Nikka & Raya

(Working Title)

A novel in progress by L. S. Taylor

One

They came upon Daita in the haze of late afternoon, when the fields blazed golden in the fading sun’s fire. Few people were about in the village at that time of day, but Nikka’s father called out friendly greetings to all. Daita was a small town, and he was well-liked. Even Nikka, who had good reason to fret, relaxed at the warm replies. 

Then they were past it, and their own farm loomed ahead. The fields were bare at this time of year, with the harvest gathered and autumn fast approaching. The herd of gako, her father’s main venture, grazed on the remnants; in the distance Nikka thought she could see her brother, checking one of the great shaggy livestock for mites.  

Gently tugging on the kurek’s reins, her father nudged the cart off the dusty road, slowing as it headed down the path toward the house. The slender brown beast hardly needed prodding: its long, curved horns arced back as it lifted its head, overcome with the familiar scents of herd and home. Seated next to her father, Nikka tensed as they drew close. She sighed, long and loud.

“Don’t worry, love.” He patted her back. “She won’t be angry for long.” Nikka raised an eyebrow, and her father winked. “She’ll come around if you give her time.” He drove the cart to the door, and helped her down.

Her mother stood in the doorway, scowling. Nikka stared at the ground.

“Wash up,” she snapped. “You’re a disgrace.”

She nodded once, and went inside without looking up.

The tub was filled, the water tepid. She unbound her braid and let the black waves cascade across her back. She bathed quietly, listening to the argument in the next room.

“It’s appalling! What am I going to do with her, Corin?”

“Kirsa, be reasonable. She’s only fifteen—”

“She’ll be sixteen before winter. More than old enough to marry!”

Nikka rubbed soap into her hair and worked up a lather. Washing it was the worst: when unbound, it fell past her knees. She started with the ends.

“Maybe she’s not ready.”

“She will be soon, if she knows what’s good for her!” Clanging sounds came from the kitchen. Kirsa was cooking supper. “She won’t always have such chances.”

Nikka scrubbed faster at her hair. Perhaps if she was hard enough, it would break.

Then her father said, “And if she doesn’t want to marry Mevik?”

Nikka dropped the soap.

Banished upstairs to her room, she lay on her bed, staring out the window. She hadn’t known it was possible to at once be both seething and numb.

Outside, the sun had already set, shadowing the land with night. Beyond her family’s farm, the Western Plains stretched out into the distance, going on forever, or at least until they fell into the sea. This Nikka knew to be true; she’d spent the past half-year in Noren, Tiria’s main port and capital. To the east, the plains ran farther still, meeting the mountains in a sprawl of hills.

She turned over and looked at the leather-bound book jutting out of her satchel. A gift from her brother at the New Year, it had been blank, but she’d filled nearly half of it already with her sketches. The thought of it brought a guilty grin to her lips. Drawing in class hadn’t been the only thing to get her kicked out of finishing school, but it had certainly helped.

A familiar weight settled on her back. She glanced over her shoulder at the tiny cat. “I won’t do it, Miko,” she told him, though she knew he wouldn’t reply. Only Elei, like her uncle, could expect that from their pets. “I don’t want to marry yet.”

Miko hopped down and licked her face. Then he started to purr. Nikka stroked his head as he settled on her pillow, beside her ear. Being with the cat was soothing, but her fingers soon grew restless. She reached for her sketchbook. “Stay there,” she told him.

As if he understood, Miko sat still, watching as she took down his small form with her stylus. She sketched his outline first, then marked out the white on his chest and paws. Quick, light strokes for the whiskers, a heavier touch as she filled in the black. Rough edges for his thick, long-haired coat. Faster and faster she sketched, her world shrinking to the book before her. Miko’s eyes flashed—

“You’d think he was Lord of the cats,” said a voice from the doorway, “the way he poses for you.”

Trance broken, Nikka dropped her stylus. “Bari!” She launched herself from the bed, into her elder brother’s arms. He was well-tanned and dusty, and he smelled of sweat.

“Hey now,” he laughed, pushing her away. “I can’t touch you, Nikka. I wouldn’t want to get a fine young lady dirty!”

“But I’m not! I was expelled, didn’t they tell you?” She looked up at him and winced, hoping he wouldn’t scold. Though his hair was lighter than hers, his eyes were the same azure blue, and like her own, darkened when angry. She relaxed a little when they didn’t.

Bari shook his head disapprovingly, but grinned nonetheless. “Mother’s furious, you know. You’re not to leave the house until after the Harvest Social.”

She clenched her fists. She’d expected as much. “It’s not fair, Bari. Why does she do this?”

“She married Father. She’s making up for it.”

“By betrothing me to Lord Damino’s son?”

He spread his hands. “She wants the best for you.”

“For me?” Her laugh was bitter. “For her, you mean.”

Bari didn’t argue. “Supper will be ready soon,” he told her. “She expects you down there now.” He closed the door behind him as he left.

Nikka flopped down onto the bed, startling Miko. He jumped through the window, onto the roof, and looked back at her expectantly.

She blinked. “Good idea.” Gathering her sketchbook and stylus, and a woolen shawl from her pack, she followed the cat outside.

*              *              *

Raya’s aunt let her out of the car across the street from their new school. “I’ll park around the back,” she said. “Meet me there when Homeroom’s over, if you can’t find my class.” Raya shut the car door, and her aunt drove off down the street.

She looked around; green was everywhere. Valley Heights was above the town centre, set in the crook where the hill turned steep. The cross-streets went on for a dozen blocks more, but here the forest began, mingling with houses until it blanketed the mountainside beyond. Just a few feet away, a tree-lined trail wound between two houses, ending in a huddle of tall bushes. There wasn’t even a curb on this side of the street: Cars pulled alongside a packed-earth sidewalk to let the students out.

This was her new home. Closer to the mountains, North Vancouver was different from the city, a bit more like the Canada everyone bragged about. It was beautiful, but Raya wasn’t yet sure if she liked it.

She took a deep breath, and choked. A clan of smokers clustered by the bushes, and the fumes burned the back of her throat. Eyes watering, she dropped her pack on the ground, held a shirtsleeve to her face, and tried to stop coughing.

Someone patted her back, and a bottle was thrust into her hands. “Drink it,” he told her.

She twisted off the cap and drank. The water went down easier than she expected; she stopped coughing. She wiped her eyes.

“You okay?” A boy stood by her, and Raya did a double-take: he was almost as tall as she. He wasn’t dressed in the studded leather that most of the other smokers wore, but a wallet chain dangling from his khakis said he was part of their group.

“I think so,” she said. “Too much smoke.”

He shrugged. “You get used to it.” Taking his water bottle back, he took a swig before stashing it in his pack.

Raya slung her own bag over one shoulder. “Thank you.” She straightened her shirt, and smiled briefly at the boy, but now he was staring at her. She cringed. Most boys gave her looks now that she had breasts, and Raya didn’t like it. She crossed her arms. “What?”

“You...” He frowned, and their eyes met; with a start she realized they were the same deep blue as her own. “You’re...” he began again, and forgot to finish. Well, she thought, at least he’s not looking at my chest.

She turned away. “What are you staring at?”

He blinked. “I—uh—sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mop of brown bleached paler than her blonde. “You looked like someone I know.” 

“That’s impossible. I just moved here.”

“Hey, Pete!” One of the smokers beckoned him back to their gang. “Who’s your girlfriend?”

“Um.” Raya coughed, but not from the smoke. “I have to go.” Crimson-faced, the boy nodded, and she turned away. She stepped in front of a stopped car and looked at the driver for permission; its occupants, two men in suits, waved her aside. She waited for an opening in the traffic, and crossed the street to the school.

Her class was on the first floor, across from the library. At fifteen minutes to go, she ducked inside the latter room, searched out and headed for the fiction section, at the back.

There wasn’t much of one: half a wall and a few spinning racks for paperbacks. Raya wrinkled her nose, unimpressed, but glanced through the selection nonetheless.

She was reading the back of a book when the image took her: a grey room, bare but for a metal table. She shivered; she only wore a nightgown, and she was small again. There was a man there, a thin man in a white coat—

“You like Kerrigan?”

Jolted back to the present, Raya dropped the book. A girl had approached.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She pointed at the book. “You read Kerrigan?”

“Oh,” she said, picking it up. “No, I was only looking.”

“Well, you’re better off going to the public library. That’s book five, and the school doesn’t have half the series.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she added, though she didn’t intend to read them. She wasn’t that fond of Fantasy.

“No problem. They’re good books.” The girl grinned up at her. Cropped red hair framed her round face; she stood a full head shorter than Raya. “Are you new here?”

“I just moved from New West,” she said. “My—”

A bell rang. The girl shrugged. “Homeroom time,” she said. “I’m Shaundra, by the way. You?”

“Raya.”

She nodded. “See you around.”

Raya followed her out of the library, and couldn’t help but laugh when she entered the same homeroom. “Aren’t you a grad?” Shaundra asked, surprised.

She shook her head. “I’m just tall,” she said, sitting down at a desk.

Shaundra took the seat beside hers. “You sure don’t look like you’re in Grade Ten.”

“I get that a lot.”

The bell rang again, but the class hardly came to order. Seconds later a teacher rushed into the room, a stack of papers in her arms. “Hi,” she said, as the babble finally dimmed. “I’m Ms. Nada, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for the year. I bet you’ve been waiting all summer to get back here, hmm?”

A chorus of groans answered her. She beamed.

“Yeah,” Shaundra whispered, before Raya could ask. “She’s a little loopy.”

“Loopy?” Raya hissed back. “Or just sadistic?”

The girl shrugged. “A bit of both.”

Ms. Nada gave a few announcements, then let the class dissolve into quiet chatter as she called students up individually to provide them with administration packages and locker combinations. Shaundra quizzed Raya on her favorite authors; little else happened until the teacher came to her name. “Ray-ah May-I?” she called.

Raya grimaced. Everyone mispronounced her name.  “Rye-ah,” she said, correcting the woman, as she’d done for others countless times before. “Raya Ma-ya-ee.”

“Oh, sorry, dear. Raya Mayai, then.” She smiled. “You’re Dara’s niece, aren’t you? You look just like her.”

Raya reddened. Nodding, she took her papers and sat back down. None of her classmates had snickered too loudly, but it was enough to make her want to be someplace else.

Why had her aunt insisted that they move here? Couldn’t she just commute? North Vancouver wasn’t that far from New Westminster, not even an hour unless traffic was bad. Raya could have stayed where her friends were, and they wouldn’t have had to move.

Shaundra nudged her. “What was that?”

“My aunt’s a teacher.” At the girl’s questioning look, she added, “We live together. When she transferred here, I had to come, too.”

“What about your parents?”

“Dead.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Shaundra blushed and looked away.

Raya let her simmer in guilt for a bit. Really, there was nothing to be ashamed of; perhaps she might miss them if she could remember them, but explaining to near-strangers why she couldn’t took far too much time for her to bother. Instead she said, “It happens,” and Shaundra smiled an apology, relieved.

“What does your aunt teach?”

“Social Studies,” said Raya. “She’s also doing an after-school class, for the Gifted Program.”

Shaundra brightened. “About time they brought that back. They axed it halfway through Grade Eight.” She shifted in her seat. “It’s not so bad, you know,” she said, after a pause.

“What?”

She shrugged. “My dad teaches Math.”

A welcome-back assembly followed homeroom. The principal of Valley Heights gave a boring, start-of-year speech, and then Ms. Mayai, the only new teacher that year, was introduced. Eventually, they were dismissed: the first day back was only a half-day. Afterward, Raya found her aunt’s classroom without much difficulty. The woman was going through papers when Raya knocked on the open door; she looked up at the girl expectantly.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

Raya nodded.

Dara stood. Like Raya, she wore her waist-length blonde hair unbound, and she swept it behind her shoulder as she pushed in her chair. She turned to the girl.

Raya frowned. As her aunt moved, she found herself jolted to another place and time: she glimpsed a woman not so blonde, whose eyes were hazel, not blue. They were outside, for the wind blew wisps of her hair across her face. Raya stumbled across the grass toward her—

“Let’s go, then,” said Dara.

She shook her head. Abruptly the scene dissolved, and she was back in the classroom. She nodded, still confused, and followed her aunt out to the car.

Two

Barns, Nikka decided, were not meant to be used as gathering halls. Gako dung left a nasty smell that with even the fiercest of scrubbing was hard to remove from the wooden floor. Nikka suspected the only reason the barn had a floor was that her mother had insisted on it: Kirsa enjoyed entertaining, a remnant of her once-high station. With the hot, dry, end-of-summer weather, Nikka would rather the Harvest Social be held out-of-doors this year, had she any say in the matter. However, she did not, and she’d earn another scolding if the task was left undone, so she scrubbed.

From a high windowsill, Miko watched her work. From time to time, Nikka would scowl up at the little cat—it had been he, after all, who had tempted her to run off last night. Abruptly the feline would resort to grooming, licking dirt from his white nose and belly and sorting out the rest of his silky black fur.

She cringed at the sound of footsteps on the path. Thrice already Kirsa had come to scold her. “I want it clean, Nikka!” she’d snapped the last time. “The Social is tomorrow!”

Nikka scrubbed, not looking up. 

Her visitor spoke. “You needn’t ignore me.”

 She glanced at the man standing over her shoulder, and relaxed some. Tall like she was, with hair just as dark, her uncle Jais was a kind man whose easy manner made him seem more like Corin’s brother than Kirsa’s. Nikka murmured, “If I don’t finish, she’ll yell at me. She always does.”

“Kirsa’s quick to anger,” her uncle replied. “Much like our father.”

Nikka had nothing to say to that; she’d never met the man. “She wants me to marry Mevik.”

“She would.” Jais laughed. “Do you?”

“Of course not!” She sat up, stricken. “Are you mad?”

He shrugged. “Some would say so,” he said. “Our parents did. They think it’s a disgrace to be an Elei. They don’t understand that if I’d denied my powers, I’d have died.”

Forcing a smile, Nikka nodded, and she shifted from her knees to a more comfortable position. Jais never hid his contempt for his birth family. In any other country, the highborn were proud to have Elei children, but Waru was notorious for its dislike of magic. Being an Elei was as disgraceful as marrying low—which his sister had done. When Kirsa headed west to Tiria with Corin, he had followed. Neither spoke well of the country from which they’d been shunned. 

Nikka resumed scrubbing.

“What will you do?” he asked.

She looked up at her uncle.  “What?”

“Will you marry Mevik?”

She looked away. “No.”

“You could go to another school.”

Nikka blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve one in mind for you,” he said.

She shook her head. “They’re all too strict. I’d only be sent home again.”

“Ah, Nikka.” He grinned, wagging a finger at her. “Who said it was a finishing school?”

She frowned. Was there really any other kind?

“I’ll speak with Kirsa about it,” Jais said at last. “She may need some convincing. We can discuss it later.” He moved to leave, then paused at the window. “Ho, Miko,” he greeted the cat. “What do you think?”

It’s about time.

“Yes,” said Jais. “Perhaps it is.” Nodding toward Nikka, he left.

She sat there frozen, mouth agape. Impossible, she told herself. I imagined it. Only Elei can speak with animals—and women can’t have magic, everyone knows that! She glanced up; the cat was washing one paw. “You can’t talk,” she told him. “Not with me.”

Suit yourself.

Nikka stared at him. Miko stared back.

You really ought to get back to work, he said. Your mother’s awful when she’s angry.

Trembling, she looked at the floor. Her nose twitched; the reek of gako dung hit her, hard. Her eyes darted to the bucket of soapy water, and she took the wire brush in hand. She turned once more to the mess before her, and attacked.

Ela came just as she was finishing up. “Kirsa said you were out here,” she said.

Nikka dumped the bucket of fresh water onto the floor and swept it over the wooden boards with her broom. “I came back yesterday.” 

Her brown-haired friend nodded. “Bari told me.” Blushing, she added, “He was by today on an errand.”

“Did he tell you why?” Satisfied with her work, Nikka pushed the excess water out the entrance. She leaned the broom against one wall.

“Yes,” said Ela. “But really, Nikka, even if all of Daita knew, no one would care. School is for city girls.”

“Mother cares. She wants me to marry Mevik Damino.”

Again Ela nodded as though she’d heard it already. Nikka raised an eyebrow. “Just what was Bari doing over there?”

“Speaking with my father.” Her face, if it was possible, went redder. “I wasn’t privy to the details.”

Nikka shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll know soon enough.” She picked up the bucket and brush. “I ought to wash up. I must stink like a thousand gako.”

Sniffing, Ela shook her head. “You’re quite clean. I can hardly smell a thing.” Surveying the barn, she asked, “Was this punishment for being expelled?”

“Maybe. I ran off last night.”

The girl laughed. “You haven’t changed.”

“Ela, I’ve only been gone half a year. Nothing’s changed.”

I wouldn’t be so sure of that, said Miko.

She shot him a glare.

“I should go,” Ela said. “Mother wants me home to cook supper.”

“You’re not going to visit?”

“I really can’t, Nikka. The Harvest Social is tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you there, then. We can play cards with Ryle.”

Ela shrugged. “Maybe,” she said, and departed.

Looking down at herself, Nikka sniffed. Nothing. “Well,” she muttered to Miko, “I still want a bath. Coming?”

In a minute, he said. When I feel like it.

She scowled. “I don’t know what Uncle Jais did to you,” she told him, “but I think I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

*          *          *

Mother, who are you? Father, who am I?

Where did I come from? When will I die?

Silently, Raya sang along to the music pumping through her Discman as she headed down the crowded third floor hall. School was out for the day, but she still had another class.

You gave me away and you didn’t ask why

You didn’t even care and you didn’t even try

But I wanna know before I die

Where did I come from? Who am I?

The song flowed through her like a special sort of power. When she wore her headphones, all else became muted and distant. She was alone, even in a zoo like this, and she liked it.

