It was funny how it was possible to live in a city for years and rarely, if ever, see some parts of it. The docks of Quorge were like that. Years of growing up in the city, and Felitïa could count the number of times she’d been to the docks on one hand. There just hadn’t been any call to go down there. Trips to purchase fish had taken her near the docks and, sitting in her favourite spot on the beach outside the city, she had certainly seen the docks, but actually going there was a rare event.

There was an occasion with Zandrue and Drummor. It had been one of those random things Zandrue was prone to. She had wanted to see the ships, so they’d gone. Zandrue and Drummor didn’t look much at the ships, as they were too busy staring at each other, unable to keep their hands off each other. Felitïa dawdled along behind them, not paying much attention to the ships either. She was too worried Elderaan might slip and fall in her absence, or overcharge customers in his ageing distraction.

There had to have been one or two other occasions when she’d gone to the docks as well, but they weren’t coming to mind now.

Standing in the docks now was like entering a new city for the first time. Everything seemed new and unfamiliar.

It didn’t feel like home.

Was that a good or bad thing? It was hard to tell.

A snowflake floated past her face, and a few more. Now that was more like the Quorge she remembered. She’d spent so much of this year in the south, most of it during the hottest months, there was a certain irony in returning to Quorge just as winter was stirring up. Even Dorg was far enough south that it had still been reasonably warm there, so they would not be getting much chance to ease themselves into winter.

“It’s snowing!” Nin-Akna held out her hand and tried to catch one of the flakes. It floated away on the air currents created by her hand’s movement. Another landed on her wrist and melted away. “I’ve always loved snow.”

“But Ninifin doesn’t get snow,” Corvinian said.

“Not very often, but it happens.” A pair of soldiers were leading Xoco and Mulac off the gangplank, and Nin-Akna took the reins from them, continuing to talk. “We had snow two or three years ago. I love how it covers everything like a big blanket and turns it all white for a couple hours.” She led the horses back over to them.

Felitïa took Xoco’s reins from her. “A couple hours?”

“Yes, it was at least two hours that time. I know it usually melts right away like now, but those times it sticks around a little longer are so beautiful.” Nin-Akna rubbed her bare arms in the chill.

“You know it’s colder in the north, right?” Corvinian said, checking the straps on the saddle bags.

“Yes, of course. I can feel it right now. That means you get more of those occasions where the snow sticks around for a few hours. I’m looking forward to those.”

Corvinian looked at Felitïa. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”

Felitïa smirked.

“Tell me what?”

Felitïa tightened Xoco’s reins a little. “Do you know anything about how much snow we get in the north?”

Nin-Akna rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard some stories about snow piled up like mountains, and I know in the past, I’ve believed some incorrect things about Arnor, but even I’m not so naïve to believe those stories, so you don’t have to worry. I’m not expecting mountains of snow. Just...blankets.”

Felitïa smirked. “Well…”

“You’re not going to tell me those stories are true, are you?”

“Literal mountains would be an exaggeration, but not by much.”

Nin-Akna frowned and rubbed her arms and hands some more. “Oh.”

“You sure you don’t want a cloak or shawl?” Felitïa asked.

Nin-Akna shook her head while still rubbing her arms. “It’ll restrict movement if we get in a fight. I don’t want to take any chances. Besides, it’ll warm up in…” She paused and looked at Felitïa, then Corvinian. “It will warm up, won’t it?”

Felitïa shrugged. “Maybe a little. But don’t worry, we’ll reach Agernon’s soon enough. Come on. We better get going.”

The docks had so much more open space than the rest of Quorge. The streets of the city were narrow and, combined with the close-packed buildings, it made each street seem isolated from all the others. It wasn’t possible to see much of the city from any given location. Rejoining that sense of isolation as they left the docks brought with it the feeling of home Felitïa hadn’t felt at the docks. She remained unsure if that was a good or bad thing.

“A word of warning,” she said. “People knew me here as Asa. They didn’t know my lineage. I don’t know if they know now. If they do, I don’t know how they’ll react.”

“Don’t worry, I’m ready for anything,” Nin-Akna said.

“These people aren’t Darkers. They’re just ordinary people who might be a little angry.”

“Yeah, thanks, I realise that. I’m not stupid.”

Nin-Akna’s annoyance jabbed at Felitïa, and Felitïa had to make an effort not to wince. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” She desperately needed to get a good night’s sleep so she stopped putting her foot in her mouth like this. Even with the Staff stored in the hold, her sleep on the trip upriver had only been marginally better.

Felitïa.

Nin-Akna sighed. “It’s fine. We’re both overtired.” But annoyance didn’t stop flowing from her.

Felitïa.

Or maybe it was her own annoyance at the Staff building up.

Nin-Akna strode ahead with Mulac. Felitïa had to call out to her to tell her to turn left at the next intersection.

No, it was a combination of both. They were both annoyed.

Felitïa.

* * * * *

Once they had secured a room at an inn and stabled the horses, Felitïa led them on the most direct route to Agernon. She carried the Staff in her hand now, but it had fallen silent for the moment. Nevertheless, she wanted it out of her hands as soon as possible. She was having a hard enough time processing her feelings about being back in Quorge; she didn’t need to deal with the Staff’s incessant calls as well.

There was a long line-up at the well where she used to collect water—not an unusual thing. Quorge only had a small number of wells for a large population, and so long queues were common. Numerous eyes turned to look at Felitïa and the others as they passed. Felitïa tried not to look at them as they passed, but that didn’t stop the feelings of recognition coming through. She could have easily pushed those feelings away, blocked them from her mind entirely. However, as scared as she was of knowing what people thought, she was just as scared of not knowing.

The feelings were a mix: surprise, disdain, uncaring. They weren’t that different from what she was used to growing up here. She didn’t get the impression these people knew she was anything other than the Folith girl apprenticed to the Eloorin wizard.

Felitïa.

She stopped as they passed the well itself—suddenly enough that Nin-Akna and Corvinian walked several more paces before realising and stopping as well.

Felitïa.

That was strange. The Staff was calling in unison with the voices in her head.

Felitïa.

“Is everything all right?” Nin-Akna said.

Felitïa nodded. “This is the place.”

