After the swimming break and an overnight rest, the group mounts up in the morning and is on its way to Xanadu.
Martin takes the remainder of the trip slowly, over several days, and uses the journey to instruct Celina and Folly in some of the intricacies of shadow-shifting. Each of them gets a chance to practice shifting under his tutelage. Garrett and Lilly are welcome to listen, but Martin is primarily interested in teaching the two who can demonstrate mastery of the lessons.
Garrett listens closely for a while, but finds a lot of the information goes over his head. He stops worrying about it after a time, figuring he learns better by doing, anyway.
Lilly can not help but pay attention. Her curiosity always seems to get the better of her. It is interesting in part because she does not truly understand. The knowledge that she shall very soon keep her from becoming frustrated. With luck she will be able to sue some of these teachings then.
With Folly, Martin demonstrates practical application of the theories they discussed on their voyages during the Regency. Many things that frustrated her to no end at the time are suddenly crystal clear.
After the first night, they stay in inns, with Martin and Garrett in one room and the girls in another. Martin shows Folly and Celina the trick of forgetting how many coins are in your pocket so you always have enough.
Each new bit of Pattern-lore seems to root and flower in Celina. Her mood is plainly up-beat and improving as they close with Xanadu. Martin gets much attention, which Lilly and Garrett might interpret as flirty--but Folly will see Celina is just a young woman becoming larger and more sure of herself.
At night, Celina often seems to have some trouble settling down to sleep. She talks to Lilly and Folly about this or that little marvel of the day, her inner eye certainly playing back the evolution of shadow all about them.
Folly shares in Celina's excitement over their lessons and the things they've seen, but underlying her mood is the steady happiness of one who knows she's returning home.
Settling down in the evening involves several rituals for Lilly. She always takes time to stretch and meditate a bit. Each evening she cleans and polishes her sword. The weapon stays within arms reach at all times. It occurs to her roommates that waking her unexpectedly is probably a bad thing unless it is done from some distance.
In the morning she always seems to find time for a workout, even if that means rising an hour or so before everyone else. There is a good reason she is as toned as she is.
At morning, Celina usually awakes hard from some dream, sometimes coming up from sleep with a gasp, or a hand to her throat. She soothes easily. The flush of her racing heart ebbs quite quickly when she takes in her surroundings.
Each of them can find time to spend alone, or together with one special person. Martin uses at least some of his to speak with someone by Trump.
Without a word to Folly, Celina portions off part of her time to give Martin and Folly some privacy with each other each day. She does not use the sleeping rooms unless preparing for sleep.
Folly does not directly mention it, but Celina can tell she is grateful.
Garrett spends most of his alone time with the horses. Horse grooming has always been relaxing for him and he genuinely enjoys their company. He also gives Celina some riding tips, since he figures they don't have many horses in Rebma -- sorry, Seaward. He keeps forgetting.
Celina's corrections about her origin are gentle and easy. There is no mistake that she has distanced herself from Rebma. However, she doesn't feel slighted that her look and heritage make Garrett forget. Celina will answer questions about Rebma if he asks.
Garrett can tell she takes his animal lessons quite seriously. The size and power of a horse seems to be respected by the Seaward girl. Garrett will find the name of Celina's horse is Mauve.
Of course, Garrett will spend as much time with Lilly as she wishes. He lets her make that call though, because unless she's changed her mind, she was the one that didn't want to make a big deal out of this. Garrett will be happy to make as big a deal as she wants. He'll also accept any swordsmanship advice she's willing to give as he plays with his new toy.
If Lilly seems willing to tutor Garrett, Celina will often be around to watch.
Lilly wants to use this time to get to know Garrett better. She asks questions about his childhood, his parents, his siblings. Physically she does not allow herself to get into compromising positions, there would be time for that later. Right now she simply wants to enjoy his company.
Strangely, Lilly seems hesitant to give Garrett advice about his swordsmanship. She seems keenly aware that a constant banter of, "No. You're doing that wrong," might alienate him. Of course there are times when she just can't help herself. Someone has to teach him defense. And she'll spar with him from time to time.
Martin puts his foot down about that the first time he sees them. "No sparring for you until you've taken the walk, Lilly. Especially not live steel. The risk of injury is too great."
He'll walk Garrett through some exercises to soften the blow.
On the last day, the riders break out of a forest onto a seashore, and Folly can see the outline of the mountain in the distance. She knows she's home. Martin seems to feel it too, because he smiles and urges the horses to run along the beach.
Martin doesn't have to tell Garrett twice. He and Bet take off faster than a bolt from a crossbow.
Celina doesn't race. She does lick her lips and stare at the sea while they move up the beach to the harbor. It smells wonderful here.
Lilly stays back with Celina, enjoying the view. Anticipation begins to fill her. Instantly she begins to catalogue the natural defenses of the area. For her planning such things is an enjoyable diversion.
If Folly and Celina try any more Pattern tricks from here on in, they simply don't work.
As they approach, they can see two vessels in the harbor. One is the Swan, but the other is unknown to the Amber party. There is also a gathering of tents and makeshift stalls that looks like a small marketplace. It has sprung up since Martin and Folly's departure. Martin leads them toward it.
As they approach, people stop what they're doing and several people come to meet them.
An older man, unknown to Folly and the others, calls out, "King Random?"
Martin looks around for his father, and realizes the fellow means him. "No," he says, "I'm Martin. King Random is my father."
"Your Highness," the man says, and bows. "There are disputes in the market. Will you hear them?"
"Not now," Martin says. "Present yourselves at the castle at midday tomorrow, and your cases will be heard."