Which room was it again? Raya took her knapsack off and was about to pull out her agenda when she saw Shaundra waving at her. How eager can you get? she wondered, checking her watch. It doesn’t even start for ten minutes. She slid the headphones down to her shoulders, returning the girl’s friendly greeting.

“Whatcha listening to?” Shaundra asked.

“Taylor.”

“Seriously?” Raya nodded. “You know he’s from Vancouver, right? Well, New West.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m from there too, remember?” Ruthlessly, she added, “I met him once, before he was famous. Aunt Dara used to be his teacher.”

Shaundra’s eyes widened. “No way,” she breathed.

“I mean it,” she said. “Ask my aunt.”

“That’s awesome,” Shaundra declared. “Man, I am so envious of you!”

“Don’t be,” she told the girl. “Powers, just…don’t.”

Shaundra shrugged. “Okay, whatever.”

Raya’s aunt arrived a few minutes later, and let the girls inside. A few other students followed. The room had been designed specifically for meetings, with a large central table instead of desks. When most had settled down in their seats, a lanky boy with bleached blond hair walked in. Seeing Raya, he froze in his tracks.

“Uh…hey,” he said to her.

She met his eyes. Two days before, he’d saved her from choking to death. “Hi,” she replied, not sure if she should smile. Something about the boy made her nervous.

“Welcome, Peter,” said Dara. “Please take a seat so we can begin.”

He sat on Raya’s free side, and she fixed full attention on her aunt.

“All right, let’s get started.” The woman took a look around the room, at the dozen students watching her. “There’s a reason they call this ‘Gifted Class’. Obviously, you are here because you have a gift. My job is to nurture it, maybe make you think a little. With any luck, we’ll turn it into something useful. A power, perhaps.”

It was barely audible, but beside her, Raya heard Peter snort.

“I’m Ms. Mayai,” her aunt continued. “We’ll be starting each class with an exercise I like to call ‘Hypothetics’. Here’s how it works: I’ll ask a ‘what if’ question, and together, you’ll brainstorm any issues that surround it. Any questions?”

The room was silent.

“Well then.” Dara took a deep breath. “Here’s our first. Speaking of power … what if you had real powers? The ability to do things others might consider magical? What would you do? How would you use your gifts?”

Hearing laughter, Raya turned sharply and glared at Peter. Powers, she swore to herself. What is his problem?

She wouldn’t understand.

Her expression faltered; she’d heard him speak, but his lips hadn’t moved. No, she thought, I don’t understand.

Now it was Peter’s turn to stare. You heard me.

What?

You heard me, he repeated. You’re an Elei, too, aren’t you?

I don’t know what you’re talking about. What was going on?

“Raya? Peter?” Dara asked. “Would you like to share your thoughts?”

Peter shrugged. Raya shook her head.

“Anyone else?”

Shaundra raised her hand. “If I had magic, I’d use it to help people. Like, with healing and stuff.” A murmur of consent went around the room.

Aunt Dara nodded thoughtfully. “And your name is?”

“Shaundra.”

“Perhaps I should take attendance now,” Dara admitted. “But while I do so, I want you to think: are there any dangers to having magical powers?”

Plenty, said Peter. He sounded bitter. Raya didn’t know whether he meant for her to hear the thought—bewildered as she was, she still somehow knew it was a thought—but she heard him nonetheless.

The room was silent while Dara took attendance. When she was done, Peter raised his hand.

“You’d have to hide your powers,” he said, when she called on him. “Some people are—well, they’d be afraid of magic, so they’d be afraid of you. And others might try to make you use it for bad things.”

“Exactly,” said Dara. “So what would you do?”

Shaundra laughed. “That always happens in books. It’s like he says, if you live in our world, you have to keep stuff like magic hidden. You can only use it in secret, unless you find others like you.”

Most of the class listened with interest, but now a brown-haired girl—Raya thought her name was Deb—spoke up. “Magic or no magic, isn’t that already true? Gay people have to hide who they are sometimes. So do those who follow alternate religions.”

And the Elei, Peter added, nudging Raya with an elbow. She jumped. We live our lives in secret. We have to, don’t we?

I wouldn’t know, she told him, privately wishing he would stop speaking to her this way. I don’t even know what an Elei is.

You’re one of us, he said. You have to be, if you know mindspeech. My sister and I talk this way. Sometimes my mom does, too. Don’t you have any family with magic?

No, she thought at him, angry now. I don’t. Please, stop this. She tried to concentrate on the discussion, but all the mindspeech, as he called it, made her head hurt.

Yeesh, he thought at her. Cool your jets.

Leave me alone, she told him, giving him a full-on glare. Her eyes were daggers and she’d clenched her fists, but at this proximity he’d see that she was pale and trembling.

You’re afraid of me. He inched away in his seat, as if to give her room. I can’t believe it. Don’t you get it? You’re an Elei, you have to be!

Raya turned from him, unable to handle his desperate expression any longer. She stared at the table. Please, she repeated. Just leave me alone.

Aunt Dara cut in, announcing the end of class. “I know the summer just finished, so I won’t push your brains too much.” She pointed at the clock; it was only four, and technically they had another half-hour to go. “You can expect more thinking next time.”

Relieved, the students filed out quickly. Raya remained seated, waiting for her aunt, and Shaundra hung around, likely waiting for Raya. Peter seemed to take longer than the rest of the class, fumbling with his bag. He moved to leave, then paused. I’m sorry, he said.

Raya didn’t reply.

*          *          *

At the barn’s tall double doors, in her best blue dress, Nikka stood with her mother, waiting for the guests to arrive. The interior was hung with lanterns, and chairs clustered along the sides. It hardly looked like a gako barn now.

“Well,” said Kirsa, “It’s cleaner than I expected. I suppose you did learn some discipline while you were gone.”

A small knot untwisted inside Nikka; it was the closest thing to a compliment she’d received from her mother since her return. “Can I go when Ela gets here?” she asked. She tried not to sound too eager.

“If you wish. You’ve earned it, for once.”

“Thank you.”

Kirsa sighed. “You do know that I only want the best for you, don’t you, Nikka? You’re highborn, no matter how things have turned out. You deserve better than this.”

“Will you send me to school again?”

“Not if you’re going to get yourself thrown out.”

“Did Uncle Jais—”

“Yes, we’ve talked. And frankly, I don’t know what to think, but it is an option. It wouldn’t cost us anything, certainly, so I could dress you better.” That comment stung; it was another reminder of the last maid her mother had dismissed in order to pay for the other school. She did chores on her own now—or made Nikka do them. “I’m just not sure if it’s the right sort of environment for you.”

Nikka bit her lip, resisting the urge to ask what school it was. Clearly, Kirsa assumed she already knew.

“What do you think?” asked her mother.

“Er…” Nikka floundered for words, hoping she wouldn’t regret them later. “Maybe I should go. If Uncle Jais suggested it, then, well, it’s probably a good idea.”

“But if we send you, will you behave?”

She shrugged. “I can try.”

Kirsa studied her for a moment. “I’ll think about it,” she said, then turned to greet the first guest of the evening. Old Gurku harrumphed a reply, stomped inside, and set a keg of ale on one table. Sitting on a stool, he unslung his merrin from his back, and proceeded to tune it. Gurku was in charge of the evening’s entertainment.

The rest of the village, it seemed, followed directly after that. Soon the barn was filled with people, the table laden with food. As the crowd passing through the doors dwindled, Nikka caught sight of Ela, walking quietly behind her parents. She had to look twice to see her: the girl wore a long green dress, and her brown hair was pulled back with ribbons.

“An excellent party as always, Kirsa,” said Ela’s father, peering inside. “You outdo yourself every time.”

Kirsa curtsied, beaming with pride, but Nikka’s attention was on her friend. “Come, let’s see if anyone wants to play cards,” she said, dragging her away from their parents. “I don’t want to dance until I must.” She stopped; Ela hadn’t moved very far. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not sure if I feel like it, Nikka.”

“What’s wrong? You look ill.”

“I think I’d rather just sit—”

“Nikka!”

She turned around to see the young man striding toward her. “Ryle!” she cried.

He caught her up in a hug and swung her around. Broad-shouldered, sandy-haired and tall, Ryle was Lord Damino’s second son. “It’s been ages,” he exclaimed, standing back to appraise her. “Powers, you’ve gotten taller, haven’t you?”

“I only left after the Spring social.” She beamed at him until she noticed the embroidered insignia on his shirt. “Oh, Ryle,” she breathed. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ryle wore the badge of a novice Elei.

“It happened after you left,” he explained. “I’m late coming to my powers, but they’re not small. Your uncle’s taking me to the school in a few days.”

“Then you’re leaving?”

“Only for a year or so. Let’s sit down, shall we?” He took her hand.

“Ela—” She turned to her friend, but the girl had disappeared. “All right, then,” she said, somewhat exasperated. What was wrong with her?

They found seats at a cluster of chairs in one corner. “Will you miss me?” he teased. “Whatever will you do with yourself while I’m gone?

“I’ll probably go to school myself,” she admitted. “Uncle Jais has one in mind.”

“Avoiding my brother? Good idea,” he said. “You do know he’s declared his intentions?”

“Unfortunately. I’d rather not marry anyone yet, least of all him.”

“Lucky for me, I’ll be training.  I won’t have to think of that sort of thing until my return. You know,” he said slyly, giving her a sidelong glance, “you’d be doing me a great favor by wedding Mevik. Promise to have lots of children, so I won’t ever have to be Lord of Daita.”

Nikka glared at him until he burst into laughter, and then she did, too.

In another corner, accompanied by a trio of foot-stompers, Gurku struck up a rowdy tune on his merrin. “Care to dance?” Ryle asked her.

“I’d rather play cards.”

“It’s me or Mevik. He’s headed this way.”

Nikka glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Ryle’s elder brother was quickly making his way toward them. “Perhaps a dance would be nice,” she agreed, taking his offered hand.

They managed two boisterous sets and were halfway through a slower one before Mevik cut in. “Brother dearest,” he said, “You shouldn’t hoard all the beauties to yourself. Might I have a turn with Nikka?”

“If she wishes,” said Ryle, with a bow.

Knowing she couldn’t avoid a dance without offending him, Nikka shrugged, her attention in the distance. Ela looked to be deep in conversation with Bari. She didn’t appear as ill as she had earlier, but she still seemed nervous.

“Let’s dance, then,” said Mevik, placing an arm around her waist. “It’s been awhile, Nikka. How did you find finishing school?”

“Umm,” she said, most of  her attention still on her brother and best friend. “It was an experience.”

Mevik smiled, his thick lips spreading the width of his face. Though he was as tall as Ryle, his hair was darker and his shoulders were not so broad. “Have you given thought to your future?”

Nikka met his eyes. She tried not to cringe, and barely hid her grimace. She knew what was coming next, and there was only one way to stop it. Taking a breath, she said, “Yes.”

“Oh?” He sounded pleased, but that was nothing new. Mevik was always amiable toward her. 

She nodded, and plunged on, donning her most ladylike voice. “I mean, I’ll be sixteen soon. I know I’m not ready for something so important as marriage. I’d like to return to school and improve myself. After all,” she added, “I’ve been told that a woman should be the best she can for her husband. Anything less would be unacceptable, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well, now,” he protested. “Those are wise words, but some would say there is no need for perfection, not in someone so lovely and intelligent as you. You are close enough already.”

“But I don’t feel close,” she insisted. “If I stopped now, I would hate myself.”

“Nikka,” he pressed, “do you know what I mean to do?”

She lowered her eyes. “All I know is that I am not ready for marriage. Until I have done all that I can to be the woman I am meant to be, I mustn’t take that step.”

“Oh, you say that with such passion!” Before she could stop him, Mevik leaned toward her and kissed her on the cheek.

How dare he? She slapped him, hard.

“Nikka Raki!” shrieked Kirsa. “You apologize to him this instant!”

She scowled. Trust her mother to watch her every move around Mevik.

“Kirsa, it was nothing,” he told her, as she begged him for mercy herself. “I deserved that. Forgive me, Nikka, for being so forward. You are too beautiful, too impassioned, and I was overcome.” When she was silent, he continued, undaunted. “Your daughter must go back to school, Kirsa, if she truly wants it. Let her learn all that she can. Know that I will wait as long as it takes, for she is a jewel.” Bowing to them, he kissed Nikka’s hand.

Around them, onlookers turned back to the party. Nikka tried to edge away from Mevik and her barely-mollified mother, and scanned the crowd for her friends.

“Excuse me!”

The shout cut through the room. Nikka’s father surfaced, climbing onto a stool to be heard. “May I have your attention, please!” he cried. When the room fell silent, he continued. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming; as you know, my dear wife takes pride in being able to provide us with such a fine party each year.” He gestured to Kirsa, who curtsied out of habit. “However, there is another cause for celebration this evening.” Corin paused while the room surged into noise again, and spoke again when it was silent. “I am both honored and proud to announce the betrothal of Ela Tami to my son Baranor!”

Nikka’s mouth fell open. Had she heard him right?

She had. Another stool surfaced, and Ela’s father was visible to everyone in Daita. Glad for any occasion to celebrate, the villagers erupted into hollers of congratulations and applause, so loud that only Nikka and the few people nearby heard Kirsa scream, “What?”

Nikka stood in place, letting the reality of the betrothal sink in, but her mother had already set to work. She didn’t notice Kirsa deep in discussion with Mevik until it was  far too late.

Kirsa’s sharp whistle cut through the roar of celebrations. Waving about and standing on a stool of her own, once she’d silenced the din to murmurs, she spoke.

“We’ve another announcement this evening,” Kirsa shouted. “Our most honored guest, Mevik Damino, has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage. It is my pleasure to tell you that Nikka accepts!”

The villagers thundered even louder than they had before. Nikka stood there dumbfounded until hands dragged her forward, pulling her in Kirsa’s direction. “Wait, no—no, don’t—please—” Realizing what was happening, she tried to resist their grasp, but too many held on for her to fight it. She was joyously deposited beside her mother’s stool, next to Mevik.

“Oh, Nikka,” he exclaimed, thick lips spread wide in a grin. “Isn’t this wonderful?”

She shook her head. “This is absurd! I’ve accepted nothing.” She stepped sideways to put distance between them, and yelped when someone kicked her sharply in the side. Nikka whirled around to see her mother, who glared down a warning from her stool.

That, she later realized, pushed her anger over the edge. She returned the expression, her bewilderment replaced with pure, red-hot rage. “I have not!” she screamed. “I will not marry him! I refuse!”

            A strange thing happened then. Nikka kicked her mother’s stool hard, and the wood splintered, toppling Kirsa. Then, as she stormed from the room, the barn’s doors exploded outward, fragmenting as they flew off their hinges.

Confused, upset, and still very much enraged, she broke into a run, not stopping until she reached her bedroom. Once there, she flung herself onto her bed and cried.

Three

In her dream she was small again, back in the days when she was someone else, someone better than Raya. Gone too were the cold room and the strange men in white coats; this came before then, in a happier place.

They were playing in a bedroom, she and the boy. He was smaller than her, but just as blonde. She held up her hands, and he did too, and they brought them together, as close as they could without touching. Then, taking the lead, she drew on the power within, letting the blue fire flow through her fingertips and around their hands. He followed her motion, and soon they were surrounded in a bright sphere of power, the colour of sapphires and as precious.

This is our secret.

She woke then, feeling a sadness greater than any she could remember since she’d lived with her aunt. The dream evaporated in moments, but still she found herself staring at her palms. Who am I?

It was mornings like these that she wished she could remember her life before the accident.

Raya looked at the clock; it was Saturday and still early. She rolled over and pulled her covers close, trying to sleep, but smells and soft clinks from the kitchen permeated her room. Aunt Dara was cooking breakfast.

She climbed out of bed and shivered despite her pajamas. It was cold for September, as if the start of school was the weather’s permission to abandon summer. Donning a robe and slippers, she ambled down the hall to the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” Dara remarked.

Raya sat at the computer and opened her email. “I couldn’t sleep any longer. What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs on toast. Who said I made any for you?” she teased, but when Raya glanced over, her aunt was doling out portions for two.

She closed the window on her computer screen, disappointed. Alex had written to confirm she’d be by later that morning. Otherwise, her inbox was empty.

Sitting at the table, she noticed the tea, and brightened. “Samiran Blue! When did you get more of that?”

Dara grinned, stowing the swirl-patterned box back in the cupboard. “Last night, when you were on the computer. Powers, Raya, you never notice anything when you’re at that machine.” 

She blushed, sipping slowly to savor the taste. Supposedly named for its color, the tea was sweet, and tasted somewhat of mint. Her aunt had to go to a place out of town to get Samiran Blue tea leaves. She’d never been there herself.

“Is Pam coming today, too?” asked Dara.

“She’s dropping Alex off. She’s got some errands to run here while we visit.”

“Well, invite her up for a bit.” Dara set down her empty mug and took her dishes to the sink. “I bought a box of Blue for her, too.”

*          *          *

The tin bucket clanked against the sides of the well as Nikka yanked it upward, water splashing out with each vicious tug. To fill the larger bucket she’d brought, she’d have to send this one clattering back into the well’s depths many times, but Nikka was furious enough with Kirsa that she reveled in anything that kept her mother waiting.

Her mother! Nikka snorted and kicked her bucket, watching the water spill into the sun-cracked earth. What sort of woman was Kirsa, pulling this on her own daughter without even a moment’s warning?

She knew the answer, and it was infuriating.

Had she any normal mother, Nikka would not be expected to act like a lady. She would not have been sent to finishing school, and she would certainly not be out here at this moment, enduring punishment. However, Nikka was Kirsa’s daughter, and Kirsa, despite her choice of husband, remained a noblewoman at heart.

Kirsa would not be crossed.