Nin-Akna stared at her. “The place?”

“The place my telepathy first manifested.”

Felitïa, you must listen to me.

“That’s...significant, I guess,” Nin-Akna said. “How did it happen?”

Felitïa’s thoughts drifted back thirteen years. Standing in line. Waiting. “It just...happened. I didn’t do anything. I just heard voices. People around me talking. Except they weren’t talking. It was their thoughts. They were so loud that day. I could hear everything in crystal clarity.”

Worry spread from Nin-Akna. “But I thought…”

Felitïa glanced at her and smiled. “It’s never been that way since. I fainted and woke later in my bed. While I slept, my powers decreased to what they are today. It was terrifying at the time.”

“Sounds it,” Nin-Akna said. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled it. How old were you?”

“Thirteen. I’d just hit puberty. That’s when it manifested.”

Felitïa, you must listen to me.

“It’s calling me again.”

Nin-Akna looked to the Staff and held out her hand. “Want me to hold it for you?”

Felitïa shook her head. “It’s not like other times. It’s in unison with the voices in my head. They don’t normally do that.”

Nin-Akna retracted her hand and rubbed her arms.

She is powerful indeed if she can see us in this place.

“Something else happened that day,” Felitïa said.

Nin-Akna continued rubbing her arms. “What?”

“I don’t quite remember. But something else happened. I’m sure of it.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Corvinian said. He was making designs with his foot in the fresh snow.

“Do you mind if we stop here a few minutes? I want to try something.” Maybe being in this spot would help jog her memories. It was a long-shot, but worth trying.

Nin-Akna rubbed her arms and shivered. “Go ahead. Do...do what you need.”

Felitïa groaned inwardly. She was getting too wrapped up in her own desires. “No, I’m sorry. It’s too cold for you right now. We need to get you inside. I can come back later. What I wanted to do will work better if I’ve slept a bit first anyway.”

Nin-Akna gave her a thin smile and nodded. She shivered again.

Felitïa took one last look at the well and the line of people.

Felitïa, you must listen to me.

* * * * *

The snow was falling more heavily by the time they reached Agernon’s home—large flakes that were taking longer to melt when they hit the ground, as the temperature was getting colder. Nin-Akna’s tattooed copper skin was gaining bluish undertones. It reminded Felitïa of her time spent living on the streets before Elderaan had taken her in. She’d been so cold, dealing with frostbite because she didn’t have adequate winter clothing. There was no reason it should get that bad for Nin-Akna though; Felitïa just needed to convince her to put on some warmer clothes, and she suspected it wouldn’t be long before Nin-Akna would agree.

“I’ll take one of those shawls next time,” Nin-Akna said as they reached Agernon’s door.

“You can always toss it off if you need extra mobility,” Felitïa said. Unfortunately, they had left all the extra supplies at the inn, so Nin-Akna would have to put up with the cold for now. Agernon’s home would be warm though. He always kept a good fire going.

Felitïa took a deep breath, reached out, and knocked on the door.

“You’ll like Agernon, Akna,” Corvinian said.

“So you’ve told me,” Nin-Akna said.

Felitïa held back a sigh and knocked again. Nin-Akna had given Corvinian permission to address her without her honorific, but not Felitïa, and it bothered Felitïa more than she wanted to let on. It was Nin-Akna’s decision, but it was a disappointing one.

Felitïa had to knock several more times before Agernon’s familiar crusty voice came from inside.

“All right! I’m coming! Hold on! This better not be another blasted summons from the Council. If it is, you can tell Ezmelda she can—” The door opened a crack, and Agernon looked out. His irritation was replaced by shock, then pleasure and happiness. There was still a touch of irritation, though. “You’re late!”

Same old Agernon.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Felitïa said.

“Ten months and two days to be precise.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“Bah! There’s always a choice.”

“Yes, I had the choice of going with them willingly or going with them unwillingly.”

“Exactly my point. You had a choice.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Though I suppose you made the right one.”

“They told me they’d let you know what had happened.”

“They did. Several days later, after I was sick with worry. Anyway, you better get in here before that girl dies of the cold.” He opened the door wider. “And before you freeze my home.” There was a hint of a smile on his face, and the happiness and excitement from him was becoming infectious.

Agernon stood aside and Corvinian dashed inside, followed by Nin-Akna, then Felitïa.

The warmth inside was pleasant, but it wasn’t the only thing comforting about Agernon’s home. It was the familiarity. So little had changed since she’d first seen it as a girl. The same two chairs sat in the middle of the room by the same table, on which sat the battered deck of cards he and Elderaan had always used for their games. The vase of spills still stood on the mantle over the fireplace.

Agernon shut the door. “Give us a hug then, if you’re going to.”

Felitïa turned to him and smiled. The only thing in the entire place that had changed was the short, scruffy white beard he’d grown. She hugged him with one arm, the other holding the Staff out to the side. She did her best not to clutch his thin, bony form too tightly, but she also wanted to hold on forever and never let go.

She did let go after a few seconds, though, when his impatience started to grow enough to be noticeable against his feelings of affection. “I like the beard.”

He ran his fingers through the hairs on his chin. “Bah. I only grew it because it takes too much effort to shave these days. You try shaving with these wrinkles getting in the way.”

He was starting to show his age. Agernon had been old as long as Felitïa could remember, but he had never seemed to get any older. But it seemed time was finally catching up to him. His jowls sagged more than she remembered.

Agernon hobbled over to one of the chairs, his cane clacking on the hard floor. “What’s with the tigers, girl?”

Nin-Akna was warming herself by the fire. She looked up at the question. “They’re jaguars.”

“Fine, what’s with the jaguars?”

“The jaguar is the sacred animal of Ninussa. It represents leadership and power, particularly physical prowess.”

Agernon lowered himself slowly into the chair. “I suppose it must take quite a bit of physical prowess to endure the needles needed to put that much ink on you. I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Why would I regret it?”

“Heh. You’ll find when you get old, you start to regret a lot of things. But don’t mind me. I’m just a crabby old man. Now then, somebody going to introduce me to you? I know Felitïa, and I’ve met this fine young lad, but this is the first time I’ve laid eyes on you. I’d remember the jaguars.”