The man says, "It will be so," and bows again. "Is there anything else?"
Martin looks up the side of the cliff, and says, "Yes. We'd like to hire someone to care for our horses and goods until we return."
A man comes forward, and Martin dismounts. He gestures to Garrett to join him. Garrett can see that the man is plenty competent from his approach and comment, and even though there's no stable to protect the horses from the weather, the corral they'll be in should be safe.
Garrett does check the corral, shaking the posts and rails to be sure they are sturdy. He also checks the condition of the hay, grain and water. He asks several questions of the caretakers before going back and discussing his findings with Martin. Garrett is satisfied, and he's picky.
There is some brief haggling, with Martin asking Garrett's advice quietly as needed, then coins change hands, and the party sorts its small carryables out from the heavy goods in the saddlebags as the horses are taken into the hostler's custody.
They walk up the side of the mountain to the castle. It's a long hike, but it feels good to be off the horses for a while. Eventually they arrive at the castle gate, and are met by guards, who escort them in to see the Regent.
Soren.
He looks careworn and tired, and hugs Folly and gives Martin a clasp and a slap on the opposite arm that passes for a guy-hug. To the three he doesn't know, he offers a friendly handshake.
Folly returns the hug warmly and whispers, "Sorry we were away for so long, sweetie...."
Garrett shakes Soren's hand and introduces himself by name only. He leaves it up to Martin whether or not he wants the relationship revealed.
"He's my brother," Martin says.
Garrett glances at Martin with a grateful smile, then looks back at Soren and nods.
Soren looks incredulously at Folly and Martin. "You guys didn't mention him before."
"I didn't know," Martin protests.
"Syd," Soren says in mock-disgust and throws up his hands.
"...didn't know either," says Folly in a tone that, while gentle, suggests a degree of amused agreement.
Soren rolls his eys, but grins.
Celina eyes the handshake custom and decides to dive in. She grips Soren's hand and pumps it three times with simple dignity. It will be a while before she gets the hang of it.
Lilly's handshake is firm and confident. She meets the regents eyes and offers her full name and title.
Soren is happy to meet the newcomers, but he's more anxious for news of Amber. "Hey it's really good to see you guys. Syd said he was going to be a couple of days at most. It's been almost two weeks. What happened?"
Garrett gapes around at the magnificent castle. He only half-hears Soren's question as he contemplates his new role in this place.
Celina participates with her hands clasped gently behind her back and a neutral expression.
"Two weeks?" Folly repeats, and frowns. "It's only been about a week for us. We, ah, we warned you about the time differences, right? Plus, of course, there's the Syd Factor: He only keeps time when he's, y'know, *keeping time*...."
She looks at Martin. "Has he been held up by something? Something else, I mean?"
Lilly realizes that Syd and Random must indeed be one in the same. The time differentiation intrigues her. She also shares Folly's concern. Her full attention turns to Martin as well.
"Nah, he was just buying time to deal with some things." An unsubtle jerk of Martin's head indicates Garrett. "He said to call him as soon as I got here. Lemme go do that." He reaches inside his jacket for his Trumps and starts to move away from the group.
Martin's reaction brings a demure smile to Lilly's face. Some things were harder to deal with then others, she decides.
"You tell him if he doesn't learn to call when he's gonna be late for a gig, he's fired," Soren says, and he's only mostly kidding. He turns back to Folly and adds grumpily, "I guess two weeks isn't so bad in the overall scheme of things. How was your trip?"
The question seems to be extended to the group at large.
"Tantalizing," answers Celina, "at each swell of knowledge."
Garrett nods his agreement and turns to await Folly's response. She seems to know Soren better.
"Indeed," Folly agrees with a grin at Celina. To Soren, she continues more seriously, "Amber's holding up, but the family's drawing chalk-lines through itself like kids caught in an amicable divorce. It'll be some time yet 'til things shake out and we see who ends up here and who elsewhere, I think. But of course," and now her grin returns, "I'm sure all the *cool* kids will end up here...."
"Most anyway," Lilly adds remembering her conversation with Ossian. She hopes he decides to come to Xanadu but she is not really expecting him to stay. Briefly she wonders if she should try to Trump him later, to let him know they have arrived. After the pattern walk, she tells herself. There really is no point in bothering him until then.
[Folly] glances back toward the guarded door. "So, obviously things here are already rolling -- I mean, guards and everything, and - and we came through the market on the way up.... What've we missed that we should know about?"
Lilly has several questions about the guards but decides to let Soren answer Folly's question first.
"The guards are mostly to keep people from tottering off the balcony. Cliff-diving will remain the sport of Kings, I hope. They're also to keep people who don't know a pre-amp from a patch bay from hurting themselves poking at the generating equipment with a stick."
Folly grins broadly.
Lilly makes a mental note to discover the difference between the two and to not going poking at the generating equipment. She will have to find someone to teach her about these things. Folly perhaps.
Garrett has no idea what Soren just said, but he notes that Folly seemed to. He'll have to ask her later about that and about the glowing light globes that don't flicker like oil lamps do. All he thinks now is that this Soren must be one powerful sorcerer.
["OK, kid, you take your quarter inch instrument cable and plug it into the DI and from there you use a M-M XLR to go to the snake, which is wired to that patchbay. From there, we'll go out to the tube preamp, because we want that warm tube sound, then back to the other patchbay and in from there to the number 13 fader, where it'll get grouped with the cab mic and the overhead, which takes it all to the DA-88. It's a cakewalk. Got that? Good, you're on in 5, I'll punch you in..."]
["Whoa..." Garrett's jaw drops with reverence, much like the hobbits' reaction to Gandalf.]