Yet Corin had done just that, arranging the marriage of Ela and Bari behind her back. What better way to get her revenge, than to betroth their daughter to Lord Damino’s own heir?

That had been two days ago. Despite the attentions of Uncle Jais, Kirsa’s broken ankle was still, apparently, sore. Nikka was secretly pleased, and endured the resultant tongue-lashing without complaint. Corin would have none of it: while he’d incurred his wife’s wrath for keeping Bari’s engagement a secret, he refused to support her plans for Nikka. Bari, meanwhile, seemed to be spending far more time visiting Ela than was natural, even for a man betrothed. The Raki household was in shambles.

Nikka’s rage had not abated, though she’d broken nothing since. She’d accepted the punishment to put an end to her mother’s screaming, but she dallied about in every way she could after that.

Now there was good reason for it. Tonight Mevik would be joining them for supper, an indication that Kirsa’s scheming hadn’t ceased. As she walked back to the house, toting a bucket barely two-thirds full, she wondered what her mother had planned for tonight. Whatever it was (and she could well guess what that might be), Nikka would do her best to ruin it. She took a roundabout way, crossing the gako pasture. The slow, hulking beasts, with their squashed-in faces and rough black coats, were concerned with nothing more than the withered grass before them. They barely spared her a glance as she ground fresh dung into the soles of her boots.

She met Ela as she approached the house, and her stomach turned. “Hi,” she said, more than a little nervous. She was still uncertain how she felt about her friend’s engagement. “We’d wanted to tell you,” Bari had explained the day after the Harvest Social, “but you know how Mother is. We couldn’t take any chances.”

“I’m glad to know you think I can’t be trusted,” she’d snapped.

“Nikka, wait. Don’t—”

She left before he could make things right. Bari knew how to calm her, and she hadn’t wanted that this time. He hadn’t spoken to her since.

Now Ela smiled warmly, much more like her old self than she’d been a few days ago, and Nikka’s apprehension ebbed. “I brought something to appease your mother,” Ela said, hefting a still-warm pie.

“Good luck,” said Nikka. “She’s in the kitchen.” Ela followed her around to the back, and Nikka let her in.

“Kirsa?” her friend called. “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s all right.”

The woman, seated because of her ankle, was silent. Tracking dung into the kitchen, Nikka crept in past Ela, set the bucket on the countertop beside her mother, and tried to creep out again.

“Get back here,” said Kirsa.

Nikka did so, but stayed out of arm’s reach.

“I’ll need more water than this.” She emptied the bucket into her kettle, to which she was adding chopped vegetables and chunks of meat. “Fill it up this time, and be quick about it. I won’t keep our company waiting because the meat’s not cooked.” She slapped Nikka’s hand soundly when the girl made to take the bucket back. “And clean up when you’re done. You smell horrible.” Nikka snatched the pail and stomped out.

Once outside, she paused by the window, waiting for Ela. She couldn’t possibly last very long, not when Kirsa was so furious.

“Hear me out,” the girl pleaded. “You seem to think we’ve all conspired against you, but that’s not true. I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn’t let me. Bari—Baranor,” she corrected herself, “he said I couldn’t even tell Nikka, and you know she’s my friend. Please, accept my apology, because I never wished to do you wrong.”

Kirsa said nothing, so Ela seemed to take that as a sign to continue. “Surely you understand how honored I am to be marrying Baranor, given the prestige of your noble family. Your son is a fine man, and I know we can make you proud. All I ask is for your forgiveness—”

Kirsa grunted. “Well, I did want him to wed better,” she admitted. “He’s gone and ruined that now.”

“I know how you must feel,” said Ela. “After all, being a Taiyo’s niece, you only want the best for Baranor. I know I shall never be that good, but I can try. As my parents’ only child, I bring our land as my dowry upon inheritance. And if there is anything I can do to be a better daughter, you know you need only ask.”

Nikka’s mind reeled at hearing her friend speak this way. She felt sick. Ela had played every card—including Kirsa’s relation to Waru’s ruling monarch, however disinherited she may have been. Was this really the playmate she’d grown up with?

“I brought this for you,” Ela added, “as a token of my sincerity.” There was a sound of metal on wood, which Nikka knew to be the pie. “Please forgive me, Kirsa. I want to be the best that I can for you and your son.”

“Mm,” muttered Kirsa. She sighed. “I believe you, Ela, and you’ve my forgiveness. I’m certain the secrecy was Corin’s idea, anyway. He doesn’t trust that I can make these decisions, too.”

“Well, you know men,” Ela quipped. “Always wanting the final say.”

Kirsa laughed. “All too true, my dear, and good that you know that now. You’ll be a better woman for it. Ah, would that I had two daughters as devoted as you! I’d be the luckiest mother alive.”

“Nikka’s too headstrong.” her friend agreed. “I imagine she needs more time to accept her fate. Until then,” said the girl, “You’ll have me, and I will try my best.”

“I know it.”

“And if you’ve need of me—”

“You have my word, Ela,” Kirsa assured her. “I shall ask it.”

Nikka hid around the front of the house, waiting until Ela made it to the roadway to approach. “What’s wrong with you?” she hissed.

Ela jumped. “Nikka! Forgive me, I didn’t hear you coming. Is everything all right?”

“Of course not! I heard what you told my mother. What kind of friend says those things? Who plays herself up like that?”

Laughing, Ela shook her head. “No, no, you misunderstand. I—”

“Excuse me? Exactly what was there to misunderstand?”

“Nikka,” she said more firmly, “Listen to me. You know how difficult Kirsa is. We all do. If she’s going to accept me, she has to think she has my full support.”

“By slandering me?” she asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“If that’s what it takes.” Ela crossed her arms. “Really, Nikka, you know I don’t mean it. Your mother was a lady. She likes having subjects to rule. Since I’m going to be one of those, she and I may as well be on good terms.” 

Nikka shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said. “You, of all people—”

Ela snorted. “Give it a rest, Nikka. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Yes it does! I’m engaged to Mevik now because of it!”

“Maybe Kirsa’s right,” Ela huffed. “You need to grow up.” Without another word, she stalked off.

Nikka watched her go. “No,” she murmured, an idea already forming in her mind. “Not if it means becoming you.”

*          *          *

Alex and Pam arrived an hour later, after Raya had showered and dressed. Alex hugged her when she let them in; once she and her mother had been shown around the apartment, the two girls retreated to Raya’s room. 

“It’s a nice place, at least,” Alex pointed out. “It’s bigger than the old one, and it’s got a good view.”

Raya shrugged. “I still wish I was back in New West with you.” Looking around the room, she thought of something. “Alex, do you ever have weird dreams?”

“Not really,” she said. “Why?”

“I dunno. I had this one last night, and it feels like I’ve dreamed it before. What do you suppose blue fire means?”

Alex hesitated, running a hand through her close-cropped copper hair. “Er—”

The phone interrupted them. Poking her head into the hallway, Raya listened as Dara answered, then took the cordless from her aunt, returning to her room. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Who?”

“Shaundra.”

“Oh. You sound different on the phone.”

“Yeah, everyone says that. So, what time do you want to go?”

“Huh?”

“I was going to show you around town today, remember?”

Raya winced. “Right, I forgot. Umm, is it all right if my friend comes?”

“Sure. So does noon sound okay? We can grab lunch at the mall. There’s a soup place that’s good.”

She checked her watch. Half an hour from now. “Okay.”

“I’ll come meet you outside your apartment. See you then.” Shaundra hung up.

“Who was that?” asked Alex.

She shrugged. “Some girl from school. She wants me to see Lynn Valley.”

“Might as well,” said Alex.  “Give us something to do.”

Raya slipped back into the living room to replace the phone, but stopped halfway down the hall. Nari, her aunt’s cat, emerged from Dara’s room, and twined about her feet. Raya knelt, stroking her brown fur. Hearing voices, she froze in place. Pam and Dara were talking.

“I’m going there today,” Alex’s mother was saying. Raya heard the clink of a teaspoon; the women were at the table, drinking Samiran Blue. “What do I say to her? Rissa trusts me, Kendara. I feel awful keeping it from her.”

“My name here is Dara,” her aunt said quietly. “And you’ll say nothing. I’ve arranged for things to fall into place on their own. I’ll take the blame for it when they do.”

“They’re so close,” sighed Pam. “It’s just not right.”

“It’s still dangerous,” Dara told her. “We have to be careful. I won’t lose seven years of work to simple carelessness.”

There was a silence between the women then, and Raya tiptoed back to her door. Nari fled back into Dara’s room as the girl, walking more loudly this time, put the phone on its charger. “We’re going out for awhile,” she told her aunt, pretending she’d heard nothing. “Shaundra’s showing us the town.”

“The girl from Gifted Class? All right.” Fetching her purse, Dara handed Raya a twenty. “Have fun.”

She nodded, but inside, she felt an odd twinge. For the first time that she could remember, Raya felt as if there was something truly wrong with her life.

*          *          *

Miko found Nikka in her room, furiously packing a bag. I can hear you from your uncle’s, he told her.

            “Don’t talk to me,” she said. “Cats don’t talk.”

            Most don’t, he agreed. But I am a familiar, and therefore do.

            “Who’s your Elei, then?” she scoffed. “Jais already has Pasha. He can’t have two.”

            Well, if you can’t figure that one out… he left the thought unfinished, obviously amused. What are you doing?

            “I’m leaving,” she told him. “I won’t marry Mevik and I refuse to put up with any more of Mother’s rotten ideas! I’ll be an artist,” she explained, excited at the very thought. “I’ll change my name. My paintings will grace the halls of the Taiyo—”

            Very well, said Miko. Without explaining himself, he left.

            Nikka continued packing. There, one satchel for clothing, another for the practical things. She stuffed her meager collection of coins in a side-pocket, and snuck downstairs to steal some food. Kirsa was resting on the couch in the parlor, and Nikka was supposed to be watching the soup. She gave it a half-hearted stir as she passed, headed for the pantry.

            “An excellent time to be running away,” a voice said from behind.

            Startled, she turned around to see her uncle.

Jais leaned casually in the doorway, his tone as easy as his manner. “You choose your season well,” he explained. “The harvest is in, the cupboards are well-stocked. The food won’t be missed until long after you are. And if you head south, you’ll avoid the worst of the winter rains.”

Nikka’s jaw dropped. “How—?”

“You forget,” he told her, wagging one finger. “Elei may speak with more than just their own familiars.”

“Miko,” she growled, understanding. “Why should I matter to him? I’m not an Elei.”

Jais shrugged. “Perhaps you should ask him that. Now would be as appropriate a time as any. Where’s your mother?”

“In the parlor,” she said. “I think she’s asleep.”

He strode to the doorway that led in that direction, and poked his head out. “Kirsa,” he called, “it’s Jais. I’ll need to borrow your daughter for a bit.” Ignoring his sister’s protests, he turned to Nikka. “Come with me.”

*          *          *

They went downstairs at five to twelve. Shaundra was already waiting, and waved when they came to the door. For a moment Raya wondered how she’d known where to go, but it had come up the first day of class. “Terrace Apartments?” She’d been excited hearing the very name. “That’s at the top of my street! We’re practically neighbours.”

Raya wasn’t nearly so thrilled.

“Hey, so you ready to go?” Shaundra said now.

“Yeah. This is Alex.”

“Hey,” she repeated, and took them through the apartment parking lot. “Everyone uses this shortcut,” she explained. A gap in the fence led to the back of the mall.

Raya nodded, unimpressed. She’d seen the route and where it led from her apartment window. She could have gone there on her own.

Shaundra showed them the little mall, taking them to all the stores. Raya tried to feign interest, but she was hard-pressed. New Westminster had the Quay, and if she wanted a real mall, she could always take the Skytrain to Metrotown. Compared to that, this place was nothing.

She didn’t pay much attention to what Shaundra said on the walk, partly because she was homesick, and partly out of boredom. Even with Alex right beside her, and perhaps because of it, she missed her old home. Mostly, however, Raya was preoccupied with the conversation she’d overheard, and she played it over in her head several times. When they sat down for lunch, she asked Alex, “Do you know anyone named Rissa?”

Alex blinked. Then she shrugged. “Um, I think she’s a friend of my mom’s,” she said.  “Why?”

“I heard them talking about her,” she explained. “Dara and Pam. And your mom called Aunt Dara ‘Kendara’. It sounded really weird.”

“Like they were plotting something?” asked Shaundra, eyes wide with curiosity.

“No ... just weird.” She looked down at her bowl of soup, distractedly stirring the noodles. She wouldn’t admit it, but the chubby girl was right. It had sounded that way.

“Oh well, I’m sure it was nothing,” said Alex, cheerfully. “You know adults. They’re always weird.” Turning to Shaundra, she said, “So there’s a library nearby?”

“Yeah, and it’s all brand new, this year. They just tore down the old one. This one’s got couches, and three floors, and tons of space—it’s just awesome,” she said. “I could take you there.”

“Actually, can we not?” Raya chewed her lip. “I think I just want to go for a walk.” Feeling restless, she stood. “Any good places around here?”

“Are you kidding? This is North Vancouver. There’s a trail every five seconds. I know, we can walk to Lynn Canyon and back. I’ll take you across the suspension bridge.”

“Sounds good,” she said, and Alex didn’t argue. They set out once they finished their soup.

“You’ll love it up there,” Shaundra said as they left the mall. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Raya nodded indulgently, happy to be walking at all. There was a frustration bubbling up in her mind, and she needed some time to think.

*          *          *

Jais lived on the edge of the Raki property closest to the village. “By now, Nikka, you should have figured out a few things.” In this way he began, once he’d seated her on a couch at his cottage. “You can’t have ignored what’s happened since your return.”

“How could I?” she asked. “If Bari’s to wed Ela, then it’s only natural that Mother wants me out. I just don’t see why it has to be now, or with Mevik, except that she’s determined to have me as the next Lady Damino—”

Her uncle waved his hand, shaking his head. “That is not—” he emphasized the word—”what I meant.” He sounded exasperated. “I’m referring to your powers.”

“Powers? Me?” Nikka laughed. “But Uncle, don’t be silly. Women don’t have magic.”

“Tell that to my Farish cousin,” he said wryly. “But that’s another matter, for the curse does not affect that world. Gor was sloppy about that, but then, few people think much of Faran.”

Nikka didn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but her questions kept her rooted to her seat. “Faran?” she asked. “Isn’t that a myth?”

“Hardly.” Though he didn’t seem to want to get sidetracked, he said, “You know how the Warki hate Elei, and yet there’s one born in our family every generation. That was my uncle’s path, as it was mine. When the old Master wished to send Elei to explore the other world, he was among those who volunteered. In the end, he stayed there, and took a Farish woman for his wife. She may not have known her powers until he taught her, but they were there. I met their daughter—my cousin—when she came here to be ordained.”

Nikka frowned. “But you just said women can’t have magic in Takara.”

He shrugged. “It’s true, the curse did dampen her powers some, but since her powers had already emerged, it could not stop her completely. In fact, it’s thought that her very visit, and that of her mother before her, weakened its hold on the land.

“And that’s where you come in,” he concluded.

“Me?” she exclaimed. “Why?”

“Because you’re an Elei, Nikka.”

“But—”

“You can’t deny it. I saw your outburst at the Social—”

“But—”

Really, Nikka, when will you get it through your head? Miko, seemingly out of nowhere, hopped onto the couch beside her. As your familiar, I must say it’s quite maddening that you ignore all the signs, especially when they’re handed to you.

“But I don’t understand,” she said finally. “I thought the curse was just a children’s tale.”

 “It’s been nearly five hundred years,” said Jais. “Many truths have been whittled to stories in that time. At least if it is told to children, the knowledge will be passed on.”

“So there really was an evil Elei?” She still didn’t believe him, yet she couldn’t help but ask.

“Evil’s a difficult word,” he cautioned. “But he was certainly mad. Gor was one of the First Elei, and an enemy of Lady Kaera, their leader, for almost as long as there has been magic on Takara.”

“But he cast the curse, right? He made it so women couldn’t be Elei.”

“Yes,” said Jais. “Only there’s a catch. A powerful woman caught him in the midst of his working, and used her own magic to change the spell. She bound it so that it would one day break, but in doing so, her magic became the key. Since that was swallowed by the curse, it’s been thought that eventually a time will come when one of her descendants will be born with that same power. Only then can the seal be broken.”

“If that’s true,” said Nikka, “then why do you think I have magic?”

Isn’t it obvious? Miko said, his green eyes meeting her blue. She’s your ancestress. You’re the one who must break the curse.

Nikka, who up to this point had been humoring both her uncle and the cat, stood. “This is ridiculous, Jais. I know I haven’t been very happy since I got back, but you don’t have to go teasing me with stories like this.” She moved to leave, but paused at the doorway. “And could you put Miko back to normal, please? It’s kind of unsettling, hearing him talk.”

That left them speechless. She could feel their stares as she left.

Jais hurtled after her and dragged her back to her seat. “Nikka, we’re serious!”

She laughed, and wrestled herself free. “A likely story! Uncle, I told you, I’m too big for tales like this.” Again she turned away.

“Why else do you think I’ve asked your mother to let me send you to school? We’re going to Samira Isle.”

“But—” She stopped as his words sank in. “You mean the school? For magic?”

“Yes. I told her that they’re considering taking female boarders to supplement their income. You’re to be part of the trial, so you can go for free. What she doesn’t know is that you’re a real student, and you’ll be learning how to use your powers.”

“What powers? I’ve still not seen any proof.”

“You blasted the barn doors, remember?”

Nikka recalled the scene with a shudder. She wanted to deny it, to tell Jais there must be some other reason, but something told her she’d be lying. “How did I do it? All I remember is being angry, and wanting to leave—”

“Strange things happen when you’re new to your powers,” her uncle explained. “They often manifest with strong emotion. When I was fifteen, I set fire to the Waru palace gardens.” He gave her a small grin. “I left home shortly after that.”