Felitïa blushed. “I’m sorry, Agernon. I’m just a bit overwhelmed with being back and all. This is Nin-Akna. Nin-Akna, Agernon.”

Agernon nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Nin-Akna. Has Felitïa brought you to me because you have unexplained powers like the boy, or are you just the replacement for the other lad who was supposed to be my assistant?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” Nin-Akna looked to Felitïa.

“Really, Felitïa?” Agernon snapped. “Haven’t you filled her in on anything?”

Felitïa sighed. “He’s referring to Meleng, and no, she’s not his replacement, just another friend.” She leaned the Staff against the door, and removed her cloak. “Meleng’s gone to Isyaria with Jorvan. He’ll join us in a few months.” She hung her cloak on a hook beside the door and took the Staff again. Lon crawled out of the cloak. Felitïa held out her other hand and let him crawl onto it and then her arm.

“A few months? Not much good that will do me. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need an assistant anyway. What’s that?” He raised the end of his cane and pointed with it.

Felitïa held out her hand a little longer. “Something else I’d like you to take a look at.” Nesh finally emerged from the cloak and onto her arm. Felitïa then walked over to the other chair, sat, and laid the Staff across her lap. “It’s called the Staff of Sestin. It—”

“Yes, I’m sure it is. I meant that. And that.” He pointed his cane at Lon, who was now on her shoulder, and then at Nesh, still clinging to her arm.

Felitïa smiled and held back a laugh. “Oh! That’s Lon and that’s Nesh. They’re rats.”

“Yes, I know what a rat is. What are you doing with them, though? I have a hard enough time keeping rats out of this place without you bring two in.”

“They were gifts from someone very special to me. Don’t worry. They’ll behave.”

Agernon lowered his cane, but leaned in towards her, his eyes narrowed. “Really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m good with rats. You know that. I looked after the ones at Elderaan’s for years.”

“Those ones were in cages.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want them making a mess.”

“They won’t.”

Agernon sat back in his chair. “Fine. What’s this Staff of Sestis then?”

“Sestin,” Nin-Akna corrected.

Agernon scowled. “Staff of Sestin then. It’s magical?”

“Yes, how did you know?” Nin-Akna asked.

Agernon grunted. “Felitïa wouldn’t bother me with it if it weren’t something unusual like that. Let’s have a look at it then.” He waved at Nin-Akna and Corvinian as he hooked his cane over the arm of his chair. “You two, make yourselves useful and go prepare some tea. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen. Some biscuits too. Don’t eat them all before you bring them out.” He leaned towards Felitïa, holding out his hands.

Felitïa lifted the Staff. “Careful, it’s heavy.”

“Pheh, I’ll be fine,” he said, but his arm muscles strained as he took hold of it and she let some of the weight pass to him. He kept a grin on his face, though, as he slid it over to his lap. “Go on!” he snapped at Corvinian and Nin-Akna. “I’m thirsty.”

“You heard him, Corvin,” Nin-Akna said. “Go make us some tea.”

Corvinian looked up at her. “He said you, too.”

“Yes, but it only needs one. I’m telling you to do it. I want to see this.”

“But so do—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m telling you to do it.”

“Fine.” Corvinian scowled and stomped off towards the kitchen.

Agernon eyed Felitïa and smirked. “I like her.”

Nin-Akna sat on the floor in front of Agernon. “Are you going to find out what it does?”

“Maybe. First, Felitïa’s going to tell me where she got it, and everything else she’s been up to for the past ten months and two days.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been counting the days that accurately,” Felitïa said.

“Pheh, doesn’t need counting. I know what day you were last here. It just takes some simple maths to do the calculations. Now then, you came to me before, telling me the boy was being chased by Volgs. Now, word is we’re going to war against them. I can’t imagine these are unrelated events. So I’ll tell you what I can about this little staff here once you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Felitïa nodded and launched into the tale. She’d expected this. Plus, she was getting used to telling at least a portion of it now anyway. It took awhile to tell, as she started from the moment she’d last seen Agernon and he interrupted frequently with questions. They’d finished all the biscuits and Corvinian had been sent to make more tea by the time she got through it all.

Agernon sighed and shook his head when she was done. “So, you went off and got involved in politics, did a shit job of it, and threw us into a war. Then you joined a revolution in Ninifin and left it in a worse state than it was when you got there. You’ve been banished from the royal court, you’re harbouring the rightful heir to the Ninifin throne, and Darkers continue to try to kill you. I always told Elderaan I’d regret testing you for magical potential one day.” He slid the Staff back towards her.

Felitïa grabbed for it before it fell on the floor.

Agernon took hold of his cane and rose slowly to his feet.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Felitïa said. “And I don’t blame you if you don’t want to be involved. It could get dangerous. Probably will. I was just hoping…”

He glared at her. “And I thought that lad who was with you last time needed his confidence slapped into shape. Of course I’ll help you. I made my choice regarding you all those years ago. I’ll pay for it when I die, which I don’t intend for a good few more years yet.”

“Oh. Just, you pushed the Staff away and…”

“What happened to those telepathic powers of yours?”

“Nothing. They’re a bit quiet at the moment, I suppose. They do that once in a while.”

“I’m just going to take a piss. Old men’s bladders don’t work as well as they used to, you know.”

Corvinian laughed, and Agernon hobbled out of the room.

“I think he did that on purpose,” Nin-Akna said.

Felitïa sighed. “He definitely did it on purpose. If I weren’t so tired, I wouldn’t have fallen for it.”

“I told you he was awesome,” Corvinian said as he went over to the fire to retrieve the tea water, which was starting to boil.

Nin-Akna grinned. “Yes, you did, and I suppose he is.”

Agernon returned a few minutes later. Once he had had a sip of tea and a few puffs of his pipe, he asked Felitïa to place the Staff in his lap again. “Right, you say this thing talks to you?”

“If you call saying my name over and over again talking, then yes. I don’t think it’s working properly, and I was wondering if there’s a way to fix it.”

“Is it calling your name now?”

Felitïa shook her head. “It’s been quiet since we arrived.”

“All right, let’s confirm it’s magical first.” He began to run his fingers along the length of the Staff, tracing inscriptions along it.