"Thorn!," calls Soren, "come meet folks." He turns back to Folly. "Thorn was a sailor on Le Cygne --that's the ship that came in just as you were leaving, but he says he used to be in the Castle Guard in Amber. He's organized this lot."
With a discerning eye, Lilly stares at him taking in every bit of his demeanor. If he is to lead the guards, he is going to have to pass her inspection.
He's comfortable in a leadership position, but Lilly hasn't seen him fight. He seems well aware of his locale and his feet are very firmly placed.
The guard comes over and bows. Thorn is tall and thickly built with very muscular arms. Soren says "I'm no good with royal protocol. Thorn, these people are Folly, Garrett, Celina, and Lilly. Garrett is King Syd's and I think the ladies are his cousins. Martin, over there," Soren points, "is his brother." Thorn's gaze lingers for a moment on Martin and then returns to the group.
Thorn's voice is remarkably deep. "Highnesses. Welcome to Castle Xanadu. Please let me know how I or my men can assist you."
Folly's eyes light up at the sound of his voice. She surreptitiously catches Soren's gaze with a querying look he'd recognize anywhere: _Does he sing?_
[Casting: Joe Linbeck]
Soren smiles, just from the corner of his lips.
Garrett nods, grins and utters a mere "Thank you." He's still a bit overwhelmed by the place.
"If I may," Lilly does not wait for objections. "I have several questions for you with regards to both the castle guards and your plans for defense should the need arise. They do not need immediate answer however I would like to arrange a meeting time as soon as possible."
He nods.
"Also, I have some business to attend to here in Xanadu, but after that I would be interested in sparring with you and any of your men." She pays close attention to his reaction. How he responds to such a request from a woman would tell Lilly much about his character. Actually crossing swords would no doubt tell her more but she decides to respects Martin's wishes for the moment.
With his hands at rest behind his back, Garrett looks down at the floor to stifle an amused smile as he wonders how many guards she could wipe out in an afternoon.
"At your convenience, Your Highness." [Thorn] seems perfectly comfortable talking to a woman.
"Good," Lilly repiles sounding genuinely pleased. "You shall hear from me soon."
"How many are here now?" Folly asks, "...and where does that other ship hail from? I didn't recognize her colors." The question is casual, but Folly is alert for clues in Thorn's demeanor as to his general attitude toward the other crew.
"LeCygne, now flying Xana... the colors of Xanadu and a ship from someplace called Avalog."
"Avonlon" says Soren.
"Avonlon" corrects Thorn. "They are a military supply ship and are attempting to determine what to do now. They've sold us their supplies, which was good. We also have two fishing boats which are out fishing."
[And, says the player who hasn't sailed nearly as many trade voyages as her character, about how many people would that be, -ish? I've no real sense how large a crew a ship like LeCygne would carry -- 20? 50? If they'd all pulled up in tour buses I'd be on much surer ground. ;) ]
[Folly would guess on the higher end, but this is a survivor ship, so it could have more people and less cargo, or the other way around.]
I must find if someone knows how to properly cook fish. Celina looks decorous and vaguely interested in all the newness of Xanadu. She seems content to let Lilly and Folly be quiz-scholars.
Garrett is also quite content to let others do the talking. He casually steps back near Celina and takes on a relaxed version of parade rest, trying to look at least sort of like a prince. He also looks in Martin's direction to see how the conversation is going.
"Avonlon," Folly repeats, and nods. She seems to be fixing the name in her memory, and perhaps holding it up against other things she finds there; but evidently it doesn't mean anything to her.
Beside her Lilly is mentally doing the same. It may become important later on.
[Folly] smiles at the guard. "Thank you, Thorn. And you're all settling in well? Do please let us know if there's anything *we* can do for *you*--- Did you get the rundown on how Amber has fared in your absence? Perhaps this evening, if you or any of your crewmates enjoy spinning a good yarn, we could swap stories...." She seems genuinely enthusiastic about the prospect, and probably not just for the excuse to listen to that voice. She loves a good story.
Folly's fingers stray absently to her pocket and lightly touch the outline of her trump case. "Oh!" she says suddenly, "And... and would you happen to know the current phase of the moon?"
Lilly finds the question vaguely odd but says nothing. Instead she waits on Thorn's response before deciding if she has further questions for him.
"Waning, just past full, Highness," Thorn replies to her final question. "We've heard some of the story, but we can hardly make sense of some of them. I'm sure those from Amber would appreciate any news, especially those with families left behind."
Garrett's face clouds at Thorn's last words. He bites his lip and looks at the floor as his worries come flooding back.
Martin finishes his conversation and rejoins the group at about this point. "Dad's going to round up the strays and join us in a couple of hours. He says we're at leisure to find our way around the place until then, but try to meet back up here so we can see everybody, OK?"
Celina brightens. "Find our way around? Would you be willing to give a brief tour, Martin? The trip was very good, but this seems even more exciting." She gestures in a sinuous motion that takes in the foot of the waterfall and finishes up in the heights above the fortress.
"Sure," Martin says. "My tour starts by jumping out into the water--" At the look on several people's faces, he holds up his hand and says, "Kidding," with a grin.
"Uh, Martin?" Garrett asks quickly. "Did he say it's safe to get a message back yet?" Martin's got to know what he means, since he's asked almost daily on the journey here.
"You can talk to him about that. He'll be here in a couple of hours." Folly can sense that Martin is ready to direct that question to someone who can properly answer it at long last.
Garrett nods once. "All right. See you in a couple hours." He seems anxious to explore and walks briskly off to find a page to direct him to his quarters.