You know, added Miko, if you go, you won’t have to deal with Mevik.

“I could get out of my engagement?” If that was true …

            Dare she hope?

Jais chuckled. “Well, not anytime soon, but we could certainly delay it long enough. Once you’re gone a year or more, surely he’ll give up. If all goes as planned, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Nikka looked around her, then held her uncle’s gaze for a time. He didn’t seem to be lying, but she still couldn’t believe that he spoke the truth. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“Will you do as I ask, and learn to use your powers?”

“I don’t suppose I have much choice.” She shrugged. “So, tell me about this curse-breaking ancestress of ours.”

Miko and Jais exchanged a glance. “Very well, then.” Her uncle took a deep breath. “Her name,” he began, “was Kendara.”

Chapter Four

Shaundra stayed for supper. This had not been Raya’s decision, nor even her desire, but when Alex left with her mother late in the afternoon, Aunt Dara extended the invitation to Raya’s classmate. Shaundra wound up getting the same tour Alex had earlier.

Nari came to greet the visitor. “Aww!” Shaundra exclaimed, when the small cat prowled into the living room. “You have a kitten!”

“No, she’s full grown,” Raya tried to explain. “Nari’s a dwarf breed. That’s her adult size.”

“Ohh! That’s so cute!” She held out a hand to the cat, who sniffed, curious. “Where did you get her?”

“From another world,” said Raya’s aunt, “where all the cats are that small.”

“Dara!” Raya cried. “Quit teasing. She came from a breeder in Europe, I think. Isn’t that right, Dara?”

Wearing a half-smile, the woman shrugged, and offered the girls some tea. Accepting her cup gratefully, for her aunt seemed quite free with the Blue today, Raya rolled her eyes, and petted Nari absentmindedly when she hopped onto her lap. Tension melted from her as she stroked the cat’s soft fur; she still hadn’t made sense of what she’d overheard earlier. What little she had figured out didn’t make her feel any easier, nor did it make any sense.

Dara had mentioned “seven years”. Raya had lived with her aunt that long. But there was a reason for that: after the accident, she’d been told, when Raya’s parents were killed, she was adopted by her aunt. A relative of her mother’s, Dara was the only one able to take her in. The fact that it had been seven years ago couldn’t be anything more than a coincidence.

“So, Shaundra,” said Dara, “I hear you read a lot of Fantasy.”

The girl nodded, more than a little enthusiastic. “I love the stuff. One day I hope to write it.” 

“Do you really? Funny, I’ve wanted to do that myself. There’s a story I’ve had in my mind for centuries, it seems.”

Startled out of her thoughts, Raya raised a brow. Aunt Dara, write a book? She hadn’t mentioned it before now.

Shaundra’s face lit up. “Really? What’s it about?”

“Well, there’s this other world, you see, called Takara—”

“Oh, those ones,” Raya said, relieved. “You mean you made those up?”

Her aunt smiled. “You won’t hear them anywhere else on Earth.”

“So what’s it about?” Shaundra asked again.

“Supper will be ready soon,” said Dara. “Will the condensed version do?”

Shaundra grinned. “Only if you promise to tell me the full story when it’s done.”

“Very well, then.”

Dara went on to tell the tale Raya had heard so many times before, she had it memorized, yet she never bored of hearing it again. “A young girl,” her aunt began, “was orphaned at birth. Her father, a sorcerer, was executed for something he’d been tricked into doing, and her sorceress mother exiled for aiding in that same misdeed. This happened in Takara, but she, along with the others exiled for their parts in the crime, was sent to Earth. Each was separated from the others to prevent them from conspiring to return. To her misfortune, the sorceress found herself in England, at a time when many women were put on trial for witchcraft. Soon after her daughter was born, the sorceress was hanged.

“The girl grew up knowing nothing of her heritage, raised by peasants in a tiny English village. Yet this did not go on forever, for her mother had not been exiled alone. When she was nearly grown, a sorcerer came to her village in the guise of a minstrel. He had made it his task to find the others who had been exiled. The moment he saw the girl, he recognized her; she was the image of her mother and, though she did not know it, possessed her same magical powers. Knowing not what else he could do, he sent her to Takara, for these were tumultuous times and the infamous queen, Bloody Mary, had ascended the English throne.”

In Raya’s opinion, the story only got better after that. “Although the girl was at first bewildered by the strange land,” Dara continued, “she soon befriended others of her kind, and set out on a quest to find her mother’s family. She achieved this and more, for in her travels she gained the love of Kairon, the heir to the Master Sorcerer himself. She also learned to use her magic, the greatest legacy her parents had given her. Thus she was able to avenge them, for she eventually battled the evil sorcerer who tricked them into the crime that had earned them their deaths.

“Yet their fight meant more than that: she had come to prevent him from casting a curse on the land, one that would prevent women from ever wielding magic again. Though unable to stop it completely, she weakened the curse, and slew the man with the last of her power. She survived, robbed of her magic, but with the knowledge that the curse would one day end.”

Shaundra was enthralled. “That sounds awesome.”

“That’s not the end of it, of course,” Dara added, an odd note in her voice. “As I’ve said, the curse wanes over time. Eventually, one of her descendants is destined to break it, but until then, all she can do is hope. When she lost her powers, Takara’s immortal watchers made her one of their number, bestowing upon her some of their own magic so that she may wait for the right person to come.” With her usual wry grin, she added, “That would be Raya, of course.”

Raya scowled at her aunt. “Yeah, if it weren’t just a story,” she shot back. Dara winked in reply. 

“Have you started writing it yet?” asked Shaundra.

Dara shrugged. “In my head, mostly. There are a few problems I’m still working out.”

“Like what? It sounds fine to me.”

“You’d think so, but remember the girl’s husband, Kairon?”

“Right, the Master Sorcerer’s heir.”

“He had a sister much younger than him, Miara, who came to live with him and the girl, his wife, soon after they wed. Some time passed after the curse, and she grew into a beautiful young woman. All was well until the summer after she turned fifteen.”

Raya frowned. She’d never heard this part before.

“Miara disappeared one day, in the middle of the afternoon. She was never seen again.” When Shaundra made to say something, Aunt Dara put up a hand. “The strange thing is, when the woman searched the area with magic, she found traces of her own powers. And yet she knew she’d had nothing to do with the girl’s disappearance, for it had been she who had first missed Miara.”

“Wait a second,” said Shaundra, holding up a finger. “When she looked, do you mean she found her old magic, or the stuff the immortals gave her?”

“Oh.” Dara’s eyes widened in thought. “The new magic,” she decided.

“Okay, that would make more sense. Give me a second, I know I’ve read something like this before…” Shaundra put a hand to her head in thought, then smacked herself. “Oh, right! Are your magic-users capable of time travel?”

“I’m not sure. Is it important?”

“Kinda. You see, if it was her own magic she saw, but she hadn’t done anything, it means that it hadn’t happened yet. She’d have to reach back in time, or go back, to take Miara away with her. That’s the only thing I can think of that sounds plausible. But you have to be careful with time-travel,” she warned. “It can really give a reader a headache. This one’s okay, very straightforward, since you’re just bringing someone ahead and there’s no cycles or anything complicated like that. It’s the time loops that some writers try to involve, now those really mess things up.”

“So you’re saying I—er, my character should snatch Miara from the past and bring her into this day and age?”

“Yeah, exactly. But I don’t understand, how does it relate to the story?”

“Oh, it was just an idea I had.” Dara shrugged. “I liked Miara. You might say I wanted to know what happened to her.” The oven dinged in the kitchen, and she jumped up to check on the food. “Supper’s ready, girls.”

Raya and Shaundra took places at the table. “So it’s true, then, what the other writers say?” Shaundra wondered. “The characters take on a life of their own?”

“Yes, very much so. They’re quite real to me.”

Shaundra laughed. “Well, like I said, this sounds like an awesome story idea. Any idea what you’re going to name the main girl?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Dara spread her hands. “Perhaps I’ll just give her my name and leave it at that.”

*          *          *

Kirsa met them at the door to the house, cleaner but more irritable than she’d been earlier. “Go upstairs and get dressed, girl,” she said to Nikka. “Plans have changed.”

Jais, who’d escorted Nikka home after their discussion, raised an eyebrow. “Feeling better, sister dear?”

“Of course not,” she growled. “But I’ll make do. Go on, Nikka! Lord Damino expects us at the castle in an hour!”

Nikka scrambled up the steps to her room. Spoiling her mother’s cooking was one thing, but it wouldn’t do to keep the Lord of Daita waiting. Offending him could mean her family’s ruin. She stripped off her clothes near the door so she could hear the conversation.

“What’s the occasion?” asked Jais.

“We’re to discuss the terms of the marriage.”

“So soon?” he asked. “But what about Nikka’s schooling?”

“What does it matter? She’s got more important things, now.”

Still in her underclothes, Nikka poked her head out the door. “Mother, I’m going to school!”

“Not if it stops you from marrying Mevik, you won’t! Now get back in there!”

“No.”

“Nikka, get changed or so help me, I’ll—”

“Not unless you let me go to school.”

“Kirsa,” said Jais, “she does want to go. You know she’s not ready for marriage. A year with the Elei teachers, and Lady Sara to refine her, and you know she’ll be changed for the better.”

There was a silence, and Nikka stood in the doorway, not moving. Finally, sounding frustrated, Kirsa said, “If I let you go, will you promise to behave yourself tonight?”

Nikka thought about it. “Yes.”

“All right, then! Get dressed!”

“School?” Damino sat back in his seat. “This certainly changes things.”

Nikka tensed. Would the betrothal be off? Oh, please, she prayed.

She exchanged a glance with her uncle, who appeared to be thinking the same thing. Her entire family had been invited to supper, including Jais and Ela, but the lord paid little attention to anyone but Kirsa as they talked and ate.

Barrel-chested and tall, Damino resembled Ryle much more than Mevik, though his belly showed the consequence of fine living. Clearly, he supported the betrothal; Nikka was seated directly across from Mevik, who watched her adoringly, while the rest of his family—his three daughters, for Ryle had already gone to the school, and his wife had died some time ago—sat at the table’s other end. Until now, the talks had gone well—for Kirsa, at least.

“It’s a very prestigious school,” her mother explained. “And Nikka insists that she needs the learning, especially now.”

Nikka nodded, summoning the syrupy voice she used with Mevik. “If I did not go, I do not know if my duties would be properly fulfilled,” she told Damino, “begging your Lordship’s pardon. I could not forsake my destiny so.”

“Your destiny, yes,” the man murmured. “What a fitting word.”

“Father,” said Mevik, “It’s hardly a problem. Let her go. If she feels she can improve herself, then I say all the better. After all,” he added, sending an adoring smile Nikka’s way, “I only want the best for the woman I love.”

Nikka blushed and looked down, hiding her disgust.

“Besides, a year in the East will give her a more worldly outlook on life,” said Kirsa. “What could be better for such a worthy man as your son, milord, than a woman of sophistication?”

“The East?” said Damino. “Just where is this school?”

“Near Serale,” her mother explained. “Jais recommended it.”

Nikka’s uncle nodded. “She’ll have the very best teachers.”

“So far from here? And alone?” Damino frowned. “I could have one of my daughters join her, if you like.”

“Oh, that’s hardly necessary, milord.” Kirsa smiled. “Ela will be going, too.”  

Bari waited until the family had returned home to yell at Kirsa. “Are you out of your mind, Mother?” he demanded, slamming the door behind him. He was the last to come in. “What right do you have, sending her to the other side of Takara?”

“Bari, please,” Ela quietly protested. “I don’t mind, really.”

“See?” asked Kirsa. “You’re making an issue out of nothing.”

“Nothing?” Bari laughed. “Nothing? We’ve a wedding to plan—”

“Not until next summer—”

“And who says that we can even afford to send two girls to school, let alone one?”

“Because it will cost us nothing,” said Kirsa. “Ask your uncle.”

Jais, who until now had said nothing, nodded. “The offer was for Nikka, but I’m certain Ela will be welcome to join her, once I explain the circumstances.”

Bari ignored him. “It’s still wrong!” he cried. “I’m so tired of you forcing this—this sophistication on us, just because you were highborn!”

“Why, you ungrateful—”

Nikka watched on as they continued to argue. Not that my opinion matters, she thought. She didn’t want Ela coming, not after their fight, but then, she wanted one of Damino’s daughters with her even less. 

“Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed for you?” Kirsa demanded.

“Yes, dear,” Corin remarked. “You’ve made that clear.”

“Corin, that’s not what I meant.”

He shrugged. “It was implied.”

“Then you agree with me, right, Father?” asked Bari. “She can’t just do this to us. It’s not right.”

Corin said nothing.

Nikka, standing by the stairway, stole up to her room. She didn’t want to listen any longer.

What are you doing? asked Miko, who’d been asleep on her bed.

I’m not running away, don’t worry, she assured him, finding her sketchbook and stylus. She sat next to him, and scratched his ears. But I’d rather draw than listen to that argument.

Someone knocked on the door. “Nikka?” Her uncle poked his head in the door. She looked up. “Do you mind coming for a walk? I think we have to tell your brother the truth.”

Nikka sighed. “Is it the only way?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Still clutching her sketchbook, she followed him downstairs. Coming, Miko?

I have to, don’t I? The cat scampered to her side.

Bari and his mother were still fighting. “Kirsa,” Jais interjected, “Perhaps it would be better if I explained it to them.”

“Uncle Jais—” Bari began.

“No, Bari, I’m asking you to come with me. This is something  both you and Ela need to hear.” He turned to Kirsa. “May I borrow Nikka again?”

“She’s a what?”

Nikka didn’t look up as she sketched. Better that Jais says it, she thought.

“She’s an Elei,” Jais repeated. Amidst their protests, he proceeded to tell Bari and Ela what he’d told Nikka earlier that day. “That’s why she must go to the school.”

“Then why must Ela go?” asked Bari. “She’s not Elei.”

“Kirsa doesn’t know that Nikka has magic. She sees it as nothing more than a free education.”

Ela blushed. “It’s my fault. I told her that I would improve myself if she wished it. I suppose learning to read and write wasn’t enough.”

Nikka gripped her stylus tight, but said nothing.

“Don’t look at me like that, Bari,” Ela continued. “You know what she’s like. She doesn’t believe I’m good enough for you. At least if I do this, she’ll think better of me.”

“But why should that matter?” Nikka’s brother asked. “I couldn’t care if she likes you.”

“Because she’s just like a Taiya!” she cried. “She rules your home like it’s a nation itself. Bari, I’m too poor for her liking as it is. I can’t afford to have her hate me!”

A pang of guilt struck Nikka, but she remained silent. Kirsa was that bad; hadn’t she experienced it enough herself? She began to regret having argued with her friend at all.

“She’s right,” said Jais. “I’ll admit, I’m not happy about your mother’s interference, but at least if Ela goes, it will appease Kirsa.”

Bari sighed. “How long will they be gone?”

“At least a year. Possibly longer.”

“But what about our wedding? It was to be next summer.”

“We’ll figure something out by then,” Jais promised. “For all we know, by the time you’re to marry, Nikka may have already broken the curse.”

*          *          *

Monday morning, Raya found herself walking to school. Shaundra had made the invitation Saturday night, and Dara agreed. “I’ve got things to do,” she’d said. “You don’t really need a ride, do you? It’s not that far.” Not wanting to disappoint her aunt, Raya had accepted, and so when Shaundra buzzed her from outside, she slung her knapsack over one shoulder and headed downstairs.

“Hi,” she said, when Shaundra greeted her. Bombarded by the wind, she shivered. “Powers, it’s cold out.” She untied her jacket from around her waist and put it on.

“Yeah, wait until it starts raining,” said the shorter girl. “We’ll all be drowned.”

Raya rolled her eyes and started walking. “New Westminster’s not that far from here, you know. I have experienced Vancouver rain.”

Shaundra shook her head. “Not like this, you haven’t. North Vancouver rain’s even worse. The clouds hit the mountains hard, and we get the brunt of it. Sometimes twice as much.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” said Raya. “Powers, regular Vancouver rain’s bad enough.”

The other girl raised an eyebrow, looking up at her. “Why do you use that word?”

“Huh?”

“‘Powers’.”

“Oh.” Raya shrugged. “My aunt says it sometimes. I guess I picked it up from her.”

“Strange kind of swear word.”

“Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t make it up.” Annoyed, Raya quickened her pace.

“Hey, I never said it was bad. Just … different, that’s all. Actually,” Shaundra told her, hurrying to keep up, “it’s kinda cool.”

They stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal. “Whatever,” said Raya. “So do you always take this route?”

“Usually. There’s a trail ahead that people use as a shortcut.”

A horn honked. The light had changed, but the car at the front—a black one, its occupants a pair of businessmen—hadn’t yet moved. Raya spared the scene hardly more than a glance, following Shaundra across the street.

“So how long has your aunt been working on her story?”

“Oh, for ages,” said Raya. “As long as I’ve lived with her, that’s for sure. She used to tell it to me back when I was sick in bed, when I was still recovering from the crash.”

“Oh.” Shaundra’s mouth twisted, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. “Was that when you—”

“Yeah, my parents died.”

“That must have been awful.”

“Not really,” she said, somewhat sad. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“What, the accident?”

“No, all of it.” Shivering again, Raya pulled her zipper higher, forgoing fashion for the sake of comfort. “I don’t remember anything of my life from before then.”

Shaundra stopped, staring at her full on. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she said. “That’s so weird. Not anything?”

“Nothing at all.”

“But you’ve been to the cemetery, right? To visit their graves?”

Raya shook her head, and looked at the ground. “I don’t think my aunt wanted me to be hurt by it. I mean, if I’ve forgotten everything, it must have been pretty bad. I’m better off not remembering, you know?”

“Um, I guess so.” Shaundra lowered her voice. “Raya, don’t look now, but I think that car is following us.”