“But we know it’s magical,” Nin-Akna said. “How could it not be magical?”

Agernon just grunted.

“Agernon likes to follow specific patterns,” Felitïa said.

“I haven’t got where I have in this world without being methodical, girl.” He nodded towards Corvinian. “Besides, I have already encountered one thing that is magical without being magical. I need to know if there’s a pattern in Felitïa’s life. So be patient. And quiet! I need to concentrate.”

His fingers continued to trace inscriptions from the bottom of the shaft all the way to the top. As he reached the serpent, there was a flash as an arc of energy crackled over Agernon’s fingers. He snatched his hands back and shook them out.

Felitïa!

Nin-Akna jumped to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“Just fine.” Agernon placed his hands back on the Staff. “That’s exactly what was supposed to happen, though I’ll admit it was more intense than I expected. There’s obviously a lot of power stored in this thing.” He traced his fingers along the serpent and over the eye sockets. There was another flash. He winced, but kept going.

Felitïa!

“It’s awake,” Felitïa said.

FELITÏA!

“And I don’t think it likes what you’re doing.”

“Doesn’t it? Tough shit for it.” More sparks of energy crackled over Agernon’s fingers, but he kept going. “You’re right about it being broken. The magical circuits aren’t complete, so they’re not working the way they’re supposed to. It’s the eyes. There should be something in the eye sockets.” He snatched his hands away.

“Supposedly, there were gems there once,” Felitïa said. “Can they be replaced?”

Agernon shrugged. “It would probably be possible to reconstruct the circuits, but without knowing exactly what they originally did, it would be difficult. It would take a lot of studying and a lot of time. First, I’ll have to find a way to insulate against its counter-attacks. They’re a lot stronger than anything I’ve encountered before.”

FELITÏA! FELITÏA!

Felitïa brought up the Room in her head and spun the walls around the Staff’s presence.

“You all right?” Agernon asked.

“It’s getting pretty intense with me, too.”

“I’m going to try just a couple more things for the moment. That all right?”

She nodded. “I’ve blocked it for now. It always breaks through in the end, but you should have a bit of time. Even if you don’t, I’ve put up with a lot from it. I can put up with a bit more.”

He grunted and resumed tracing his fingers over the feathered serpent and within the eye sockets. Sparks crackled again. “Mostly mentalism magic. Not surprising given what you’ve told me about it.”

“Just mostly?” Felitïa asked.

He nodded. “A bit of enchantment. That’s to be expected. You can’t make something magical without at least a little enchantment. But there’s more. That’s strange. I don’t recognise that one.” He snatched his hands back again and sucked on one of his singed fingers. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Could it be elementalism?”

He shook his head. “Humans may have lost the secrets of elementalism, but I know how to recognise it when I encounter it.” He placed his hands back on the Staff. There was another zap. “That was elementalism.” Another zap. “That’s conjuration.” Zap. “Another one I don’t recognise.” He removed his hands again. “You say you found this in the basement of a temple?”

“Basement isn’t exactly the word I’d use, but...yes?”

“This Staff must be impossibly old.”

“I don’t understand,” Nin-Akna said. “What’s happening?”

“There are ten disciplines of magic, girl.” Agernon placed one hand back on the Staff. “But most of those have been lost for thousands of years. Humans only retain knowledge of three. The Isyar retain a fourth. I’ve identified all four of those in this staff, plus two more I don’t recognise.”

“I think the Volgs might retain knowledge of necromancy,” Felitïa said. “Could that be one?”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t account for the sixth.” He traced his fingers along the Staff again.

Felitïa!

“There’s a seventh.”

Felitïa!

More arcs crackled at his fingertips. “Eight.” Agernon scrunched his face tight, and small strands of smoke rose from his fingers. “Nine.

FELITÏA!

The walls of the Room shattered.

FELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏAFELITÏA!

Felitïa doubled over. Nin-Akna and Corvinian rushed to her. Her head felt ready to explode.

“Ten!”

Agernon pushed the Staff away and it clattered onto the floor. He clutched at his hands.

The Staff went quiet again.

Nin-Akna and Corvinian helped Felitïa off the floor and back into her chair.

Agernon jabbed a finger in her direction. “That Staff stores powers from all ten disciplines. It’s impossible!”

Nin-Akna bent over and picked up the Staff. “Couldn’t it have just been made a long time ago?”

“Oh, it almost certainly was, but you’re not understanding my point, girl. Imbuing an item with magical power isn’t easy. You always need some enchantment, like I said, so power from two disciplines isn’t so unusual. Three is not unheard of, but when it happens, they’re usually only minor, simple powers. I’ve never even read about anything containing more than that. All ten?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how old it is. Even at the height of their civilisation, a hundred Isyar wouldn’t have had the power to put something like that together.”

“But it’s here,” Nin-Akna said. “It exists.”

“No shit, and that terrifies me.” He reached for his pipe, took a few puffs, and slid back in his chair. “There’s no way in hell I have the skill to rework those circuits. The only way to repair it is to find the original gems from the eyes.” He waved a finger at Felitïa again. “But that would be ridiculously dangerous. If that thing gets repaired and your enemies get a hold of it, there’s no telling what kind of powers it might have. If you have any sense, Felitïa, you’ll take it out into the middle of the wilderness somewhere, dig the deepest hole you can, and bury it forever.”

Felitïa closed her eyes, and sighed. She began rebuilding the Room’s walls. “I can’t. I have to know what its message for me is. Besides, do you really think a deep hole will be enough to hide it? If it’s as powerful as you say, my enemies will find it in the end. It’s safest if it stays with me.”

“So what are you going to do with it?”

“I thought I’d store it at the Hall of Knowledge. That way, I can be separate from it at night and actually get some sleep. Once I’m rested...I don’t know.”

They were all silent for a moment. Agernon took several more puffs from his pipe, then said, “Don’t trust Ezmelda with it. She sold you out too easily last time. Leave it here with me. I’ll need it close at hand anyway if I’m going to study it.”

Felitïa smiled. “You’ll study it then?”