Folly touches Martin's hand and says with a twinkle in her eye, "I already know my way around, more-or-less, so why don't you give the tour while I catch up with Soren and the guards?"
Martin nods, once. "Catch you later."
Soren's eyebrows go up. "If you wanted someone to be in charge of stuff, you should've kidnapped Ash."
Folly grins. "You think we should go back and swap?" But the way she reaches out and laces her fingers through his suggest she has absolutely no intention of doing so. "I woulda stayed with you, but I had some stuff I had to take care of. In future perhaps we can make it a group effort."
Her expression softens, and she adds, "How're you holding up?"
"I've had worse gigs." He smiles. "Nobody's thrown anything yet, although there are a lot of people waiting on Syd for official royal decisionmaking."
"So I gathered," Folly nods. "We were accosted on the way up the hill. 'Vamp 'til the drummer comes back in' has become our new way of life. Conveniently, you've always been good at at that."
Soren nods absently. "I'm just glad it was weeks and not years. I'm already starting to lose hair doing this. Syd's really gonna be Drummer-In-Chief for the next 'ever' here?"
"Well, ever-ish," Folly says. "Lifetime appointment and all, if he doesn't just decide to hand it off to someone else. I personally think he oughtta work toward a constitutional monarchy or something, some deal where he gets to do all that shiny stuff that only he can do and let everyone else worry about the boring, crappy stuff. Probably he'd get more days off that way." She grins.
Soren looks at her and says "I thought he was sorta genetically bonded to the throne. But yeah, I don't think he means to spend all his time kinging.
"Um, 'younger brother' wasn't in Martin's story when you all picked me up. What's the story on the kid?"
"Like so many good stories," Folly replies with a grin, "it starts with an 'oops' and ends with an 'oh, sh**'. Apparently Syd was recreationally involved, briefly, with a castle maid who found out about the 'oops' after they'd already broken things off. So she married a very nice stablehand and raised the kid as her husband's, and nobody but the two of them knew the truth 'til Syd got made king and one of Garrett's little sisters overheard his parents talking over what to do about it. She told Garrett, and thence to the 'oh sh**'. Syd just found out a couple days before we left Amber, and that and some other things prompted the last-minute decision to drag Garrett along with us to Xanadu."
Folly shakes her head. "Poor guy. He's a good kid, but he's a little overwhelmed right now, as I'm sure you can relate...." She smiles, a bit ruefully. "Eh, well. We'll all muddle through...."
Soren laughs. "If I ever get my gear working, I'll play you the tapes I made for a band named Muddlefinger. Are there any more at home like Garrett?"
Folly snorts. "If you'd asked me last week if there were any at all 'like Garrett', including Garrett, I woulda said 'no'. So, 'not that I know of' -- for whatever that's worth."
She grins a bit sheepishly at Soren. "So, speaking of adorable but tragically abandoned children -- how's Thelonious?"
"Confused, I think. Spent a bunch of time hiding under the throne, actually. It was funny."
Folly grins, as if she thinks that an entirely sensible thing for Thelonious to have done. It's probably what she woulda done, if she were a cat. "Poor guy. After this evening's dog-and-pony show is over, I'll hafta sit down for some good quality time with him."
Folly turns the subject to more mundane matters, asking Soren and Thorn more details about how the new arrivals to Xanadu are settling in.
Soren nods. "He'll like that."
Folly turns the subject to more mundane matters, asking Soren and Thorn more details about how the new arrivals to Xanadu are settling in.
Soren directs Folly and Thorn out onto the balcony overlooking the falls and the three of you can talk. Thorn will take off after a bit if that's what needs to happen. Soren's mostly working on instinct in terms of ruling, and it's all worked out so far, but he hates not really knowing what he's doing, Thorn was on a ship that was at sea when the black rain hit it, and then it couldn't find the way back. The captain died some time ago and they sailed for years, looking for a way back to Amber. They were glad to have word of it. Thorn, himself, is glad to have solid ground under his feet and likes guarding. He's not as monomaniacal as Lilly about it, though, and mostly they're traffic cops and they keep people from getting hurt. He likes that.
The crew of the Afonlanian ship seems perfectly happy to be in Xanadu, and are thinking that if they can't find their way home, they're just as happy to find new jobs working on ships flying the red unicorn banner.
Soren says "that's about how everyone who shows up here feels. So far, anyway."
Folly asks whether the new arrivals are so far sticking with their shipboard accommodations, or whether they're camping on shore in temporary sites or beginning to build more permanent encampments (she saw the market, but it wasn't clear how makeshift/permanent/habitable the stalls were designed to be), or whether the castle itself has for example revealed accommodations for the guards.
"Yes to all of that. The most promising is the caves. There's also a little lumber camp up at the top of the cliff. On the other hand, the weather is near-perfect, if you're, like me, in the minority who really like Texorami on a spring evening. Summer may suck, though."
She's also interested in the nature of the problems requiring royal decisionmaking. She's obviously taking her job as 'trusted advisor' very seriously.
And she spends some time telling Thorn tales of the Regency, and answering questions he might have about the recent state of Amber.
Thorn and the guards don't seem to be all that interested in Amber or the doings therein. They seem to be listening politely, but the only thing that seems to get them excited is talking about who from Amber should come to Xanadu.
She'll draw out their opinions on the subject, then.
As the time for the king's arrival draws near, she thanks Thorn for his time and insight and lets him get back to his duties. Once he and any guards who may have wandered in to join the conversation have dispersed back to their posts, she asks Soren, "Did Syd tell you about Tir?"