“What?” Unable to help herself, she darted a glance to the street. The black car she’d seen at the stoplight was pulled over on the other side. Sure enough, the men in suits were watching her, but when she stared back, they looked the other way.

I’ve seen them before, she realized. But where?

“Come on, the trail’s just ahead.” Shaundra grabbed her hand. “Don’t run, but let’s go.”

They sped up. At the next corner, Shaundra took her onto a small street that ended in a patch of forest. Once they reached the trees, they broke into a run.

Raya followed the red-haired girl down the path, which twisted alongside a stream. Neither stopped until the school tennis courts were in sight.

“All clear?” Shaundra asked, clutching her side. The girl, not that athletic, was panting.

“Yeah, I think we’re safe.” She took a deep breath. “Are you sure they were following us?”

Shaundra nodded. “They were parked by your apartment when I picked you up.”

Raya frowned. “But why? I don’t get it.”

“Beats me,” said Shaundra. “Maybe it has something to do with your aunt. You know, what you overheard on Saturday.”

It’s still dangerous. The words echoed in Raya’s mind. “No,” she said. “That’s absurd.” She gave a little laugh, though she knew how nervous she must sound. “There’s nothing special about me.”

The Elei, Peter thought at her, are a very special group of people.

Raya shot him a glare across the table. Don’t talk to me.

It was Wednesday, and Gifted Class had just begun. How had she forgotten about him?

Easily, really. She hadn’t wanted to think of it in the first place. And with everything else going on, she’d been well distracted.

Come on, Raya. You’ve got to listen to me. You’re an Elei, even if you won’t admit it.

Why don’t you just leave me alone?

Because, he said. I can’t. Not when it’s so obvious. He paused, and she thought she heard him sigh. You should come over to my house sometime. My mom could explain it to you.

Fat chance. Glancing at her aunt, who was speaking, she tried to ignore him.

She didn’t need this, not with everything else going on! Although she hadn’t seen the men in the black car since Monday morning, the event remained fresh in her mind. Shaundra still walked with her to school, but now they left through the back of her apartment and cut around the mall. She hadn’t seen much of her aunt, either; Dara had gone out for most of Sunday, and stayed late after school every night so far this week. According to Shaundra, whom Raya had overheard her aunt talk on the phone with more than once in the past few days, Dara was putting most of her energy into her story, but whatever the reason, Raya had been forced to fend for herself.

Okay. Peter grinned suddenly. Guess it’s up to me, then.

Narrowing her eyes, Raya gave him a suspicious stare. What are you plotting?

Nothing.

Good, she told him. So shut up already.

No. Silently, he laughed at her.

Powers, make up your mind, then!  

I’m going to—wait a second, what did you just say?

Stop this, please.

Peter’s eyes were wide. You said “powers”, didn’t you?

So?

Where’d you learn that?

She broke off eye contact, unable to bear his gaze. Instead, she looked again at her aunt.

You’re a strange one, Raya. He furrowed his brow. Sooner or later, I’ll get you figured out. And I promise you, until then, I’m going to use mindspeech every time we meet.

Five

Nikka breathed in, letting the magic come to her slowly. It was night; she sat up in bed, alone but for Miko. Her shutters and bedroom door were closed. As the blue fire coalesced in her palms, she exhaled.

Excellent, said Miko. Now set it afloat.

Breathing in again, she lifted her hands above her head, and willed the ball of light to move. Stirring, it gently floated to a handspan away. She settled her hands in her lap.

The light winked out.

Powers! she swore, scowling in the dark. Why won’t it just stay put?

You lost your concentration, Miko explained. Remember what Jais said: using magic requires you to think. You draw on two parts of your mind at once. Until you can do that automatically, you’ll have to keep a firm mental hold on the task.

How long will that take? I just want some light to draw by.  

Small things first, Nikka. You’ve had but a handful of lessons. Be proud that you can do this much.

Hmph, she thought. Seven days from now, she was to leave by portal for Samira Isle. Since the night they’d been to Lord Damino’s, she’d been training with her uncle. As far as Kirsa knew, he was preparing her for life at the school; what she didn’t need to know was how.

Her door creaked open, and candlelight flooded the room. Bari stood in the doorway, dressed in his night-clothes, but he looked as though he, too, had not yet slept.

“I figured you’d be up,” he teased, his voice low.

“Close the door,” Nikka whispered. “If Mother finds out why I’m really going to Samira, you know she’ll find a way to ruin it.”

Bari did as asked, and came over to sit on the edge of her bed. “This is a brave thing you’re doing, Nikka.”

“Nonsense,” she blushed. “I’m only doing it to get away from Mevik. If I have to learn magic and break a curse, then so be it. Anything’s better than marrying that gako-faced highborn.”

Her brother chuckled softly. “It’s still brave. I’m glad you got the magic, and not me. I’ll be happy if I never have to leave Tiria.”

“Good thing Mother was disowned, then,” said Nikka. “I’d hate to see how you’d handle being Taiyo.”

Bari grinned. “Hardly. Even if she hadn’t been, there’s a long line of cousins and uncles between me and the throne. Jais, too, if he weren’t an Elei.”

Nikka shrugged; she’d never paid much attention to her mother’s lessons on family history. Corin Raki was not a highborn; that was all that mattered. If any expectations were placed on her, they were Kirsa’s alone.

“Are you going to be all right?” asked Bari. “Samira’s so far away.”

She’ll be fine, Miko growled. I’ll be there. Nikka giggled, and repeated the cat’s words.

“Is that so?” he said. “Well, if a tiny thing like him can keep you safe, I don’t suppose I should worry.”

Tiny! Hah! If you had any idea… The thought dissolved into muttering, and Nikka didn’t try to understand.

Bari leaned over and hugged her. “Promise to take care of yourself.”

“I will,” she told him, and hugged back. “And Ela, too.”

“I’m glad,” he said, as he got up and headed for the door. “I care about you both.”

Back to work, said Miko, when the door had closed again. Better for you to learn as much as you can before you go.

I know, I know, she grumbled. Bad enough that I’m a girl. I can’t look stupid, can I?

That’s a harsh way of putting it.

But it’s true.

You need the other students to respect you, Miko insisted. You’re special.

Nikka bit her lip. I don’t want to be special.

She summoned another ball of light.

*          *          *

            She was falling. Down she went, down, deep into the earth, into another place and time. She was in the grey room again, but this time, she was dressed. The man in the white coat was back, for Raya only remembered him in dreams. Balding and thin, he towered over her as he hooked her small body to the machine.

“Go on,” he said. “Do it.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered. “You’re scaring me.”

“I said do it!” he yelled, and smacked her across the face.

Little Raya—though her name was not yet Raya, a part of her insisted—started bawling.

“Toms,” warned another man, shaking his head as he approached. “She’s a child. You can’t treat her the way you do the others.” He patted her head, and smiled. “There now, we won’t hurt you, sweetie. Will we, Toms? He’s sorry. Aren’t you, Toms?

“Yes, Mr. Neilly, sir,” he intoned. She didn’t believe him, and stuck out her tongue.

“But sweetie, we need you to behave,” said Neilly. “You don’t want to make things harder for us, do you? If you don’t help us, we can’t take you home.”

“I don’t want to help you!” she cried, flailing her arms about. “You’re mean!”

“Mr. Neilly, help me hold her—” Toms fought with her as she tried to wriggle free. He struck her face again, hard, and she stopped.

Neilly pushed her to the table as Toms ducked out of sight. The thin man reappeared a moment later, wielding a large needle.

“There, got it,” he exclaimed. “Keep her still.”

As Toms jammed the needle into her arm, Neilly shook his head and clacked his tongue. “Oh, sweetie, see what you’ve done? This would be so much easier if you’d just cooperate.”

She screamed until everything went black, and then she screamed some more. She was falling again, falling away from that place as fast as she’d come to it. Still she screamed, until arms closed around her.

“Sweetie, it’s okay,” said a soothing voice—Dara’s, she realized, and her cries softened to whimpers. “It was just a dream.” Her aunt pulled her close, and they rocked back and forth. “Just a dream.” 

Raya felt herself return slowly. Where had she gone? She couldn’t recall, but she remembered the fear. “Needle,” she repeated to her aunt, and realized she’d been saying it for some time. “Needle.”

“There’s no needles, sweetie. You’re safe here.”

Raya sniffed. She’d been crying. Why?

She looked around. She was in her bedroom in her aunt’s apartment. The blankets were twisted, and she was covered in sweat.

It was a dream, she agreed, though she wished she knew what she’d dreamed about.

She wiped her face on her pyjama top.”Why can’t I remember?”

“You will, one day,” promised her aunt.

But I want to know now, she thought, and frowned.

Dara stayed with her until she fell asleep. Raya didn’t dream again all night.

Peter was true to his word. Over the days that followed, Raya encountered the lanky boy in the strangest places: not only in the hallways during class-change, but also at the corner-store, the mall, and twice when she walked home with Shaundra. He even found her in the library, when Shaundra took her there the following Saturday. Each time, he had something to say to her, be it a remark about his “Elei” or a simple hello. The third time he approached her after school, a Tuesday, she halted, sensing him before he spoke.

I’m watching you, Raya, he teased.

She whirled around. He was headed toward them, his expression innocent. “Hey,” he said, nodding as he passed.

Jerk!

Now, now, don’t be rude. It’s unbecoming for an Elei. Waving, he sauntered off down the street.

Shaundra shook her head. “Is it just me, or does that guy have a crush on you?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I’ve seen more of him in the last two weeks than I have in the past three years.”

“What do you mean?”

“He moved here about four years ago,” she explained. “He was a new kid in my Grade Seven class, back in elementary school.”

“You know him?”  asked Raya.

“Not really. I know he came from California, that’s about it. Supposed to be a year below us, but I heard he skipped a grade.” She shrugged. “He’s weirder than anyone I know,” she said, “even you.”

“Hey, come on.”

“Yeah, Raya. That was a joke, get it?” She waited a moment, but Raya was silent. “Oh, you’re impossible.”

She shook her head, her attention elsewhere. “Shaundra, let’s get going.”

“What?”

“They’re back.” She nodded in the direction of the street.

Shaundra followed her gaze. “I see they got a paint job.” The car was green this time. “Wanna go to the mall?” she asked, her voice shrill.

“Sure,” said Raya, sounding hoarse. “I’d like that.”

“It’s going okay, I guess,” she said to Alex on the phone that night. “School is school. Pretty much the same.”

“You trying out for volleyball this year?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure I want to.”

            “What’s stopping you?” asked Alex.

            Raya played with her hair, glad that her friend wasn’t there to see her expression. How could she explain that she was scared to leave the house alone? “I don’t know if I feel like it.”

“But Raya, you love volleyball.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She took the cordless into her room, where she fell back against her bed. “Maybe I already asked you this, but what do you think blue fire means?

“I—”Alex paused, as if she was hesitating. “I don’t know. Why?”

“I’ve been having some weird dreams lately,” she said casually. “That’s all.”

She didn’t tell Alex that they had seemed so real they could have been memories, that she’d dreamed of the little boy twice now. There were some things she couldn’t even tell her best friend.

“Oh. Well, you probably shouldn’t worry about it so much,” Alex said. “Dreams never mean anything.”

“You think so?” Resting the phone beside her ear, she started playing with her hair again, braiding and unbraiding a small wisp of gold. Why did she get the feeling her friend was lying?

“Of course. Hey, you want to come over this weekend? Becca and Kris want to see a movie.”

“Maybe.” She thought of the two girls, friends from her old school. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since the move. “Can I get back to you?”

“Sure. Oh, Becca says to keep next June free. Taylor’s wrapping up his concert tour in Vancouver around then.”

Raya laughed, reminded of the girl’s crush on the singer, just as there was a beep on her phone. “All right. Hey, I’ve got someone on the other line. Can I call you back?”

“Sure. Later,” said Alex, and hung up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Raya.” It was Shaundra. “Is your aunt there? I wanted to ask her something.”

“Uh, no. She said she’d be out late tonight.”

“Dang. It’s about the story, that’s all. I’ve been helping her figure some things out. So, everything okay?”

“Yeah, no trouble here. What did you want to ask her? I might know. I’ve heard it enough.”

“Well,” said Shaundra, sighing, “it’s just about Miara. You know, the girl that vanished? I’m trying to figure out why she’s so keen on writing about that. Her story’s supposed to be about the woman finding the right descendant to break the curse.”

“Oh, that. Can’t help you there. The first time I heard that part of the story was when she told it to you.”

“Huh. Odd.” Shaundra sounded like she was frowning, deep in thought. “She’s called me a bunch of times, and it’s all she can talk about. She told me everything, you know, about how her magic system works. There’s this type of net spell, you see, and I suggested a modification of that—Raya, what I don’t get is why she doesn’t already have this figured out.”

“But she’s writing it,” said Raya. “I bet she comes up with new ideas all the time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t get it. If she’s making characters disappear like that, then she’s supposed to already know why. But she didn’t. And it doesn’t make sense.” Shaundra made another frustrated noise. “I mean yeesh, the way she talks, it’s almost like the whole thing actually happened to her.”

Raya laughed. “Come on, it’s just a story.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Shaundra. “But it sounds so real.”

*          *          *

            Since the idea had been presented to Dara, she’d been thinking, and there was much to think about; after careful deliberation and consideration, and lengthy consultation with Shaundra, she’d reached a decision, and that was to return to the place where it had happened, all those years ago.

            Kendara stepped out of the portal between the worlds. With a sound like a gust of wind, it closed behind her, and she took a deep breath.

It was time.

She looked around this patch of forest, halfway up Samira Isle’s Mount Etani. As always Kaera’s garden was a well-cared-for place, delicately beautiful and natural-seeming all at once. She was almost surprised not to find the woman tending the place, though she knew that as leader of the First Elei, the immortals who watched over Takara, Kaera couldn’t possibly be here very often. There was peace to keep, the Heir to instruct—

Kairon had loved to garden.

She tried to brush the thought aside, but it came back harder. Four hundred years had passed since his death, and yet it could have been yesterday that she’d held him last, it was so fresh in her mind. His black hair had gone white by then, his handsome face lined and spotted with age. She had never suffered so, though she’d cloaked herself in the illusion of such; the magic that kept her alive had also stopped her from aging.

Are we going to do this or not? Nari asked, startling her out of her thoughts. Moping won’t bring Miara back.

Kendara nodded. Let’s go, then. Glancing once more around the garden, she took a deep breath and started down the mountain path.

She came to the bottom of the island an hour later, emerging from the trees before the rear of the school. The Master still made his home in the building his predecessors had—it had been old even when Kendara had lived there—but it had been joined to everything else when the school was built.

There, on the lawn at the side—Miara had been watching the children, while Kendara was inside doing spellwork with Kaera. The new magic, that which put her among the First, was a different sort. She’d had to re-learn everything, train her body to accept the new power in place of the old. That had not been easy, and she’d been engrossed in her work—until her son’s wailing had brought her outside. Miara had vanished.

Now Kendara pictured Miara as she’d been: tall like any Elei, her hair a waist-length blue-black, the same shade as Kairon’s. Pale-skinned and freckled, she’d always had an air of grace about her, one she held even after she lost her magic. At sixteen, she’d just barely bloomed into a young woman, but what Kendara remembered most was the promise of everything Miara could have been.

And now she’ll get that chance, she thought, recalling her last meeting with Kaera. The curse would be broken soon. They’d argued at first, but Kendara won. Raya may not have been born in Takara, but she had the magic just as much as Nikka did. Both girls were equally strong candidates for breaking the curse. As for Miara—

Worry about where she fits into this once you’ve brought her forward! Nari scolded, hopping onto Kendara’s shoulder. Her claws dug into the woman’s silk blouse as she lashed her tail like a whip.

Very well, said Kendara. Let’s get to work.

Reaching into herself for strength, she took her powers into hand, marking the boundaries of a circle. Keeping Miara in mind as she set the spell, she walked the perimeter slowly to ensure her shield was strong. If this worked, she couldn’t risk anyone who might come upon her being drawn inside.

She stepped within the line of blue fire. Raising her arms, she gathered her powers to her. In the centre of the circle she breathed in deeply, and opened a portal.

The magic coursed through her. She arched back, feeling the power run through her body. Would she be left with nothing? Would that much be enough?

In the portal, a shape formed.

Kendara reached. Out of the swirling vortex came a girl, as slender and tall as she. Her hair was black and her skin was pale. When she had fully emerged, Kendara saw that she couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

Miara stared at her, wild-eyed, frightened. Then she fainted.

Six

Traveling by portal was confusing, Nikka decided. Though her uncle roused her to leave in the middle of the night, it was mid-morning on Samira Isle. She had but a few moments to look out the open windows—it was summer weather here—before the rest of her party arrived. When they had, Lady Sara, Master Garoni’s wife, took her to her room. Miko and Ela followed; Jais went to speak with the Master.

Like the dorms at the finishing school had been, this room had beds for four, and was sparsely furnished. The entire wing, she learned, was on the far side of the school, away from most of the daily bustle, and apart from the new furniture, it looked like it hadn’t been used in centuries. “Are we the only ones here?” Nikka asked, aware of the silence.

“For now, yes,” said Sara. “Others will come once you’ve broken the curse.”

Miko hopped onto the bed in the left-hand corner, and settled himself. Yes, he told Nikka, kneading the blanket before him. This should do.

Lady Sara let them unpack, then escorted Nikka to Garoni’s receiving room. She left with Ela in tow, and Nikka heard her explaining that there were more important things for the other girl to know.

She knocked, and her uncle answered the door. “Come in,” he said. “You’re just in time.”

Nikka followed Jais inside. She hadn’t known what to expect, but the room was different than she’d imagined. There was a desk in the corner, piled high with papers, but most of the space was occupied by three curved couches forming a ring around a small table. On one sat a portly man of middle age. Nikka knew at once that he must be the Master, for on another sat two women. The first, blonde and severe-looking, appeared to be about as old as Jais, and was oddly dressed. The second was young and dark-haired. When Nikka peered at her more closely, she stopped, stunned.