Agernon chuckled. “That thing is the most remarkable, most powerful, and probably most valuable item in the entire world. If you’re not going to get rid of it like a sane person should, then you’re damned right I’m going to study it. I can’t let something like that pass out of my sight. Could do with your friend Meleng’s help though. You say he’s coming here after Isyaria?”

Felitïa nodded.

“It’ll be months though,” Nin-Akna said.

“Studying that thing’s going to take months anyway. You, boy.”

Corvinian perked up.

“Want to be my assistant?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. I’ll make do with the boy until your lad gets here. If I’m going to study the boy anyway, I might as well put him to use.”

“Have you heard from Drummor at all?” Felitïa asked.

Agernon sneered, but sadness and regret flowed from him. “Not a word. I don’t expect I will, either. The boy can have his old room. I’d offer to let you stay here, too, but that would keep you in close proximity to the Staff, and I need you rested. In daytimes, I’ll need you here with the Staff while I study it. You’ll want to be rested for those.”

Felitïa nodded. “That’ll be fine. Just give me a couple days before you start.”

He smiled. “That’s fine. Take as much time as you need. I’ll start with the boy.”

“My presence here isn’t likely to go unnoticed. I’ll probably receive another invitation to Lord Belone’s palace.”

“Pheh. That’s to be expected. You do what you have to. Just keep me informed of it. And the Hall of Knowledge?”

“I should still check in there, even if I’m not going to store the Staff there. I need their books. Ezmelda did what she did because she was forced to. I don’t hold it against her.”

Agernon scoffed. “You’re a lot more forgiving than I am.”

Felitïa smirked. “It’s just who I am.”

“Yeah, soft.” He scowled at her, but the scowl slowly turned into a smile, and he laughed.

She smiled back.

“Right, we have a plan—the start of one, at least. You’d better get going if you want to visit the Hall of Knowledge before dark. Before you go, though, clean up after your damn rats. One of them just took a shit on my floor.”

“Oh gods, I’m sorry.” Which one was it? One was clinging to her back. She did a quick check of presences in the room. It was Nesh. “Lon!” The rat peered out from under her chair and scurried onto her foot. “Corvinian was feeding them biscuits earlier. I should have stopped him.”

Corvinian groaned. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Thank you.” Felitïa picked up Lon, carried him over to her cloak, and placed him in the hood. She prodded Nesh to get him to climb her back where she could grab him as he came out from under her clothes. She placed him in the hood with Lon, then donned the cloak. “Coming, Nin-Akna?”

Nin-Akna nodded and joined her.

“Thank you, Agernon,” Felitïa said. “I really appreciate everything.”

“Think nothing of it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Felitïa nodded. “Tomorrow. Look after him, Corvinian.”

Corvinian looked up from brushing Lon’s mess into a pan. “You bet!”

Nin-Akna opened the door and shivered as cold air swept into the room.

“We’ll go by the inn first and pick you up a shawl,” Felitïa said. “It’s not that far out of the way.”

Nin-Akna stared at the floor. “Thanks.”

“Bright and early!” Agernon called after them as they headed into the blowing snow.

* * * * *

Although it was late in the afternoon, there was still a long line at the well. The snow had stopped, but a cold wind continued to blow. Felitïa smiled as Nin-Akna ran a finger through the layer of snow on one of the stone benches in the plaza.

“It’s not melting now. Will it? Or is this the start of those mountains?”

Felitïa brushed away enough snow to sit on the bench. “It’s still early winter and the ground hasn’t frozen yet, so there’s a good chance it’ll be gone by tomorrow. Maybe even in a few hours. But as they days get colder, it’ll eventually stick around the whole winter.”

“It gets colder?”

Felitïa smirked and put her hands in her lap.

Nin-Akna shivered despite the shawl they’d retrieved from the inn. It was one of Felitïa’s and it did look a little odd on the young woman—mainly due to the clash with Nin-Akna’s jerkin. The jerkin’s tough red leather was at odds with the shawl’s softer, brighter fabric. Still, it covered Nin-Akna’s shoulders and arms. Her legs were still bare beneath her skirt, but she looked more comfortable than she had earlier. Some discomfort still emanated from her, but there was relief as well.

Felitïa closed her eyes and formed the Room.

“You don’t need the Staff for this?” Nin-Akna asked.

“No, this has nothing to do with the Staff. I’ll be better off without it. This should only take a few minutes. Then we’ll continue on to the Hall of Knowledge.”

In the Room, Felitïa stepped in one of those impossible directions—the ones that were kind of sideways, but not really—into the limbo of her mind beyond the Room. Even here, the mysterious grey walls loomed in the shadowy distance. But she wasn’t here for those right now. Here, she just let her mind wander back to that day by the well thirteen years ago.

Images began to form. The plaza. The well. The queue. But the people were hazy and indistinct, little more than vaguely human outlines of shadow and mist, no more recognisable than the shrouded figures in the other line-up of people in her head. The plaza and well were more distinct, perhaps because she had seen those just moments ago. That probably meant those images were closer to what the plaza and well looked like now than they did thirteen years ago—not that either had changed much.

Memory was a fickle thing.

Some of the people in the line began to take on more distinct characteristics. Tall, short, hints of the clothes they were wearing.

Could she really remember what people were wearing that day?

No, of course not. These were the people she had just now seen in the line.

She pushed the images aside, focused on the past. Focused on being thirteen years old again.

An old woman pushed in front of her. Felitïa was about to say something, but the scowl on the woman’s face made her decide otherwise. That face was little more than a blurry smudge, but the scowl stood out. She remembered the scowl.

She latched onto that, tried to use it to draw out other memories.

The woman was speaking, saying terrible things about wizards—did she insult Felitïa directly?—but her mouth never moved. The words were just thoughts in her head, and Felitïa could hear them clearly—same with the thoughts of everyone else around her.

Where am I?

But there were thoughts that didn’t fit, didn’t make sense. That was the key. It had to be.

Does it matter?

It matters.

She is here with us.

The most beautiful woman.

She is powerful indeed if she can see us in this place.

Fragments of a conversation. About her? But who was talking? Where were they talking?

Felitïa, you must listen to me.

Damn, those words wouldn’t leave her alone. I am listening to you. I’ve been listening to you for ages, but you never say anything.