"Yes. He explained about the entire 'people fall to their deaths, but this doesn't stop people from wanting to go' bit. I had a guard on the path up, but Thorn and I went up and looked. You're pretty much over the bay after the fourth step." Thorn nods and Soren smiles, thinly.
The corner of Folly's mouth twitches upward and she looks at Soren for two beats as if reading him. "Did - did you try them?" she asks.
He look at her as if she were a little crazy. "Do I look like the kind of guy who wants to dive several hundred feet into a waterfall's lagoon?"
"Only the first ghost-step," says Thorn.
Folly gives Thorn a proper lopsided grin, which she then turns on Soren. "You only hafta be a *little* crazy to make sure they work."
He is quite certain she wouldn't have stopped at the first step.
He grins, sheepishly.
As the group breaks up, Martin leads Celina out of the hall where they met Soren and starts down one of the hallways. "I'm guessing you'll get a room in the family wing, which I think is over this way. We should probably start there. Have you ever been in Shadows with electricity before?"
"Perhaps I have and it was called something else?" Celina looks a bit wary, as if a scaled electricty might come flying around the corner and want to play. "Please do go on, though. I want to know everything."
And she notes the turns and twists as they move to the family wing.
"It's called anbaric energy in some shadows. Think of it as a special kind of magic, with its own rules: touching an electric appliance while you're wet can be fatal."
Celina's expression lifts. "Yes! I've had studies on anbaric systems." She looks at the lights with a smile. "There was even a book on anbaric hand-held weapons at Nibbeak, but I never expected to see the application. This is great."
Martin points up at recessed lights in the hallway they're walking down. "Those lights are powered by electricity. You'll see little plates in the wall with holes in them. Those are places where electricity is channeled into a room. Electrical devices have plugs that fit into those holes. Don't you touch them, though." He looks at her to be sure she's following the lecture, and the injunction.
"In some places, there are rubber caps for those holes. Let me guess, the air doesn't have enough potential for the power to leak out? But anything conductive would let it out, including me?" Celina almost surely looks like she will try poking at the anbaric system when she is alone, despite Martin's cautions. Her face is a study of mixed thoughts.
Martin nods, once.
At one junction, he stops. "That way," he says, pointing down a hall, "is where Dad and I have chambers. Garrett too, now. There's a lot of room, like maybe he's thinking about having a castlefull. Over here is where the family quarters are. I think it's first-come, first-served, so let's find you something, shall we?"
"Yes." Celina strolls with a lighter, eager step. "And I'd like a small room on the ocean side for a library of my own. Unless you think the King would object?" She almost reaches for Martin to give him a friendly squeeze on the arm, but turns that into a reach to her hair to pat at any loose strands.
Martin makes an I'm-thinking face. "The chambers I've seen are all suites, so the second room shouldn't be an issue. For the rest, I think it's first-come-first-served, so you should get the nice ocean view if you want it. There are a lot of rooms no matter which way you go. I think this castle thinks I'm going to have a lot of brothers and sisters. How big is your father's castle?"
"Big enough to compare with this, though I think it rambles more. Xanadu has more floors; more height." Celina begins to verbally sketch something of the long hallways and many stairs of the palace in Paris as the two walk along. "The kitchen is the size nearly of Amber's stables. And then there are several courtyards separating major buildings which might not really be part of the palace, but the urban facades make them seem so-- much like Rebma."
Martin nods once, slowly.
Celina notes how many doors are half open, almost welcoming a visitor to enter and stake a claim as they pass. As they both navigate into a new corridor she judges parallels the shore, a flash of blue arrests her imagination. She hesitates at the glimpse of sapphire horizon--but the door here is three-quarters open and she moves to lay a hand on it.
Looking around the room, smelling the air from open casements, she asks Martin. "What are the odds that we will end up spending much time in Xanadu?"
"How long do you plan to live?" Martin asks. "Over the centuries, time adds up."
Celina, caught by surprise, laughs large and with squinted eyes. Now she does lean into Martin, squeezing him briefly and releasing. It is a token reward for the laugh, that is obvious.
Martin has a Rebman's sense of personal space. There's no sense that it's an intrusion to touch him.
"Starfish, you're the funniest fellow. No one laughs in Rebma, have you noticed? Well, of course you have, you left." She wipes at her eyes. "I plan to live long enough to feed you your dotage pablum, nephew cousin."
Martin grins at Celina.
She pushes the door fully open and moves into the room. The next comment is softer, but she is not used to the good ears of the family. "Or until my doom catches up with me."
His expression sobers, but she has turned away from him and doesn't see it.
Celina begins to run her hands over furniture and shelves. She lifts a purple chenille throw from the seat bench at the window and smells the cedar musk it has acquired from storage.
Celina turns about and grins at Martin. "If this is my room, I applaud your father's flexible sensorial state. You are welcome here anytime. Bring your friends, too."
"Thank you. That's a generous offer. You're free to visit me in my chambers, of course. You have a nicely developed sense of propriety, so I don't worry about you showing up at a private moment." Martin recovers his grin. It's as close as he's come to alluding to her efforts to let him and Folly have some time alone.
Celina blushes. "Kind of you to say so. Whatever passes for an analogy on the surface world, I too often feel much more clumsy about my propriety than that. I did say 'anytime', didn't I? That implies a lot more than what I was thinking." She pauses. "Immortal time scale is treacherous in implications."
Martin nods.
Celina shakes her head to dismiss some fey humor. "So let be. Anytime. You and your friends. I know you'll scratch nice and loud. That'll be enough."