The girl looked exactly like her.

“Oh, good,” said the older woman. “You’re here.”

“Nikka, it’s okay,” said Jais. “Sit down.”

Still unnerved, she found her way to the empty couch. Her uncle patted her hand reassuringly.

“Welcome,” said Garoni, and introduced himself. “We’ve been looking forward to your arrival for some time, Nikka. The very future of Takara rests in your hands.”

“Well, maybe,” muttered the blonde. When the men looked at her, she said, “Sorry.”

“Nikka, this is Kendara,” said the Master. “As you know, she’s your ancestress, and a member of the First.”

Pale-faced, Nikka forced a smile. Jais had told her that Kendara was one of the First Elei, and therefore still living, but meeting the woman in person sent a chill down her spine. “Hi,” she managed to say.

            “And this young lady here is Miara,” Garoni continued. “She’s the sister of Kendara’s late husband.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Well, you see, Nikka,” began Jais, “it’s rather a long story—”

            “I’ve come from five hundred years ago,” Miara snarled. “Kendara brought me.” She crossed her arms. She didn’t look too happy about it.

“Mia was lost,” said Kendara. “I found her.”    

Miara scowled. “You mean you took me.”

“They arrived earlier,” said Master Garoni. “We’re, ah, still sorting some things out.”

Nikka wondered if she was the only one who saw the hurt in Kendara’s eyes. “Why do you look like me?” she asked the girl.

Jais and Garoni exchanged a glance. “Well, it’s like he said, Nikka,” explained her uncle. “We’re still sorting that out.”

Garoni nodded. “Even so, since Miara is here she will be joining your dorm. She used to have magic before the curse, and there is a good chance that she will get it back.”

“We’ve decided that it would be in everyone’s best interests if you pretended to be sisters,” said Jais. “Things happen for a reason, and Mia is family, after all.”

“And once you’ve broken the stupid curse, Kendara can send me home,” Miara declared. “I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.”

An awkward silence followed. Kendara broke it. “Mia,” she said, sounding as if she was on the verge of tears, “I can’t.”

“Why not? You brought me here.”

“Because you never went back. It didn’t happen that way. And even if I could send you home, I wouldn’t know how.”

“Then get someone else to do it!”

“Mia, you don’t understand. You’re here for good.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wish I were,” wept Kendara. “Believe me, Mia, we thought you were dead. But you can’t go back. There’s just no way.”

Nikka cringed. Miara looked as though she was about to hit someone. She knew she wasn’t the most likely target, but the girl frightened her nonetheless. Distantly, a part of her noted the first difference between them with a twinge of jealousy: Mia’s hair fell only to her waist.

Mia uncrossed her arms and glared at the floor. Her fists were clenched. “If you can’t help me, then stay away from me.”

“Mia, please—”

“Leave me alone, Kendara. You’ve already done enough.”

“But you don’t understand—”

“I understand completely!” she screamed, on her feet now. “Everyone I ever cared about is dead. And now I’m stuck here forever with stupid people that I don’t know, and it’s all your fault!”

Kendara, turned away from the girl. “If that’s how you feel.” Standing, she locked eyes with Jais and Garoni. “Please,” she said. “Take care of her.”

Without another word, Kendara vanished.

“Well,” Garoni said to the girls. “About your schooling…”

Mia sulked for the rest of the afternoon. Nikka ignored her, angry at how she’d treated Kendara, and paid full attention to Garoni’s words.

She was to attend the school for two years, possibly three. At first overjoyed to learn that her stay would be longer than she’d expected, Nikka soon changed her mind. Despite her best protests, she would have to learn ladylike behaviours; Lady Sara would teach the girls in their room twice a week, on their days off. “We need you to do this,” Jais pleaded at last. “For the greater good of the Elei.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You said this wasn’t a finishing school.”

“It’s not, Nikka,” Garoni assured her. “But when you break the curse, there will be many changes in Takara. People will want to meet you. It’s best if you’re able to handle them politely.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, giving in. “If I must. I’ve no doubt Mother will be pleased. Be sure to tell her when you go home tomorrow, Jais.”

Her uncle laughed. “I won’t be leaving anytime soon,” he said. “My old friend Garoni here has offered me a teaching position. I’ll be your Magic instructor.”

Uniforms awaited the girls in their dorm, as did Ela. She was folding Nikka’s clothing, and only looked up once. “Lady Sara’s sending dinner up soon,” she said. “We’re to eat breakfast with the other students starting tomorrow, but she said it would be better not to cause a fuss until then.”

Nikka nodded. “Where did you go with her?”

“Her office. She helps Master Garoni with paperwork, and supervises the school servants. I’m to assist her when you’re in your magic class—” Ela stopped. “Nikka, who’s she?”

Mia had taken an unoccupied bed, close to the door. She held her uniform at arm’s length. “Overcoats! Hmph. Whatever happened to the tunics?”

“This is what the boys wear,” said Ela. “Lady Sara says that being girls, we’re different enough.” She did a double take. “Powers, Nikka, she looks just like you! Who is she?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.

Ela shook her head. “I doubt that, after everything else I’ve heard. Who is she?”

Nikka told her. By the time she was finished, the blood had drained from Ela’s face.

“Well,” she said practically. “Better three of us than two, I suppose. So you’re to be sisters?”

“It’ll save us trouble.”

“Hmph,” Mia said again. She was wearing her uniform: white shirt, full black trousers, and a sleeveless blue overcoat that went down to her calves. “I preferred the skirts.” Whether she was ignoring them deliberately, or truly absorbed in the matter of clothing, Nikka couldn’t tell. “The school opened just after the curse happened, you know. Kairon let all the girls who would have been students stay here to learn other things, so they wouldn’t be without. I see they don’t do that anymore,” she added, her voice tinged with disgust.

Nikka shrugged. “As you may have noticed,” she told Ela, “she doesn’t really want to be here.”

Dinner came and went. Seeing that Mia had no night clothes, Nikka fished some things from her chest of drawers. “Here,” she said. “We’re the same size, so these ought to fit you.” She lay them on the bed next to her twin, who was staring at the wall, and turned to change herself.

The wad of clothing hurled toward Nikka so quickly that she didn’t have time to duck. “Keep it,” Mia yelled. “I don’t need your help.”

Nikka threw her arms up in disgust. “Fine,” she spat back. “Don’t say I didn’t try.” Catching Ela’s eye, she saw the girl was trying to hide a smile as she watched the two of them fight. “Don’t,” she warned.

“What?” asked Ela. “I didn’t say anything.”

Glaring at the other two girls, Nikka left their dorm. Under her breath she muttered, “Spoiled brat,” and slammed the door behind her.

Leaning against the stone wall in the corridor, she let herself slide down to the floor. If this was what attending the school for Elei would be like, she’d almost rather marry Mevik.

She looked down at her uniform, which she’d donned after supper. It wasn’t half as bad as Mia made it out to be. In fact, she rather liked it. Slit at the back for movement, the overcoat was lightweight and plain, the pale blue of summer skies. She stood up and spun around, and couldn’t help but grin in girlish delight when it spun with her, tails fluttering. She smoothed it out, and started to walk the length of the hall—

—And froze, staring at the boy who watched her from the double doors.

“Powers!” she yelled. “Are you spying on me?” She strode down the hall toward him, ready to yell some more.

For a moment, the boy didn’t move, as though he were frozen in shock. As she drew closer, Nikka saw that he wore spectacles. Then he turned, and she caught a glimpse of a short brown braid before he slammed the door behind him.

“Hey, wait!” Nikka followed, but stopped when she reached the doors. He was gone.

*          *          *

Raya was typing an assignment on the computer when Dara came home that night. When her aunt went straight to her room, Raya got up, curious.

It’s not your fault, she heard someone say. No one expected this.

“Aunt Dara?” called Raya. “Are you okay?”

No reply came. Nari, however, pawed open the door and came out, mewing. Hearing sniffling noises, Raya went inside.

Her aunt was sitting on the bed, and she was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair a mess, and she looked like she’d been crying for some time.

“Oh, Dara!” Raya exclaimed, and ran to her. “What happened?”

Dara hugged her back, sobbing into Raya’s pyjamas. She didn’t speak. Uncertain of what else she could do, Raya sat there with her, and let the woman cry herself to sleep.

*          *          *

 Nikka woke with a start sometime in the night. Disoriented at first, she thought she was in her dorm at finishing school. No, she was home—no, not there, either, she remembered at last. She was at the school for Elei, learning to use her magic.

“Kairon?” called a sleepy voice, and Nikka placed it as Mia’s. “Is that you? Kendara? Kai—” She made a choking sound. Then she began weeping, and Nikka felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl.

She must have remembered where she is, she realized. That must be awful.

Let her be, muttered Miko, from his spot by her ear. She just needs time to cope.

Nikka winced as Mia’s crying took on a more desperate tone. She curled herself tighter into the blankets, trying to ignore it. Nonetheless, she lay awake for a long time that night.

*          *          *

Gifted Class was cancelled the following afternoon. Shaundra walked Raya home as far as the mall, and for once neither Peter nor the men in suits were to be seen. Nonetheless, it was the thought of either stalker which prompted Raya to invite Shaundra to the volleyball tryouts.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” said the girl, as they entered the mall. “After all, what are friends for, if not to be bodyguards?” 

Raya laughed, though her stomach squirmed a bit at the word friend. “You really think it’s me they’re after?”

“I never saw them before I met you.”

“So?” said Raya. “Neither did I.”

“That you can remember,” Shaundra pointed out. “Who knows, maybe there are other reasons you lost your memory.”

“Shaun…”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

Raya looked away. “I think I’ll get my aunt some soup,” she said, nodding in the store’s direction.

“You okay if I leave you?”

“Shaun, it’s half a block away. I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” Shaundra teased. “Later.” She waved as she left.

Raya made it home without incident. She let herself in quietly, in case Dara was sleeping, and slipped into her room to drop off her knapsack.

“It’s your own damn fault, Kendara,” said a female voice. “There’s no reason for you to mope about like this.”

It came from her aunt’s bedroom. Raya sidled to the doorway, clutching the paper bag of soup as a ready excuse. “I never meant to hurt Miara,” Dara sobbed. “How was I to know? If I didn’t bring her forward, she’d have been lost forever. Now that I’ve done it, she hates me.”

Raya wrinkled her nose. Miara? Wasn’t that one of her aunt’s characters?

“She needs time to adjust, dear. Jais is right. Things happen for a reason. He couldn’t have put it better if I’d trained him myself.”

“What’s the reason, then?” Dara sniffed. “We don’t need another candidate.” 

“I don’t know. Powers, but she and Nikka might as well be twins. Perhaps—”

“Wait,” said Dara, and the other woman fell silent. “Raya,” she said, “there’s no need to hover.”

She went inside. Dara sat up in bed, still in her clothes from yesterday. She looked like she’d been crying again. “I brought you some soup.”

“Ah,” said the other woman, “so this is Raya.” She held out a hand.

Raya sized her up. The stranger looked to be about Dara’s age, with hair as long and as blonde as her own, though there was a particularly golden hue to it that both Raya and Dara lacked. She was not quite as tall, either, and her face was less pointed. Her blouse and pants were peculiar, but Raya could not place why. Their eyes locked, and Raya stared back, unafraid, though she had a feeling that the woman was someone to fear. “And you are?” she asked.

“Oh, forgive me, both of you,” said Dara, wiping her face. “This is Kaera, Raya. She’s a—a friend.”

Warily, Raya shook the woman’s hand. “Why did you call Dara ‘Kendara’?” she asked.

“That’s my full name, sweetie,” answered her aunt. “I prefer ‘Dara’, that’s all.”

Kaera chuckled. “It does sound more modern, doesn’t it?”

“How do you know each other?” Raya wondered, relaxed now.

The women exchanged a glance. “We studied together,” said Dara.

“Ages ago,” Kaera added.

“Come now, Raya, you don’t need to be bothering our guest with so many questions.” Dara climbed out of bed, and stretched. “Let me fix you both some tea.” She left for the kitchen.

Raya didn’t move. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Kaera?”

“Certainly.” She smiled. “Are you cooking?”

“I don’t really know how,” she confessed. “Aunt Dara’s better.”

“Kendara!” Kaera strode out after Dara, and Raya followed. “Do you mean to tell me you haven’t taught her how to cook?”

“Should I have?” asked Dara. “I figured that with everything else going on, it might be too much.”

“It’s all right, Dara,” Raya assured her. “I’m the one who chose to take Shop instead of Home Ec.” She spread her hands; it was true. When the high school counselors came to her Grade Seven class, making jewelry in Art Metal had sounded far more interesting than sewing and cooking. Shop was a prerequisite.

“You don’t understand, Raya,” said Kaera. “Your aunt’s the best cook I know. She met her husband that way—”

“Kaera, please.” Dara looked like she was about to cry again.

Raya’s jaw dropped. “You’re married?”

“No longer. He died before you were born.”

Silence filled the room until Kaera spoke. “Raya,” she said, “Where’s that soup?”

Raya held it up.

“Why don’t we go get some more of that? Your aunt’s still not well. We shouldn’t trouble her.”

“Do you have any money, Kaera?” Dara asked.

“Don’t be foolish. Of course I do.”

“Canadian money?”

Scowling, Kaera pulled a wallet from her pants, and Raya’s aunt took it from her. Dara snorted as she rifled through it. “Euros, Japanese Yen … oh, they might take American.” She fetched her purse, and handed a few bills to Raya. “That should cover it.”

“I travel a great deal,” Kaera explained to Raya, who was staring. “Let’s go.”

Raya took her to the mall. “You’re a friend of Aunt Dara’s, right?”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve never met you.” 

“That you can remember,” Kaera added. “I tend to keep my visits short,” she explained. “You’ve just never been around when I’ve come to see her before.”

“Are you here for very long?”

“I’ll be leaving this evening. Are you always so full of questions?”

“Not usually. There’s just so much I didn’t know about Dara.”

Kaera laughed. “That’s true. I don’t suppose she’s wanted to burden you, what with everything you’ve been through.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your trauma, of course. When you made yourself forget.”

“I—” Raya stopped herself, puzzling over Kaera’s words. “Wha?”

“At any rate, I think Kendara wanted you to heal before she told you anything.”

Raya was silent. She didn’t understand; why would she want to forget? I was in a car crash, she thought. How could I have had any choice? She might not have worried that she couldn’t remember, but she had never thought—

They paused before the mall doors. Kaera took her hand, and an odd sensation passed through her. “Listen, Raya. You were a mess. I was there. It was better for you to forget everything.”

“But why?”

“Because you needed to protect yourself.” Kaera met Raya’s eyes full-on as she spoke.

“But I don’t know what you mean! From what?”

“Perhaps that’s a question you should be asking yourself,” Kaera answered, and her smile was cryptic. “I think you’ll find the answer when you need it most.”

*          *          *

The morning bell echoed through the school walls. Nikka climbed out of bed grudgingly, and only after repeated prodding from Miko. You don’t want to be late on your first day!

Nikka yawned and rubbed her eyes. Her uniform had been laid out on the spare bed the night before; she changed into it, still half asleep, and gathered up her writing materials. Ela was already dressed, and insisted on braiding Nikka’s hair; Mia still huddled in her blankets, facing the wall. “Mia, come on,” Nikka urged her. “We’ve got to get going.”

“No.”

Nikka scowled, too tired to be sympathetic. “Mia, don’t do this. It’s not our fault you’re here. Let’s go get breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Powers,” she swore. “Were you this spoiled five hundred years ago? I wonder how anyone put up with you.”

Throwing back the covers, Mia sat up in bed. “Don’t talk to me about that! You couldn’t begin to understand.”

“I think I understand well enough,” Nikka retorted. “You’re nothing but a spoiled highborn. Well, it’s no wonder Uncle Jais wants us to pretend we’re sisters. You’re exactly like my mother!”

Ela tied Nikka’s hair, finished. Nikka ignored the girl’s low chuckle.

Mia’s gaze darkened. “At least you still have a mother.”

“Hah!” She turned away from her twin, arms crossed. “You’re welcome to mine.” Fastening the buttons on her overcoat, she moved to the doorway. “I’m going to eat. Anyone coming?”

Miko ran to her side. Ela followed. Everyone watched Miara.

“Oooh …” She glared at them all. “Fine! I’ll come!” 

Nikka helped her sister with her uniform. Ela braided her hair. As a group, the girls headed downstairs to breakfast.

The dining hall was a room of tables. At one end sat the kitchen, where students lined up for their meals; to the side, low troughs had been set out for the cats. From the look of things, Nikka saw that they were not nearly as late as she’d thought. The lineup was long, and many other students were still arriving.

They joined the line. No one noticed them at first, but the whispers started soon enough, crescendoing to a loud babble even as the lineup continued to move. Finally one youth spoke to them outright: “Are you three really students?”

Unfortunately for him, he directed his question at Mia. “Do we look like students?” she countered. Mia’s polite expression was so innocent-seeming, Nikka didn’t know whether to laugh or fear for the boy’s life.

“Er, yes,” he said, sounding uneasy about his answer. “You do.”

Mia smiled again. “Then I suppose we must be!” she chirped.

“But you’re girls,” he protested. Around them, the chatter had died some; the other students listened intently.

Mia looked down at her chest, then at those of Nikka and Ela. “My goodness, you’re right!” she exclaimed. “How clever of you to notice.”

Laughter erupted, incensing the boy enough that he persisted. “But—but everyone knows, girls don’t have magic!”

“Really.” Mia reached out and patted him on the head. “Poor thing. Must be hard when ‘everyone’ is wrong.” She pointed to the pair of cooks doling out breakfast and gave him a gentle push. “It’s your turn.”