No, she had to remember that these were memories. Memories weren’t going to respond to her now. She had to focus on what had happened then.

Someone knelt in front of her. A woman.

The most beautiful woman.

The memory was still hazy, the image partially formed. The woman looked like...Maneshka? No. That wasn’t right. There were similarities in appearance like skin colour, and her mind was now conflating the two separate memories into one. This wasn’t Maneshka. This woman was taller and older than Maneshka by maybe ten years or so. Her hair wasn’t short like Maneshka’s but worn in long dreadlocks, a couple of which hung over the sides of her face. There was a literal sparkle in her eyes.

Wait. That had to be her memory playing tricks on her. Eyes didn’t actually sparkle, despite the metaphors in stories. She still had to concentrate to not see Maneshka’s face instead of this woman’s. Her mind could easily be playing other tricks too.

Felitïa, you must listen to me. You will soon forget this, but you must remember.

No, the sparkle wasn’t in the woman’s eyes! It was in the eyes of the serpent carved into the top of the staff she was carrying—in the sparkling gems that were the serpent’s eyes.

Felitïa.

I don’t understand. Had she said that at the time? She must have.

Felitïa!

No, something wasn’t right.

A hand touched her shoulder.

“Felitïa!”

The woman… The memory of her crumbled away into the nothingness along with the well and the half-formed images of people.

Felitïa opened her eyes.

She had been so close.

It was Nin-Akna’s hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, but we’ve got company.”

Standing beside Nin-Akna was a familiar grey-bearded Folith in the uniform and armour of the City Watch. Two other watchmen stood behind him. He gave a small bow of his head and shoulders. “Your Highness, a pleasure to have you back in the city.”

“Almais,” Felitïa said.

“I trust you are well, your Highness?”

“Reasonably.” She stood up and looked him in the eye. He was only a little taller than her. “Is there something I can help you with, Captain?”

He shook his head. “No, your Highness. I was merely concerned. Sleeping outdoors in weather like this is not conducive to good health.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was meditating. Nonetheless, thank you for your concern. If there’s nothing else…” She turned a little as if to walk away, though she knew he wouldn’t be finished yet.

“I was also surprised to see you. I was not informed that you were in the city, so I wanted to extend my greetings.” A low level of contempt emanated from him—not that unusual from him, though he usually reserved it for Zandrue. “A visit from two members of the Royal household in such close proximity doesn’t happen often. I would have expected more fanfare.” A hint of disgust at the idea of fanfare for Felitïa drizzled from him. He must not have liked finding out she was a princess.

“I arrived unannounced to anyone, Captain. I’m not here for any Royal business.”

He straightened up and a hint of a smile played across his face. “Ah yes, I heard something about a banishment.”

Felitïa forced a smile. “Yes, so you needn’t worry about providing me any sort of security. I’ll take care of myself. Now, if I might be on my way?”

He moved so that he was still blocking her way. “I take it Zandrue is here too, your Highness?”

“No, so you needn’t worry about her either.”

“And this other person with you?” Revulsion briefly mixed in with his other emotions as he indicated Nin-Akna.

“A friend of mine, and as you said, she’s with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I have things to do.”

Almais stepped aside. “Of course, your Highness. My apologies for delaying you. I hope your stay in the city is a pleasant one. Please do be careful. As you know, the streets of Quorge can be dangerous for two young women without escort.”

“I am the escort,” Nin-Akna said.

Almais smirked. “Of course you are.”

“Let’s go,” Felitïa said, and started walking away.

Nin-Akna hesitated a moment before following. “Who was that guy?”

“A guy with a grudge against me for protecting Zandrue. No one to worry about.”

“You shouldn’t have let him get away with behaving like that.”

“It was best not to cause a scene.”

“If he treats me like that again, I’ll definitely cause a scene.”

Felitïa stopped walking and turned to face Nin-Akna, who stopped as well. “You…” She stopped herself from telling the Youth Guard not to. “Just be careful. He’ll have a lot of people on his side.”

Nin-Akna nodded. “Fine.” She looked about to say more, but said nothing. Annoyance flowed from her.

They started walking again.

After a minute or two, Nin-Akna said, “Did what you were trying to do work?”

Felitïa sighed. “I was so close. I remembered something new. A woman I met, I think.”

“At the well?”

“No. Or yes. Sort of? I’m not really sure. I was starting to remember, but then you interrupted.”

Nin-Akna lowered her head. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Almais. I’ll just go back and try another time.”

The walk through the streets was not what Felitïa had hoped for. She had envisioned it calming her, despite her anxieties. She’d hoped actually being here—actually seeing the familiar things around her—would help her relax. Instead, it was just making things worse. Every step she took towards the Hall of Knowledge brought with it memories of the past—of Elderaan in particular.

Should she visit the old shop at some point? See what Angelida had done with it?

She didn’t want to—too many memories to contend with—but perhaps it was something she needed to do.

“Reminds me of a temple,” Nin-Akna said when they came in sight of the Hall of Knowledge.

The Hall of Knowledge was blockier than a Ninifin step pyramid, but there was a resemblance. The elevated entrance at the top of a long flight of stairs was the main point of similarity.

A flight of steps that could be treacherous in bad weather.

Fluffy snow covered the steps, and the lack of footprints indicated no one had been up or down them since the snow fell. They weren’t likely to be icy at the moment, but they could be slippery.

“Watch your step.” Felitïa started up the steps.

The rubble from the collapsed gargoyle that had been here the last time she’d visited was now gone. The dragon gargoyle over the other side of the entrance doors continued to glare down at people climbing the stairs—continued to look like it might fall on top of anyone who dared stand beneath it.

It stayed in its perch, however, when they passed through the entrance doors and into the large hall beyond.

“The inside’s definitely not like a temple,” Nin-Akna said as they crossed the hall towards the meagre fireplace and the robed figure seated near it.

That figure put down a book and stood up to greet them. With their hoods up, the only librarian Felitïa could recognise was Pedrin due to his height. This was not Pedrin.

“May I help you?” The librarian pulled back his hood to reveal someone Felitïa still did not recognise. Someone new?

“Yes, I was hoping to speak to Ezmelda. I’m Felitïa...er...Asa. I’ve been known by both names here.” She bit her lip.