The Seaward girl walks back to him. "Let's see more of the castle and talk about anbaric systems and mirrors while we walk. I'm thinking that a copper foil could be used to back glass." She walks past Martin and back into the hall. "Positive and negative terminals could be worked into the frame. I think the psychic shock of extending senses through a mirror that could smack you into next week might make some people very cautious. Is that an idea worth looking into?"
Celina flits her emerald gaze over Matin's reaction.
Martin reaches up and grabs a lock of his hair between his fingers and his thumb. "See this?" he says. "It's blond. Not red. Or green for that matter."
He releases the hair. "I'd say ask one of the redheads, probably Bleys. He'd consider it an interesting problem."
Celina slows. Was that a test? Am I still going to be tested?
"The light must be playing tricks on me," Celina replies, "I thought there was a bit of green in the roots of your hair." She steps three times more before adding, "I trust you Martin. Now why would you send me to Bleys? Isn't he --?" That question is thrown away. She looks at him. "I mean will he respect a Seaward angel? Or will he put me to sniffing out a problem that would paint my brains across the walls of my room? Vere has already pointed out that I show too much of myself. Dare I ask Bleys anything?"
Martin seems disconcerted by the questions. It takes him a moment to find the right words. "Bleys and I have come to an--accommodation, let us call it. His daughter and I were lovers for some years." He frowns, and continues quickly, "I wouldn't send you to him if I thought him likely to hurt you, although he is keen-sighted and some of his jests are sharp-edged."
Celina nods.
He adds, "As for my hair, among the people of Amber, blond hair is associated with a lack of intelligence and certainly a lack of studied knowledge. But in our family red hair is associated with arcana and sorcery. I'd send you to one of our cousins if I knew one who was well-enough trained in sorcery."
"That's well enough," Celina says. "I see what you're saying then about hair." She brightens and her next words are playful. "Perhaps I'll have my hair done blonde. If it works to keep folks from assessing my intelligence, I'll owe you a pleasant debt."
Martin snorts, amused.
She tosses her hair as if to expose the back of her neck foolishlessly. She laughs quite tenderly then, though the sound is lonely.
Celina hears it in the hallway echo. Blushes. She shrugs. "Vere has the eyes of a god. Oh well."
A few steps. "Bleys. I'll remember. Thank you." She puts her attention back to the castle. They both enjoy opening a few doors and wandering for a few more hallways.
Finally when they both seemed satisfied with their rough understanding of where they've been and where they are again, Celina nudges them both into a room lit only by the windows facing the bright horizon. She doesn't sit in any of the lovely satin cushioned furniture grouped in the room. She stands at the window watching the ocean. "Martin, I'm going to tell you this--even though it sounds like I'm swimming upside down."
Martin comes to stand beside her. Perhaps he had intended companionable silence, but now he's listening attentively.
She doesn't look at him, but studies something in the infinite. "I feel stranger and stranger. I am Moire's success at playing a long game. She holds and distracts everyone in Rebma from truths. She is cool and brilliant and keeps the game going to bind everyone in the great current. Keeps them looking for advantage.
"But it is a false game. A distraction. The whole of it to keep others from what she really tries to accomplish. I think Khela and Moire are the players to watch. I'm the weapon they seek to shape. Do they work together? Are they bitter foes? Will you tell me what you know? The shadows over my head don't even go away when I sleep."
"I promised you this story some time ago, didn't I? It's not pleasant hearing. Perhaps you'd like to sit down? It'll take a few minutes." Martin gestures back toward a pair of chairs.
Celina hesitates at the gesture to sit, but reconsiders and does so on a couch with plenty of room for three.
Martin joins her.
"When I was a young man, past my first century but not much so, Khela was often at court. As Llewella's daughter and a magician of some competence, she held a place of honor. She dabbled in esoterica of all sorts: magic, mirrors, the TaKhi. Other things, some of them older and darker. I didn't know that then. She was my friend and kinswoman, and I was naive. I could afford to be."
Hearing of a younger Khela makes Celina very attentive.
"I don't know how her studies brought her to the Tritons, but they did. She had one, Teukros--probably still has him. She became friends with a philosophical circle devoted to Triton philosophy. They were a bunch of wealthy youngsters, mostly from good families. Some of their mothers would have been less than pleased to hear what their daughters and sons were getting up to between the tides. Eventually she introduced me to her friends, too, which was where all the real trouble started."
"Khela is still beautiful and involved with esoterica. That much hasn't changed. Go on, please."
Martin does so. "She introduced me to her friends. Some of them were interested primarily in Triton philosophy, but others, like Cassia, became more interested in the politics that surrounded them. If their ethics and ideals were so worthwhile, why did they serve as slaves to the Queen? Why were they forbidden weapons? Why were they limited in the places they could go? All of those things are in the law, you know." He looks significantly at Celina.
"And when you talk about Triton philosophy, ethics, and ideals, being studied, is this the original culture, or the way it is now? It seems there might be two faces." She seems tense.
"What we know is what is--or at least what the Tritons have told us is. Whether that's what was, or even if they're telling the complete truth about the way things are, well ..." Martin trails off and shrugs.
"I trust Atrios, though." He pauses for a moment, the before continuing his story.
"Cassia was even more of a firebrand than Khela. Her mother was a Duchess, although not of royal blood. Her family had great hopes for her, but she was wasting her time with the downtrodden instead of making her way in court. The only things she ever did that they really liked was me." The corners of Martin's mouth lift slightly, but his smile is bitter.
Her cousin's bitter smile is doubled in the emerald mirrors of Celina's eyes.
"But she was persuasive, and people began to question the Triton laws. And that was when my grandmother decided she'd had enough, and acted."
