acting like a cheerful, eager, energetic hostess to my Twessera,” Lisaykos raised an eyebrow. “That news has been bothering me since this afternoon, but if Twessera’s marriage will seal a deal between the Arnmays and the Syo’erks, then Trobulos’s out-of-character behavior is no longer a mystery.”

  “Cheerful, eager, and energetic?" I stopped on the stairs, too. "Energetic isn't odd, but eager and cheerful are not words one associates with Trolubos Arnmay.”

  Lisaykos chuckled, “I know. When Twessera told me about Trolubos, I guessed a business deal might be involved.”

  “Third floor,” I held the door open for Lisaykos. “Twessera’s sister, Nixos Syo’erk, is a master at securing fiber contracts, and the Arnmays have a lot invested in the new rope factory. I’ll bet a firkin that—”

  "No, Kamagishi," Lisaykos started down the third-floor hallway toward the nursery, "no bets. If the Queen is feeding the twins, she won’t be able to escape us.”

  “I know. I hope Aylem isn’t in a bad mood over Opa,” a know of worry settled into my stomach.

  “If Aylem is cuddling her babies, she won’t be in a bad mood,” Lisaykos opened the door into the nursery, startling the nursery staff attending to Aylem. The Queen was seated in a comfortable armchair with one of the twins.

  “Kami, Lisaykos,” Aylem’s face lit up with a smile, “I can understand why Kami is here, but I thought you would have gone home this afternoon, Lisaykos.”

  “I encountered the opportunity to work on Priestess Twessera’s marriage arrangements. I haven't had any staff this young before, and I'm enjoying finding those three suitable partners,” Lisaykos leaned over and cast a quick healer’s probe on the twin Aylem was currently nursing. “I’ll be happy when these two gain some more weight, dear heart,” Lisaykos dropped her hand on Aylem’s head and cast a healer’s probe before the Queen could protest. “You’re a bit behind on your hydration, Aylem.”

  Aylem rolled her eyes, “Yes, Mother. Whatever you say, Mother.”

  “Speaking of mothers, what sort of trouble did your daughter land in, Aylem?” Lisaykos picked up a chair and put it down next to Aylem before sitting on it.

  “Yes, what did Opa do?” I asked. “Senlyosart isn’t one to travel to Is’syal for small matters.”

  Aylem’s expression defaulted to the Ice Queen, “I believe my daughter’s behavior is my own business.”

  I couldn’t get a read off Aylem so I couldn’t gauge the level of her temper. That worried me. While the Queen had indeed improved, her capacity for anger was still bigger than she was.

  Lisaykos nailed Aylem with a formidable glare down the length of her substantial nose, “Great One, you need to give your daughter room to grow. I don’t know what Opa might have done, but—”

  “Food fight,” Aylem glowered. “Opa started a food fight that involved every trainee in the Singing Shrine, while she was serving escort duty to a potential trainee visitor.”

  Lisaykos’s face was carefully neutral, “Opa started a food fight?”

  “Morning buns,” Aylem growled. “She started throwing morning buns, and before the fight was shut down by the trainee supervisor, she was standing on the dining table so she would have a better vantage from which to throw them.”

  “A food fight?” Lisaykos frowned. “You had that poor woman, who is still struggling to walk, fly here so you could discuss Opa in a food fight? I am disappointed, Aylem, that you could do such a thing to someone who has been your own patient.”

  This wasn’t good. I could feel a knot of anger growing in Lisaykos.

  “My daughter is my business, not yours,” Aylem said in a monotone.

  “You and your daughter are not private individuals, Great One,” Lisaykos said in a voice that sent a chill up my neck. “Don’t force me to wake Lyappis over this.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Aylem hissed.

  “Tell that to poor Senlyosart,” Lisaykos did not back down.

  “Lisaykos, just lay off,” Aylem’s color was up, which was never a good sign. “Senlyosart and Imstay have prevailed over my wishes for Opa, and I no longer wish to contemplate this matter today.”

  “Aylem, I—” Lisaykos started.

  "No," Aylem cut her off, "just stop and leave me be. I've had enough trouble for the last two days. Between Mugash, my misbehaving daughter, and poor Lyappis, I'm at the end of my wits. Come back and nag me tomorrow, Lisaykos, but for tonight, leave me in peace."

  “Your will, Great One,” Lisaykos got up and walked out without looking back.

  “Well, dammit,” Aylem swore.

  “She worries about you and Opa,” I leaned against the wall and studied the Queen.

  Aylem grimaced, “I know. It’s just not a good time right now. I’ll apologize tomorrow.”

  “Aylem?”

  “Yes, Kami?”

  "Have you ever been in a food fight?"

  “No.”

  “Pillow fight?”

  “Never.”

  "Surd save us. You really didn't have any fun growing up, did you?" I had to shake my head at the mess my predecessors in the Convocation had made of Aylem’s childhood. “Aylem, did you ever have any friends as a child?”

  “I don’t remember any from when I was very young. And I wasn’t allowed near anyone my own age or younger until I was sixteen, which is when Mugash blessed me as a healer.”

  “I thought you were an adept before then," I was confused. I knew Aylem was doubly ordained. I thought Landa had accepted her as an adept before she became a healer.

  “I was," Aylem had a strange, pensive look as she replied. "I became an adept when I was ten. There wasn't anything I couldn't do by that age. I could overpower my three adept guardians by the time I was eight. Only the memories of my life before helped me from becoming a true menace, and given my behavior since then, I failed, did I?"

  “Oh, my, aren’t we cheerful this evening?”

  “It's been a difficult day," Aylem sighed. "What's wrong with Lisaykos? Idiot that I am, I argued with her before I could ask her what's bothering her." I allowed Aylem to change the subject because I could tell she really was worried about her mentor.

  “You can’t tell?” I had to raise an eyebrow. I thought Aylem knew Lisaykos better than this. “She’s worried about my mother.”

  “Enough to fly up here and stay the night?"

  "And maybe tomorrow," I had to shake my head. "Aylem, my mother is the last person left alive who was important to Lisaykos when she was a girl. When Mother finds Gertzpul's gardens, Lisaykos will finally admit that her youth is now forever lost to her and that she has become old. This is a hard time for her, Aylem, and she hides her hurts, even to herself.

  “Oh.”

  “And she doesn’t want you to do to Opa what her mother did to her.”

  “I think I know the answer to this question, but humor me, Kami, and tell me what the Holy Aynaxsim did to her daughter Lisaykos." Aylem got up to put her infant back in her bed. She cooed at her daughters in their side-by-side cribs and made silly mommy noises.

  “Surely, Lisaykos has told you why she has no personal attendants," I remarked.

  Aylem sighed and sat back down, “Yes, I know the story of the liberation of the perfect princess. I wish I could have escaped too, but I know my isolation as a child was a matter of public safety."

  “Think about how you’re going to catch Lisaykos tomorrow,” I made my way to the door. “I’ll stop by after I visit my mother in the morning. Try not to be too hard on yourself for the rest of the evening.”