“Oh yes, I’ve heard of you.” He was a young Eloorin, in his early twenties at most. “You’re the princess who pretended to not be a princess, right?”

Felitïa gave a slow nod. “Yes. This is my friend, Nin-Akna.”

He brushed back a strand of dark, curly hair from his forehead. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Fridrin.” He gave a slight bow. Physically, he was very similar to Meleng. His gaze lingered on Nin-Akna, and Felitïa could sense his interest in her unusual appearance and even some attraction in him.

There was some discomfort coming from Nin-Akna, though. “So, this Ezmelda…”

Fridrin looked away from Nin-Akna. “Yes, of course. I think Ezmelda should be available. I’ll take you to her. Follow me.”

Felitïa nodded to Nin-Akna, and they followed.

The last time Felitïa had been in Ezmelda’s office, they had had a fight. Not an argument. A literal fight. So, as Fridrin knocked on the door, Felitïa shivered. She hadn’t seen Ezmelda since that day. How was Ezmelda likely to react to her return?

“Yes?”

Fridrin opened the door. “Sorry to bother you, but there are some people here to see you. One says her name is Felitïa.”

“Show her in.” There was urgency in Ezmelda’s tone.

Fridrin stepped aside and Felitïa entered. Nin-Akna followed.

Nothing had changed about Ezmelda’s office. Ezmelda stood behind the plain wooden desk at the end of the red carpet that ran the length of the room. She waited there while Felitïa and Nin-Akna crossed the room, Nin-Akna gazing about and taking everything in. There was a tenseness to Nin-Akna’s walk and Felitïa was picking up heightened alertness from her. Felitïa tried giving her a comforting smile, but Nin-Akna didn’t seem to notice.

“Felitïa. I’m glad to see you again.” Ezmelda did not come round the desk to greet her.

“Likewise,” Felitïa said.

The feelings emanating from Ezmelda were a mix: nervousness, irritation, some excitement, and more. “You’ve been gone quite some time.”

“Yes, I suppose I have.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Please, have a seat,” Ezmelda said, motioning to the two chairs in front of the desk.

Felitïa sat in one of them. “Thank you.”

Nin-Akna didn’t move. “I’d rather stand.”

Ezmelda nodded slowly. “As you wish.” She sat in the chair behind her desk.

“This is my friend, Nin-Akna,” Felitïa said.

“Nin-Akna. That’s a Ninifin name, isn’t it?”

Nin-Akna nodded. “Correct.”

“You don’t see very many Ninifins this far north.”

Nin-Akna just shrugged.

“Ezmelda,” Felitïa said, then paused. She took a deep breath as Ezmelda looked to her. “I know this might be a little awkward. That’s why I wanted to come to you as soon as possible after arriving in the city. Hopefully we can clear the air between us over what happened last time.”

“I told you last time, we had no choice.” Ezmelda’s irritation was rising.

Felitïa nodded. “I know, and I don’t blame you. I don’t hold any grudges. In fact, I want to apologise to you for keeping you in the dark about my identity for so long. I was...well, whatever my reasons, I should have told you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

Ezmelda sighed and her irritation receded. “For what it’s worth, Felitïa, I understand why you didn’t tell me or the rest of the council. And truth be told, Elderaan was at just as much fault, if not more. At any rate, we had no choice but to hand you over to Lord Belone. Nevertheless, I am sorry for doing it. I hope nothing too bad happened to you.”

Felitïa shook her head. “Not from Belone anyway. He just sent me to Arnor City. After that...well, that’s when things started getting interesting.”

Ezmelda raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

How much should she actually share with Ezmelda? There was a time when Felitïa would have trusted Ezmelda without a second thought, but that time was gone. It wasn’t just because of their last encounter with each other. So much else had changed in that time. Still, she needed Ezmelda’s help. “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when there’s more time. I’m going to be in Quorge for a while. I’m not sure how long yet, but a few months at least. Agernon is helping me with some research, and I’ll need access to the library here if you’ll allow it.”

“Is this to do with the boy from last time? I questioned Agernon and I know you went to him for the same thing last time.”

“It’s about the boy, yes, and a few other things.”

Ezmelda rubbed her forehead. “I see no reason to deny you access to the stacks. As long as Lord Belone doesn’t object, of course.”

Felitïa groaned. “Hopefully, that won’t be a worry. I intend to see him at some point, and I’ll try to make certain he doesn’t interfere with us here.”

“I would appreciate you keeping his attention away from us. Was there anything else?”

That was abrupt, though Felitïa didn’t really blame her. “Not for now. I just wanted you to know I was here...and to apologise.”

Ezmelda stood up again. “Very well. I’ll tell Pedrin and the other librarians to expect you.”

Felitïa stood up as well. “My friend Nin-Akna too. She’ll be helping me, and may need to come on her own sometimes.”

Ezmelda nodded at Nin-Akna. “Of course. You will be welcome here, too, Nin-Akna.”

Nin-Akna bowed her head. “Thank you.”

Ezmelda walked round the desk and led them back to the door. As she opened it, she said, “It’s been good seeing you again, Asa.” Sadness and happiness flowed from her in equal measure.

“And you, Madame Ezmelda.”

Felitïa and Nin-Akna left the office and Fridrin led them back to the entrance hall.

* * * * *

It figured.

A night free from the Staff’s incessant calling, a night when her head was actually quiet, a night when she should have been able to sleep soundly, and she still couldn’t sleep.

Felitïa lay in her inn bed staring at the far wall. Lon and Nesh were fiddling about under the covers at the end of the bed, occasionally brushing against her feet or toes. It was both a little ticklish and a little comforting.

Maybe she had just gotten so used to not having uninterrupted sleep that her body didn’t even remember how to sleep without interruption.

Or maybe it was her anxieties about being home.

Or both.

Whatever the case, lying here sleeplessly all night wasn’t going to do her any good. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well do something productive.

She threw back the blankets and put her feet on the floor. Holding out her hand, she coaxed Lon and Nesh to her. “Want to go for a walk?”

Nin-Akna stirred in the other bed. “Mm?”

“Nothing. Just talking to the rats.”