"And what did Queen Moire do to silence this firebrand and her crew?" Celina whispers.
"One of our friends was a woman named Cornelia. She was a Baroness, Neapward Banks if I remember correctly. She disappeared, and eventually her body was found. She'd been murdered. There was an investigation, more accurately a frame job. Montage was involved--he'd been the boyfriend of someone in our circle, and later I found out he was a plant in the Royal Service. It was put out that Cassia had Cornelia murdered because Cornelia had found out about her republican leanings."
Celina is very still and intent.
Martin looks out the window for a moment before turning his attention back to Celina. "Cassia was convicted of Cornelia's murder and executed. Because she was nobly-born, she was given the option of dying on the Faiella-Bionin instead of the garrote. I stood there and listened to her last words and then I watched her step off. I swore I'd never be so helpless again. I didn't live up to it, of course." Another bitter smile.
Her last words. I hope they were more than, 'sorry'. Celina knows she will have to do TaKhi after this. She is filling with the bitter tension of history. Her toes grip and release in her boots.
"They cleaned up the rest of the Libertists. A bunch of our middle-class hangers-on, people without titles, were garroted. The nobles were exiled or bound over. I was put under watch. And the last I saw of Khela was before Cassia's death. Montage told me she'd been quietly garroted in her cell. I never saw her again."
Cassia a more passionate version of Khela? Starfish. How similar he and I are. Celina swallows and wonders why she needs to always ask more questions. Martin's memory is like a live thing only a few days old, not decades in the past. This is all so hard for him. I don't feel right about stirring these waters.
Celina chews at the corners of her mouth. She crosses her arms over her tense belly. "Why did so many get the wire? I mean," she looks at his squarely, "with Khela and Cassia out of things, why did the throne decide so many had to die? What sort of charges were made? Or was it just treason?
"Further, you already said you don't know sorcery. How is it that you know that Khela was trying things darker and older than modern esoterica? How is it that you didn't know it then, but can mention it now? Did Khela's odd studies taint the Libertists?
"Is it possible that Montage told you the truth of the moment? That Khela escaped Rebma by allowing a mirror of herself to be arrested and garroted in her cell? Is that the sort of dark art you hinting at?" Her hands are very cold. She wants to walk, or run, but she sits quietly.
"I didn't know such a thing was possible then," Martin replies thoughtfully, distracted by the question from whatever memories have ridden him through the conversation. "I've learned a lot--been taught a lot--since then. I don't have the aptitude for Sorcery, but I understand the general outlines and have some idea of some things could be done with it. Khela's studies didn't match that and they didn't make sense from what little I know of mirrors.
"The rest of it--I don't know. I don't know why so many people had to die. I don't know who was threatened by what we did, which was mostly talk big. It wasn't a revolutionary cadre, it wasn't a magical workshop. It was just a bunch of philosophy students who made the wrong friends, and got the wire for their trouble." Martin shrugs helplessly.
This last shakes Celina, though she tries to hide it. It hits close to heart. No reason. Not a workshop. When did talk and philosophy become a death sentence? Is Moire mad? Is someone in her court mad? The Queen is protected and isolated enough that a few closely placed people could give her slanted information.
Or is just the act of will in holding things together when she isn't the right person for the job making her mad? What had determined the transfer of power from Moins to Moire? That seemed important.
Starfish. Everything seemed important.
Celina pulls back from the black trench that is yawning before her thoughts. She is still cold. A hand to her face checks that she is not crying again. She runs her palm back over her hair. She needs to thank him for sharing this--this nightmare. Celina wets her lips. "It must be hard living with the unanswered questions. Perhaps in sharing them, we will both find some peace. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Martin replies, but there's no force in the rote words. He looks at Celina like there are a million things he'd like to say, but he settles on none of them and nods, once, instead.
"Can you tell me something about Oberon? Not as a man, but as a King? What sort of relationship did he have with Moire?" Celina doesn't seem to think this is out of context.
Martin doesn't either, but he shakes his head. "I knew him only at the end, after my run-in with the other end of the family. I never really knew him as a sitting monarch, only as a seeker and a teacher. He never discussed my grandmother with me." He shrugs, and bows his head.
The impulse to reach and cradle Martin's head when it bows is strong. Celina draws a sharp breath, thinking she has already done it. She sees also the following kiss she puts tenderly on his cheek, asking forgiveness for running him through all this. Her hands wander lower, gentle against the hidden scar, as if a mother's hands.
But Celina of all people knows that Martin never had a mother.
Celina blinks, stands abruptly and moves quickly to the window. Pushing open the casement she leans out for the sea air. She pulls a couple of breaths of clarity from the sea. She nods. "S-silly me."
"Not silly. You wouldn't know." Martin rises, and Celina hears the footfalls as he comes to join her by the window overlooking the sea. The mountain shelters the castle windows in its shadow, but there is light on the water in the distance.
"I suppose you're right." Celina keeps her eyes on the distant calm of the sea and her hands laced together on the window sill.
After arriving in Xanadu, Lilly finds she can not fully relax until she knows something about the castle guards. Soren might trust them. Random and Martin might trust them. Lilly is not so easily swayed. She wants to know their level of training and preparation. She proceeds to find out as much as she can about them through observation and a few well placed questions.
Once satisfied, she makes her way to the salle leaving word with the staff in case anyone should have need of her. Right now the exertion of a good workout should help to ease both her body and soul, or so she hopes. More then anything, should would like the chance to spar with the guards. Martin's warning against such things though rang out in her thoughts. Inexperienced fighers could be far more dangerous then experienced ones. The risk of injury was simply too great. Tonight she was simply going to have to settle for a full solitary workout.