“But—but—”

“Don’t hold up the line, now. I’m hungry.”

Reluctantly, the boy accepted his plate, and the girls followed. The second cook, a large woman, winked at Nikka as she handed her a plate. “Good luck,” she whispered.

“Um, thank you,” Nikka replied, but the woman was already busy with Ela. When the other girl had her food, they went in search of a table.

“Nikka!” cried a voice from the crowd. “Nikka, over here!”

She scanned the herd of boys for the one who’d called her name. There, in the far corner, a tall student waved his arms. Nikka squinted to make out his features. “Powers, Ela!” she exclaimed. “It’s Ryle!” She hurried over as fast as she could without spilling her food. Warily, the other two followed.

She set down her plate and hugged him. “Ryle!” she said as he released her. She took a seat. “I forgot you were here!”

Ryle laughed. “Me? Better to ask, what are you doing here?” Glancing at Mia, he asked, “And who’s this fine young lady? Ela I recognize, but Nikka, I didn’t know you had a twin.”

Nikka reddened. “This is Mia. She’s, er, sort of a cousin, but we’re just going to tell everyone we’re sisters.”

“I can see why. Well, Mistress Mia, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed.

Mia blushed and ducked her head.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” Ryle said, when everyone was seated.

Nikka shrugged. “The same reason you are.”

“How is that possible, though? The curse—”

“I know,” she said. “I’m supposed to break it.”

“She’s a descendant of Kendara,” said a boy a few seats away, the only other student daring enough to share a table with them. He read a book as he ate, and didn’t look up when he spoke.

“That’s my roommate, Jayme,” said Ryle, jerking his head in that direction. “He doesn’t like to talk much.”

Nikka glanced at the boy. He was brown-haired and lean, and he wore spectacles. He—

“Hey,” she said crossly. “You’re the one who was spying on us last night!”

Now he raised his head. “I wasn’t spying.”

“Yes you were. I saw you.”

“But I wasn’t spying!” He closed his book. “Your wing was quiet and abandoned before you arrived. I went there to read.”

“A likely story.”

“It’s true,” said Ryle. “I can vouch for him.”

Nikka glanced between the two of them. When Ryle nodded his assurance, she looked away. “You know,” she sighed, “I could care less about my powers. As long as it puts off the marriage, I’ll do whatever the Master asks.”

Ryle’s eyes widened. “Powers, I forgot!” He grimaced. “Nikka, you can’t marry Mevik.”

“Can’t? Ryle, are you crazy? I don’t want to marry him.”

“That’s not what I mean. Before I left home, I found out—”

The morning bell chimed again. Ryle swore.

“I’ll tell you at lunch,” he said, visibly irritated. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

*          *          *

Raya took a deep breath as she lined up her serve. Pulling back her hand, she let out a puff of air, then sent the volleyball sailing towards the other side of the court. Satisfied with its trajectory, she smiled—

—Until it stopped in midair and fell straight to the ground, just on her side of the net.

Raya looked up at the bleachers. From the top row, Peter waved.

She glared at him, fuming. One of these days, she thought, I’m going to kill you.

Peter laughed in her head. I’d like to see you try.

Can you leave me alone for just this once? I want to make the team!

Okay, he said. But on one condition.

Anything, just stop interfering!

Come out for coffee with me. Not a date—just come with me so we can talk. We can go after Gifted Class next week.

Someone tossed the ball back to her; she had four more chances to demonstrate her serve. She started to make her second, then stopped. Okay, she agreed. Coffee.

The ball flew over the net, landing neatly on the other side. The next three did the same. When Raya returned to the sidelines, she sat beside a girl she recognized from her math class.

“Hey, you’re pretty good,” said the girl, pushing back a wisp of pale hair. “It’s Riley, isn’t it? Your mom’s a teacher here.”

“Raya,” she corrected. “And she’s my aunt.”

“Oh, you’d never think. You look so alike.” The girl shrugged it off, smiling. “I’m Halley,” she said, and Raya shook her proffered hand. “So, have you played before, or are you just a natural?”

“No, I’ve played. I was on the team last year at my old school.”

“Nice,” said Halley. “Well, keep it up and you’ll impress Coach Hamlin. We sure could use someone like you.”

Raya practically skipped home, she was so excited. Shaundra had to hurry to keep up. “Slow down, she puffed. “I know you’re happy you made the team, but I’m getting an ache in my side.”

Raya rolled her eyes. “You should get more exercise,” she said. “What with all the creepy men we have to run away from, I thought you’d be used to this by now.”

“I wish,” Shaundra muttered, as they reached the mall. “God knows, I’m fat enough.”

“Hardly.” Raya frowned. “Being thin doesn’t mean being in shape, you know. I’ve seen skinnier people than you in worse condition.”

“Mm,” said Shaundra. They passed out the mall’s rear doors. “I guess so.”

“You look fine. Honest.”

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced. “See you tomorrow.” 

Shaundra left. Raya made for the back entrance to the apartments, but stopped dead in her tracks halfway there.

The men in suits were waiting for her.

“Jennifer, hello,” said the bigger one, on the right. He took a step forward. “It’s been a long time.”

“Who—” she began, then paused as she felt a barrier give way inside her mind. “What do you want?”

It was hazy, still, but these men were familiar.

“We’ve come for you,” said the thin one. “That much should be obvious.” 

            Raya stared at them, only starting to comprehend, and the floodgates of her memory opened wide. Bingo, she thought, more relieved than frightened. I remember you.

Chapter Seven

Nikka followed Ryle out of the dining hall, setting her plate in the dish bin after him. “Tell me on the way,” she said.

“We don’t have time. We’ve got to get to class.” He glanced at the girls. “You are novices, aren’t you?”

“That’s what Uncle Jais said.”

“Right. Follow us, then.”

They trailed behind the young men, Nikka at the fore. Ancient paintings decorated the stone hallways; her fingers twitched in anticipation, but she had left her sketchbook back in the dorm. Narrow glass windows lit the corridor at intervals, revealing the sunshine outside.

“The semester began two weeks ago,” Jayme said to her, as they walked. “How are you going to catch up?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, still feeling awkward. “The Master only said it was important that I’m here.”

He nodded as though he agreed with Oniro. “Are you really going to break the curse?”

Nikka shrugged. “So I’ve been told.”

“Well, you are a descendant of Kendara, aren’t you?” 

“How do you know that?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Books.” At Nikka’s incredulous expression, he said, “They talk about you. History books, mostly. It’s all in the library, see for yourself.”

They turned into a classroom. A map of Takara covered the entire wall opposite the windows. This was the room for World Studies, where she was to learn History and Geography. Though there were tables for perhaps fifty students, only half of the seats were filled. The girls joined Jayme and Ryle in the empty row, at the back.

Twenty-five pairs of eyes marked their passage.

“Is this the whole class?” whispered Mia.

“All of the novices,” said Ryle.

Alarm crossed the girl’s face. “That’s impossible,” she said. “Even without the female students, this room should be full.”

“Enrollment’s dwindling,” Jayme quietly explained, darting a glance at Nikka. “I overheard Master Oniro talking. There have been fewer new Elei with each passing year for more than a decade. He thinks it’s got something to do with the curse.”

Nikka’s face fell. “Then it’s my fault?”

“No,” answered Jayme, “but I think it’s something you’re supposed to fix.”

A dark-robed Elei entered the room; from his bearing, Nikka knew him for the teacher. He scanned the class until his eyes rested on the girls, and nodded once.

“As you’ll recall,” he said, “we’ve been studying the origins of the Elei, and the Rite of Unification led by Taiyo Andem and Lady Kaera when magic was new. Try to remember where we left off until tomorrow’s class. For today’s lesson, Master Oniro has asked me to lecture on something else.

“Five hundred years ago, when Takara was still a realm united…”

Nikka listened intently as she heard the story of Gor’s curse once more. The teacher added details that Jais hadn’t mentioned: the plague that spread like fire through the land after the curse, as only a fourth of Takara’s healers remained; the eruption of civil war; the fracturing of Takara into its eight current nations. The flight of the Grythi, and their retreat into seclusion just years after the devastation began. She noticed Mia’s knuckles go white at the last, and wondered at it. Had such marvelous flying creatures as the Grythi truly existed?

“Certainly you’ve all heard that Gor’s seal upon Takara is one day fated to be broken.” He spread one hand in Nikka’s direction. “As you can see, that day fast approaches.”

The class turned to stare at the girls. Ela lowered her eyes; Mia scowled and looked at the ceiling.

Nikka stared back.  

*          *          *

            Arms rigid at her side, Raya glared at the men. “Why haven’t you taken me, then?” Neilly and Toms, she remembered. That’s who they are.

            Neilly smiled. “We can’t take risks now, Jennifer. Your escape was clean, and you still live with the one who rescued you.”

            “But you’ve been careless,” added Toms. “We wouldn’t have found you if you hadn’t moved so close to your family.”

            Raya’s eyes widened. Her gut turned somersaults as more memories struck her, hard. “Leave them out of this, she snapped. “They’re none of your concern.”

            “Oh, but they are,” said Neilly. “You’re not the only one with your…er, talents.”

            She felt her palms go numb, her fists were clenched so tight. Raya became aware of a blue fire flowing from her hands, surrounding her. It swirled menacingly. “Get out of here.”

            Neilly raised his hands in surrender. He backed away. “We’re going now, don’t worry.” At a distance, he added, “But we’ll be back.”

            “Really?” Raya raised a flaming blue fist.

Neilly grinned even as he and his partner continued their retreat. “Oh, yes,” he called. “This is your warning, Jennifer. We’re watching you all.”

When the agents left, Raya collapsed to the ground, crying. The blue fire, no longer needed, died away, but the memories were flooding back to her even faster now. The magic was inside her. She could draw on the power within at will, and it would respond to her commands.  

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “I saw everything,” Shaundra murmured. “Are you okay?”

Raya looked up. “I remember,” she whispered. “I remember it all.”

Shaundra helped her up, and put an arm around her. Accepting her hug, Raya wept into the girl’s jacket.

“Want to go inside?”

Raya nodded, choking back more tears.

They were alone at the apartment. A note from Dara was clipped to the fridge. “Gone out,” it read. “Back later.”

The girls sat on the couch. Shaundra got up again, and asked, “Do you want somethinig to drink?”

“Yeah.” Sniffling, she said, “Tea.”

The red-haired girl rifled through the cupboards. “There’s like ten different flavours here. What kind?”

“The wooden box on the top shelf. Here, I’ll show you.” Joining Shaundra, she found the Samiran Blue easily, but when she set it on the counter, the swirls that decorated the box suddenly stood out.

They were words.

Harvested from the shores of Samira Isle, they read, home of the Master Elei.

“This one?” asked Shaundra. “You—hey, what’s wrong?”

Raya shook her head. The words remained. “Yes,” she said. “Make it.”

Shaundra opened the box. “Oh … it’s loose. Um, how do I, uh …”

Raya rolled her eyes and found the tea-ball in a drawer. She spooned leaves into its bottom half, then screwed it shut and dropped it in the teapot. Shaundra, who at least knew how to use an electric kettle, poured boiling water over top. When the tea had steeped long enough, Raya poured mugs for the both of them, and they sat back on the couch.

“Why did they call you ‘Jennifer’?” Shaundra asked, when Raya was silent.

She took a deep breath. “It’s my name,” she said. “The one my parents gave me.”

“Then how—”

“Dara isn’t my aunt. I don’t know who she is, but she named me ‘Raya’ when I lost my memory, probably to protect me.”

“Huh,” said Shaundra. “You look so much alike.”

Raya ignored that, and continued. “My real name is Jennifer Brides. I used to live in California, with my family.”

“Until the—wait. There was no car crash, was there?”

“No. I was kidnapped.”

“By Dara?”

She shook her head. “You know how on TV they’ve got shows where the U.S. Government has secret labs and scientists, and they do a lot of things that no one knows about?”

“Yeah.” Shaundra laughed. “Alien experiments and all that.”

Raya shrugged. “I couldn’t say. But they took me.” She held out a hand, and concentrated. A ball of blue fire gathered in her palm. “I have magic.”

“Cool,” said Shaundra, then blushed. “Um—sorry. Yeah, I saw it before.”

“I don’t know much about it, but I remember little things, like this.” She smiled wistfully. “My brother … I think he had it, too. We played together—”

This is our secret. The words echoed in her mind.

Raya brushed the dream aside, recognizing that it, too, had been a memory. “I don’t know how they found out about me, but they took me all the same,” she said. “I was nine.”

“Then how did you get here?”

“Dara rescued me,” she explained. “She’s got magic, too. I think we left the States to hide from the government.”

“So did your family leave, too? Those agents said that they were close.”

Raya nodded. “They must have, if—” She stopped, and looked at Shaundra in horror. “Peter,” she whispered. “Peter.”

*          *          *

Midday passed with Ryle’s silence. After the morning classes, some students seemed curious to meet the girls, and packed their table at noon. The classes had not involved displays of magic—World Studies had been followed by Law and Ethics, after which came Language and Debate—yet the girls had gained their peers’ interest nonetheless. Ryle refused to discuss his news before the others.

“Later,” he muttered. “When we’re alone.”

Nikka threw her hands up in frustration. Honestly, she thought. I wish he’d just tell me what’s wrong.

Magic class came next. Without her powers, Mia refused to attend; when Ela left to help Lady Sara, she followed. Miko, however, who had vanished for the morning, reappeared, and trotted in front of Nikka, Jayme and Ryle as they headed for the class. Nikka gripped Ryle’s hand, nervous.

“You shouldn’t worry,” he told her. “So you’ve got magic. So does everyone else at the school. You’re just a student, Nikka, like us.”

She beamed at him, grateful.

The class was unlike any other she’d yet experienced. Jais was already there when they arrived, sorting papers at his desk while Pasha, his familiar, watched him intently. He didn’t acknowledge Nikka’s presence, and a  part of her relaxed; something told her it would be better if their relation was not made public. When Ryle made to say something, she elbowed him and shook her head.

The tables in this room were arranged in a semi-circle, with a wide open space in the centre of the room. Shelves behind the tables were lined with pillows, where a few cats already lounged. Ryle led them to a spot at the side, and Miko climbed out of Nikka’s pocket, leaping from her shoulder to a cushion behind them. Nikka found herself next to Jayme; she smiled at him, but she could think of nothing to say.

A tall young man a few seats away turned to her. “Where are your friends?” he sneered. “Don’t they have magic, too?”

Nikka glanced at him. Brown-haired and hazel-eyed, he didn’t seem to stand out from the other students, but there was something about him that made her uncomfortable nonetheless. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said, and turned away, only to find herself looking at Jayme again. She blushed, and stared at the table.

“I could help you catch up with your classes,” he told her. “Er, if you want.”

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it.

“All right, let’s get started,” said Jais. “I’ll wager you’re all wondering where Orin is, and who I am. Orin’s chosen to work in the field, but was gracious enough to remain teaching until I could get here. I am Jais va Kina, your new magic instructor.

“Today we won’t do much, since I’d like to get to know your names and faces. I understand from Orin that you’d finished breathing exercises and were working with lightplay. I’d like to see a demonstration from each of you, please.”

Nikka relaxed, a little. Miko had made her practice that until she had almost mastered it.

She realized immediately that they would stare at her. That much, she knew, was a given. But as Jais called out names from a piece of parchment, it dawned on her that when he reached hers, she would have to show her skills.

Don’t get scared now, Miko scolded. You’ve just as much right to be here as any of these boys do.

That’s not what I’m worried about. Miko, why did you make me practice so much? Half of them can barely summon their powers forth, let alone hold them for very long.

How was I to know they’d be in such a sorry state? It didn’t used to be this bad.

What do you mean?You’ve never been here. You’re hardly one to know.

Miko seemed to hesitate. Jais is a wealth of information, he told her. And I’ve had other tasks than tending to you.

Nikka would have pursued it, but just then, her name was called. Feeling the weight of thirty-odd stares, she shut her eyes and held out her hands. Deepening her breath, she summoned forth the light, and raised her hands. With this, her eyes flew open again, but her awareness was reduced to the shining blue fireball before her. Slowly, she took her hands away, allowing them to come to rest on the table. The ball hovered in the air until, with a wave of her hand, she dismissed it.

Her classmates’ stares were palpaple, now. She had proven what they had barely been able to accept, and was now met with disbelief. She noticed several open mouths as she nervously glanced around the room; even Ryle and Jayme watched her in fascination.

Then Jais said, “Well done,” as if she had been any other student, and called out the next name on his list.      

Nikka exhaled, suddenly aware that she’d been holding her breath.

*          *          *

“Like I told you, they moved up here about four years ago. Peter’s the quiet type, though, so he didn’t make many friends. He mostly keeps to himself.”

Raya stared out the window as Shaundra spoke. “Do you know where they live?” She scanned the hillside below. Somewhere, maybe within her sight, lived her family.

“Yeah, around the corner from my place, somewhere on Westlynn Drive. His mom—er, your mom—walks your little sister to school.”

She whipped her gaze back to Shaundra. “What?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen them sometimes, when I’m running late in the morning.”

“But I don’t have a sis—wait a sec, how old is she?”

“I dunno. About six or seven. I guess she came along after you left?”

She nodded, and hugged herself tightly; she felt like she could start crying again, at any moment. “Maybe they gave up on me.”

“No, Raya,” said Shaundra. “You don’t know that’s true. Besides, maybe your aunt had a hand in it.”

“She’s not my aunt.”

“Sorry. Dara, then.”

“No, Kendara. That’s her name.” She grimaced. “And you know what? I bet she did have something to do with it. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“So what are you going to do?” Shaundra asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I need to talk to someone who knows more. I see Peter on Wednesday, but—I can’t. I don’t want him to get hurt.” Or her, thought Raya, her mind on her sister. What does she look like? What’s her name? Does she even know I exist?