Nin-Akna grunted and fell silent again.

Felitïa didn’t want to disturb the young woman any further, so waited a few moments to make sure Nin-Akna had fallen back asleep. She could easily cast a spell to mask any sounds from waking Nin-Akna, but this was a good moment to practise alternative casting methods. Ever since she’d had her fingers broken, she’d realised how over-reliant she was on her hands and fingers for spellcasting.

The next easiest option was her feet. Curling her toes would direct the magical energy in similar ways to using her fingers. Unfortunately, that way also made it difficult to move while maintaining the spell. She pondered other options. Legs and knees would have the same problem as feet. Elbows? Shoulders? Head?

There was probably a way she could do it with a combination of her shoulders and elbows, but she still needed to get dressed. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would be difficult.

Her head though… She would normally include a slight head tilt with the spell. Perhaps if she increased that a little, combined it with a clamped jaw. That might work. They wouldn’t be the subtlest of movements, but they should do the trick, and she could work on making them subtler with practice.

She whispered the words, clamped her jaw, and tilted her head.

The result took a lot more energy than casting it her usual way. She felt a little like she was fourteen again, when every spell was awkward and drained more of her energy than it needed to.

But it worked, and that was the main thing.

Once she’d dressed and gathered up the rats, she slipped out the door and released the spell. It wasn’t quite like when she was fourteen when it would have used all her energy. She still had loads left. But it had been a strain, and she definitely needed more practice. She headed out of the inn.

The night air was cold and crisp. A few snowflakes floated through the air. Stars shone brightly in one half of the sky, while clouds covered the other half, the moon peeking out from behind them.

Felitïa didn’t know what she was going to do out here.

Okay, maybe she did, but she wasn’t sure whether she could actually do it.

Quorge was always quiet at this time of night. Once in a while, a sound drifted over from the docks, or a couple City Watchmen might march past. And of course, there were a few other people out at this time for whatever reason, but on the whole, it was quiet. Calm. Peaceful even.

Her path took her by the well again. No line-up this time, not surprisingly. She walked straight up to the well and peered into it. She wasn’t sure why, but it was somewhat comforting.

Perhaps she should try to jog her memories again. Free of disturbances, this might be the best time. Except she’d be putting off what she’d come out to do. Maybe on the way back.

When she looked up, there was a stocky figure farther down one of the streets leading away from the plaza. Barely discernible from a shadow, the figure was standing still and, although Felitïa couldn’t say for sure, seemed to be looking in her direction. The figure turned and hurried out of sight.

Felitïa took a deep breath.

Probably nothing.

Whoever it had been was probably just as startled to see her as she was to see them.

She continued on her way.

The last stretch of distance was the hardest to cover. Felitïa found herself walking slowly and pausing frequently. It occurred to her that making this trip in the middle of the night wasn’t going to be enough. She was going to have to come back in the daytime and go inside. Talk to Angelida even.

For now though, perhaps this was a good first step. Just looking at what was once Elderaan’s Mystic Palace was terrifying enough.

The old hanging sign was gone, replaced by a wooden sign fixed in place, flat over the door. That would get rid of the banging the old sign would make as it flipped back and forth in the wind. It would make it quieter for sleeping at nights. Nonetheless, over the years, Felitïa had grown to find that sound oddly soothing. She would be thankful for it now.

Not surprisingly, the name was new. The sign said simply, ANGELIDA’S.

Felitïa forced herself to approach closer, right up to the shop window. She tried to peer inside, but it was dark and the window was frosted from the cold. All she could make out were the shadowy shapes of shelves along with other shadows she just couldn’t see well enough to identify.

She looked at the door. She desperately wanted to take hold of the handle and turn it, open the door and rush inside to find Elderaan waiting there for her. She actually found her hand on it, tried to turn it. It was locked. And there was no Elderaan waiting inside for her.

She wiped away the tears forming in her eyes.

This was a stupid time to come here. What had she been thinking?

Still, in an odd sort of way, she felt a little better. Maybe she could even get a little bit of sleep. If so, the trip had been worth it. She’d leave trying to jog her memories at the well for another time.

Wiping away another tear, she turned to head back to the inn.

A stocky figure was standing in the shadows down the road. Whoever it was ducked into an alley.

Was someone following her?

Maybe this was a different person who just happened to have the same stocky build and the two sightings had been pure coincidence, but she doubted it. So someone was following her.

Felitïa brought up the Room, searching for mental presences, while she hurried in the direction the figure had gone. She readied herself to put the individual to sleep if necessary—with her standard casting methods. This was no time for unpractised alternatives.

She reached the alley and looked down it. In the darkness, no one was visible. There were no mental presences in the Room either. Perhaps whoever it was had gotten too far away for her to detect them. She still hadn’t figured out how distance worked in the Room.

She crept into the alley, trying to keep watch on what was to each side as well as straight ahead of her. She passed a couple of water-collection barrels, then a rickety flight of steps leading to the upper floor of the building on the right. A dim mental presence appeared in the Room. A second later, a cat scurried past her feet.

When she exited the other side of the alley, she looked both ways down the street. To her right, in the distance, were a couple City Watchmen, but otherwise, no one was in sight.

She turned to go back the way she’d come and there was the figure again—at the other end of the alley, where she had entered. How? She’d seen the person enter the alley. Had they somehow circled around? Had there been enough time? Maybe.

The figure darted off again, and Felitïa ran to follow.

There were still no mental presences in the Room other than her own. Even the cat’s presence was gone. This person should easily be close enough for her to sense. But when she reached the other side of the alley again, there was no sign of the individual.

Mister Speedy?

She didn’t remember him being so stocky. He was broad-shouldered though, so it could be him.

Maybe the individual had gone down another alley. There weren’t that many alleys around here. She could check each one, she supposed.

But was that a good idea? This person was clearly playing with her, goading her into chasing them. Maybe the best thing was to ignore it. Wait for whoever it was to come to her.

Felitïa.

That sounded like the Staff or the voices in her head—but she had tuned out the voices in her head, so that left only the Staff. Yet that was impossible. The Staff wasn’t here.

There was a shuffling behind her and she started to turn.

Pain exploded across the back of her head and everything went black.