“I could help,” Shaundra suggested. “Dara—Kendara’s told me all about your magic.” When Raya looked at her in disbelief, she added,  “Well, unless her story’s made up.”

Raya fell back onto the couch, flummoxed. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Shaun. This is too much.”

“What, having magic?”

“No,” she said. “All of it. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t remembered a thing.”

Dara came home sometime after nine, looking much better than she had in the morning. She set her purse down on the table, and glanced around the kitchen in dismay. “You made noodles again?”

“I can’t cook anything else,” said Raya, in no mood to talk. “You never taught me how.”

“Raya, I’m sorry,” said Dara. “I spent the day with Kaera—”

“I thought she left.”

“Well, as it happens, she spent the night in Vancouver. She called after you went to school, and we wound up going out. I’m feeling better now,” she added.

“Where’d you go?”

“She showed me a few things she’s been working on,” said Dara. “It’s no matter. How were the tryouts?”

Raya managed to work up a half-smile. “I made the team.”

“That’s great, Raya! What days do you practice?”

“Tuesdays and Thursdays,” she said, “before school. Games are after school on Thursdays.”

“Would you like a ride in the mornings?” asked Dara. “I know how you like to sleep in.”

“Won’t you be busy writing?”

“Writing?”

“Your novel,” she said. “You know, the one about Takara?”

Dara smiled. “I’ve decided to take a break from that,” she said. “Things didn’t—weren’t going as I thought they would, so I’m going to stay away from Takara, for now.”

Raya kept both thoughts and emotions in check. If Peter could hear her through mindspeech, who knew if Dara had been listening, these past seven years? “I thought it was important to you.”

“It’s complicated, dear. So how about it?  Rides to volleyball practice?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Raya, feeling much less enthusiastic than she sounded. “That would be great.”

*          *          *

At supper, Nikka’s table was once again popular, but for a different reason: this time, it was only Nikka the boys wanted to talk to.

“Are you really the cursebreaker?”

“Are you going to fight Gor?”

“Will the Master make you his Heir?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” she told them all, and added, “I don’t think so,” to the last. “I’m here to learn magic, just like you,” she said, smiling up at Ryle. “That’s all that matters, right?”

The boys, mostly thirteen and fourteen in age, contented themselves with that answer. Nonetheless, there was awe in their eyes when they looked at Nikka, as if she should be revered. It made her uncomfortable, but nothing she said could dissuade them from such things.

“What happens after dinner?” she asked Ryle quietly, when the boys were talking amongst themselves.

“Nothing,” he said. “That’s slack time, for studies and such.”

“Come up to our dorm, then,” she suggested. “I need to know what’s going on.”

Ryle nodded, his expression grim. “All right. Where are you, again?”

“Jayme knows,” she said, grinning at the younger man. Jayme narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

The girls excused themselves from supper shortly after, and returned to their dorm. Minutes later, there was a knock at their door. Nikka answered. She ushered Ryle and Jayme inside, and Ryle shut the door.

Ela jumped to her feet, and opened it again.

“We need privacy!” Ryle exclaimed. “Close that, Ela.”

“It’s not decent,” she said.

“Decency be damned,” he snapped. “If you’re that worried, Ela,  you be our chaperon. I won’t have strangers hearing this.”

Nikka watched Ryle, worried. Things were never good when he started to sound like his father.

Ela made the young men sit on the spare bed, across from the girls. Satisfied, she fell silent.

“Will you tell us, now?” asked Nikka.

He glanced at Mia.  “Can she be trusted?”

She jerked her head toward Jayme. “Can he?”

He exhaled. “Yes,” he said. “What do you know about the va Kinas?”

“The Warki Royal Family? Nothing, really. Since my mother was disowned, I didn’t think it was necessary.”

Ryle frowned. “Not your fault. But Nikka, that’s got to change.”

“Why?” she asked. “And what’s this got to do with Mevik?”

“You haven’t heard, have you? About the deaths?”

She shook her head.

“Five are gone already, mostly from your mother’s family. All the deaths seem natural or accidental, but they’ve happened too quickly—” He stopped. “Let me start over.

“Someone is murdering the Warki royalty,” he said. “Whoever it is, they’re cunning, picking off those not as close to the throne to avoid suspicion. The Taiyo’s second grandson was killed in a brawl, though he was not known for violence. Your mother’s father was old, but when he died in his sleep, some say he was strangled. The other three deaths were just as strange. Your eldest cousin died in childbirth—”

“That’s not strange,” said Nikka. “It happens all the time.”

“The babe died three days later,” Ryle told her. “He was smothered.”

Nikka fell silent.

“Another of your cousins just recently passed, apprarently of illness. In truth, it was slow poison.” 

“But how do you know?” she asked. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Before I left Daita, I overheard my father speak with Mevik. He said he’s got plans for you, so I went through his papers when he was out. Nikka, he’s paying people to kill the Warki royalty. That’s how I know those deaths weren’t accidental. More will die, if nothing is done.”

“But Daita is in Tiria,” said Nikka, confused. “Waru’s on the other side of Takara. Why would he want them killed?”

“Don’t you get it?” Ryle exclaimed. “If he kills them all, there won’t be competition. That means he’ll get rid of your mother and Baranor, too. And Warki Law states that if a woman inherits the throne, her husband becomes Taiyo—”

Nikka paled. “Mevik,” she murmured.

Ryle nodded. “They want to make you Taiya.”

Chapter Eight

She met them at Metrotown, near the theatres. Tall, dark-haired Kris waved her over, and Becca, slightly shorter and more fair, nearly knocked her down with a hug. “Raya! God, it’s been ages!”

She laughed. “It’s only been a month or so.”

“That’s, like, forever,” Becca insisted. “Seriously, why didn’t you call?”

Raya grinned sheepishly. “I—kinda got overwhelmed with my new school and stuff.” Behind Becca, Alex approached. “Lots of stuff,” she added, narrowing her eyes.

“Hey,” said Alex.

Raya nodded, expressionless. The other two said “Hi.”

“Well, come on, let’s hit the food court,” said Becca. “I’m starving.”

Kris rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t we get our tickets, first?”

“Oh, come on,” said Alex. “It’s a chick flick, and a Saturday matinee. It’s not going to sell out.”

Kris shrugged. “Whatever.”

They headed to the food court. Becca and Kris got into the lineup of a burger vendor; Raya used this as a chance to pull Alex away. “I think I want sushi,” she said. “Wanna come with?”

Alex followed. Raya’s nerves were numb; now that the time had come, she was afraid. Breathing deeply, she quelled her fear. Halfway to the sushi place, she asked, “So, how’s Peter?”

Alex froze in her tracks. “What?”

“How’s Peter?” Raya repeated. “I figure if your mom’s friends with mine, then you’ve at least met my brother.”

“How—”

“I got my memory back, Alex,” she continued, voice breaking. “So tell me, do you think I still ought to trust you? You’ve only lied to me for the past seven years.”

“W-wait,” Alex stammered. “You don’t understand. Kendara—”

“Yes, Kendara,” she snapped. “I’m just dying to hear all about this woman who pretends she’s my aunt.”

“Raya, it’s complicated—”

“Hah! You think I don’t know?” Her face grew hot, and she fought tears. She hadn’t meant to get this upset.

“There’s a lot you don’t know. I’ll tell you, if you want, but can it wait until we’re alone? Becca and Kris aren’t exactly Elei, like us.”

Raya nodded, but she didn’t smile. That word again—Elei—confirmed her suspicions. There was a lot more going on than she’d ever imagined.

The sushi lineup was short; they purchased their food without talking, and met up at a table with Becca and Kris. “No, seriously, Becca was saying. “There’s a reason he’s single.”

“Yeah, he’s probably gay,” Kris shot back.

“Who?” asked Alex. “Or do I need to ask?”

Kris nodded, rolling her eyes. “Taylor. Who else?”

Becca pulled a rolled-up magazine from her purse. “No, really, it says in this article that he’s adopted.”

“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with whether or not he dates?”

 “He doesn’t have time for a girlfriend right now because of his music,” she insisted, pointing to the article. “And after he finishes his tour, in June, he wants to take a break and look for his mother. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Anything about Taylor’s amazing to you,” said Raya, doing her part to bring her friend out of her fandom.

“Yeah, Becca,” Kris added, “you’ve gotta remember, he’s human just like us.”

Are we human, Alex? Raya thought. The girl said nothing, and didn’t look up; Raya wondered if she’d even heard.

“What was he like when you met him, Raya?” Becca asked.

“I’ve told you a million times already, Bec. He wasn’t famous when Dara introduced us.” She shrugged. “He was a nice guy.”

“What’ll it be?”

Alex pursed her lips. “A medium mocha, please.”

“And you?”

“Tea,” said Raya. “Peppermint.”

The barrista raised an eyebrow. “What size cup?”

“Large,” she told him. “I think I’ll need it.”

She fumbled for change, but Alex had already put down a ten. “My treat,” she said nervously. “It’s the least I can do.”

They took their drinks to the back of the crowded store. Alex glanced around, as if looking for anyone suspicious, then did something strange. She formed a translucent ball of light in her hand, and it enlarged to envelop the two girls. “There, no one can hear us now.”

“Are you out of your mind?” asked Raya. “Using magic in public?”

“They can’t see it,” Alex told her. “You could, but only because you’re an Elei.” When Raya looked around, she realized it was true; no one near them had taken notice of the magical bubble.

She sighed, and turned back to Alex. “Okay. So, talk.”

“I don’t really know where to begin. How much do you know?”

“Takara. Is it real?”

“Yeah. Our grandfathers came from there. Our mothers’ dads, I mean.”

“So Kendara’s story—everything she told me really happened?”

Alex nodded. “Pretty much.” She, too, had heard the woman’s tale more than once.

“Then how do we have magic? What about the curse?”

“That’s only in Takara,” she explained. “No one there has ever thought much of Earth. It’s not held in very high regard, and even if it was, only Elei can initiate travel between the two. When he cast the curse, Gor didn’t even think to include it.”

“So you’re saying it was a fluke? The curse doesn’t affect Earth because the most powerful evil being in the universe is a moron?”

Alex burst out laughing. “That’s one way of putting it, yeah.”

Raya didn’t laugh. She was still feeling too incredulous to find anything funny.

“But anyway,” continued Alex, “Kendara’s the girl in her story.”

“So what does that have to do with me?”

“You know what Kendara’s task is, right?”

“I guess so. She ‘waits for her descendant,’ right?”

Alexandra’s smile vanished. “You don’t understand, do you.”

Raya shook her head.

“Oh, crap. I don’t know how to tell you this—”

“Just tell me, Alex.”

The girl looked uncomfortable. “You’re Kendara’s descendant. She wants you to break the curse.”

*          *          *

Nikka’s first off-day came two days later. The eight-day week was split in two, with every fourth day set aside for rest and private study. When she remarked on the amount of free time, for even her finishing school had taken but one rest day per week, Ryle told her, “Don’t be surprised. We novices need the time to rest, because using magic takes a lot out of us, at first. And I hear that we’re assigned more work as the year goes on.”

Now Nikka scowled as Lady Sara fitted her for a dress. Every off-day, she was to spend the mornings learning proper behavior, and today was her first lesson. Remembering her past experiences, she did not look forward to it.

A pin pricked her waist, and she nearly fell off her stool. “Don’t slouch,” said Sara. “It’s unladylike.”

“You sound like my mother,” Nikka told her.

“Of course,” she said. “I was her tutor before I married.”

“You’re from Waru?” Ela asked. She was busy fitting Mia, her own dress already done.

“No, I’m Serian by birth. Warkis pay the best wages. They’re also harsh; when your mother fled here with your father, Nikka, I felt it was in my best interests to join them.”

Thus began her first session with Lady Sara. Oniro’s wife would teach the girls many of the things Nikka failed to learn at finishing school: dancing, speech, grace. Other skills she deemed unnecessary for an Elei, such as sewing and embroidery, learning to play an instrument or sing. “There is one more thing,” Sara added, when she finished detailing their future lessons. “Oniro has asked me to instruct you in the names and ranks of Takara’s nobility, and how to behave in their presence. It is likely that you will meet many of them once you break the curse. In fact, they will want to meet you.”

“I’ll learn their names?” said Nikka.

“Yes. Ela, Mia, you two need not participate if you don’t wish to.”

The three girls exchanged glances. “Oh, but that would be lovely,” said Ela.

“Yes,” said Mia. “It sounds fascinationg. And if I’m to pretend to be Nikka’s sister, surely I would benefit from knowing the names of her Warki relatives.”

“We should start with the Warki royalty, Lady Sara,” Nikka added. “The way things have turned out, who knows how they will act?”

Sara looked at each of them, surprised. “Since you seem so eager, I don’t see why not.”

Nikka, Mia, and Ela exchanged glances again; this time, they were looks of relief.

Since Ryle’s revelation two nights before, they had discussed, quietly, what might be done to fix the situation, yet they could think of nothing. “I feel so helpless,” she complained to Ryle that evening, at supper. Their table was not packed as usual with younger boys, perhaps because Nikka had not performed any stunning displays of magic. “There’s no way to stop the deaths, and if I break it off with Mevik, your father might punish my family.”

“We don’t know we can’t stop them,” he told her. “I don’t know who the assassin is, or if there’s only one, but surely we could tell your uncle.”

“Would he want to help his family?” Ela wondered. “He’s awfully bitter.”

Nikka nodded, picking at her dinner. “His parents didn’t take his being an Elei very well.”

“But Nikka,” said Jayme, “this is murder we’re talking about. He wouldn’t let them all die, would he?” 

“No,” she said, “you’re right. We ought to tell him. Will they listen to him, I wonder?”

Ryle frowned. “They have to.”

“They disowned him, Ryle. I—” She paused. “Disowned,” she repeated. “That’s what happened to Mother. How could I be made Taiya? And I thought Elei can’t rule in Waru, either.”

“Father doesn’t know you’re Elei,” he reminded her. “And Mevik’s the one that matters. I don’t know how Father intends to get past your mother’s disinheritance, but I imagine he has a plan.”

“And we can’t have him knowing I’m an Elei until I break the curse,” she said. “So we can’t do a thing to stop him.”

“Yes we can,” said Ryle. “We tell Jais.”

Mia sighed loudly, and all heads turned toward her. She had been silent until now. “Things were so much easier in Takara,” she said, “when there was only one Taiyo to contend with.”

*          *          *

Raya ran.

For awhile, she tore through the mall, not able to think of what drove her so far and so fast. Dodging herds of shoppers, darting this way and that, she let the adrenaline and her long legs take over. Then, before she knew it, she was at the doors that led to the SkyTrain.

She collapsed on a bench just outside, and started to sob.

A rollerblader, one of the mall’s info-on-wheels employees, burst through the doors after her. “Ma’am?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”

Raya, still crying, said the first thing that came to mind. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” she wept.

“Aw, that sucks,” said the skater, patting her on the shoulder. “You were running pretty fast. Security thought you’d stolen something.”

Raya swore, and shoved her purse at him. “See for yourself,” she said, angry. “Does it look like I’ve stolen anything?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry—”

“Raya!”

Alex came through the doors and spotted her immediately. “Raya, are you okay? Why did you run?”

Snatching her purse back from the skater, Raya stood. “Oh, don’t start with me, Alex. Do you think you can just say stuff like that, and I’ll be okay with it?”

The skater glanced between the two girls, confused. “This is your boyfriend?” he asked Raya.

“You really don’t want to know,” she said.

Alex ignored their exchange. “Raya, let me explain.”

“No, Alex, let me explain. I am tired of all the plans everyone has for me. No one’s ever asked me if it’s okay!”

“But you—”

“No, she yelled. “I won’t have anything to do with this—this thing—” she avoided saying “my powers”, as the skater still watched on, awed— “and you can forget about me doing any of it. As far as I’m concerned, I never want to see you again.” With that, she stormed across the walkway, and up the stairs to the skytrain.

“Tough break,” she heard the skater tell Alex, as she left.

The phone rang as Raya got in the door of the apartment. Dara didn’t seem to be around, so Raya rushed to answer it. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi,” said the voice on the other line, warm, young, and male. “Is Dara there?”

She recognized him at once. “Sorry, Taylor,” she said. “She’s not here right now. You want me to take a message?”

“Nah, it’s all right, I’ll call back,” he said. “So, how’s North Van treating you, Raya?”

“Oh, I’m adjusting,” she told him. “It rains a lot more. How goes the tour?”

“It doesn’t,” he said. “I don’t start until November; I’ve got a video to shoot in LA, first. But then it’s every state in the US, followed by half of Europe. Then I hit Halifax, and work my way west.”

“Saving us for last?” she teased him.

“It’s worth it,” he said. “That way, by the end of it, I’m already home.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said dryly.

He laughed. “Yeah. I’ll send you some tickets.”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not? It’s the least I can do for the only normal girl I know.”

“Thanks.” Raya blushed, thinking of her powers. If only you knew.

“What?”

“I said, thank you,” she told him.

“No, after that.”

“But I didn’t say anything else,” she said.

“My bad, I guess. But I’ve gotta go, Raya, so you take care, okay?”

“Okay, Taylor. I’ll tell Aunt Dara you called.”

Raya hung up, a smile on her face. She’d never admit it to Becca, but she’d spoken with Taylor on any number of occasions. They’d only met a few times in person. As a Gifted teacher back in New Westminster, Dara had befriended her student; now that he was out of high school and famous, he maintained the relationship. He’d often teased Raya for being “normal”, compared to the reams of fangirls he’d dealt with in the past year. As secret as her friendship with him was, sometimes she found she could relate to him better than anyone, including Alex.

Especially Alex, she told herself now. That thought reminded her of their conversation at the coffee shop, and her pleasant feeling disappeared. What am I going to do?

*          *          *

(Chapter Eight not yet complete)