In the meantime, Garrett meanders the hallways of the great new palace of Xanadu, peeking into open doorways and practicing his sword walk. Over the last several days, he has perfected it to the point where it's starting to look natural, but he finds that if he doesn't concentrate, the sheath does indeed bang him in the leg to get his attention.
As he turns a corner, he finds himself approaching the salle. He starts to enter, then stops just outside the doorway. Lilly is there, alone, in the midst of a rigorous workout. Garrett smiles and leans against the outside of the door frame, watching. He has always been fascinated by her style -- precise, yet graceful; lithe, yet deadly. Even if he practiced for a thousand years, he couldn't match it. He's already seeing his own style emerging, but it's ground-based and relies on his naturally fast feet and incredible stamina. She spins and whirls and seems at times to defy gravity. No, he could never match her.
When she appears to be winding down, Garrett enters the salle and picks up a towel from her things. When she is finished, he hands it to her with a grin. "I should've known I'd find you here, if I'd known where here was," he smiles.
"It was here," she says taking the towel from him and drying her brow, "Or the library. I just happened to find here first." She starts to laugh. "Shall I tell you how pathetic I am? I knew where the Salle would be. I simply analyzed all the defensive and offensive features of the palace and assumed it would be down here. Here makes the most sense." Again there is a slight bit of laughter. "I'd like to tell you that I couldn't find the library with much the same sort of logic but chances are I could."
"Look for good light and smell for old books," Garrett grins. "I reckon I could find the stables if I looked for a flat patch of grass and sniffed for manure." He looks like he might be considering that as Lilly continues.
"Folly said Xanadu would become what we brought to it. I've evidently brought the logic. Not very exciting, is it?" She is still smiling up at him, her eyes bright with inner joy.
"Somebody has to keep the rest of us in line, and I think it's _very_ exciting," Garrett teases as he gives in to the impulse to kiss her cheek. He smiles at her warmly, his eyes sparkling. His appearance has changed a bit since that first night by the paddock. For want of a razor, he hasn't shaved since leaving Amber. His mustache is just getting past the prickly stage, but the beard is still sparse. Lilly will probably also notice that his posture has improved from carrying the sword around. But his eyes still have the same boyish twinkle.
Lilly does not back away from the kiss at all, a noticeable change in her behavior. Throughout the trip she had been making an effort to keep a bit of physical, though not emotional, distance between them. Now she almost seemed to welcome it.
Garrett looks around at the salle. "So is this the first place you came after you checked out your quarters, or have you explored anywhere else?" he asks.
"We have quarters?" She asks sounding almost sincere. "I suppose I should go there next." By now she has finished toweling off and looks nearly as fresh as she did at dinner. Every hair has fallen back into place. Any signs of exertion have faded.
Garrett laughs. "Yes, we have quarters. Mine are bigger than me whole house back home." The mention of home causes a cloud to cross his face, but it passes quickly. "You can't tell me that you didn't even take a look around."
"To be honest," she continues on, "I talked with the guards and got a feel for the defensive characteristics of the building. But I can't say I've explored in the way you mean it. For me it was business. It's only in the last hour that I've taken time for anything close to pleasure."
Garrett grins slyly. "We'll have to remedy that. If you're done here, perhaps we can search out that lib'ry. I still owe you a study date, remember?"
"Give me one moment," she says as she sets about gathering up her things.
Garrett helps her pick things up and offers to carry some of it, though he knows enough to leave any weapon-carrying to her.
"All right then, off to the library," Lilly announces as she sheathes her sword. "We may find only books that the King's mind has deemed useful. This could be a bit of a wasted trip." She loves her Uncle Random but all the same she is quite convinced his idea of a library is vastly different then hers. All the same, she hopes to be proven wrong. Slowly she begins to walk in the direction she thinks a library would best be found based upon how the light hits the castle.
Garrett continues peeking into doorways and glancing out windows as they go. "Well, if Folly's right and we do have some sort of influence here," a concept which _still_ blows Garrett's mind, "perhaps if we think of what we want to see in the library on the way, it'll be there when we get there. History and horses. That's what I want."
Lilly shrugs. History was good. Science, arts, languages those were all good too. Books on weaponry were always fun. Medicine might be useful. Horses she could probably do without. But if they made him happy, well then she hopes they are there too.
"Of course if the library is not conducive to anything, we can always find the kitchens and acquire a bit of a snack. I could go for some fruit actually."
"I already found the kitchens," Garrett interrupts with a satisfied grin.
She shakes her head in mock disgust. Of course he had found the kitchens. "Then I suppose getting a snack will be easier. And if you can still stand to be in my presence after that, I may just allow you to escort me back to my quarters. Where ever they are." By the time she is done she is smiling broadly.
Garrett glances at her quickly to see if she's serious, then faces forward again, biting his lip to conceal the goofy grin trying to break through. The grin sneaks around the roadblock and he smiles boyishly down at her. "Let's see... where would your quarters be?" he looks up at the ceiling, thinking. "East side, to catch the morning sun. Corner, to provide a defensive view from two sides...no, _turret_ for nearly full-circle viewing. At least third level, same reason. Am I close?" he asks eagerly.
"You know an interior, well protected room would also be a reasonable option," she says. "Something near the salle or the guard quarters. Or heck adjacent to the war room." By now he is certain she is not at all serious. "But you might be close to being correct in your assumptions."
He smiles at her affectionately and reaches for her hand as they walk, lacing fingers if she'll allow it. He walks along in silence for a moment, then asks tentatively, "So, um... has Martin told you when he's gonna let you walk?"
Lilly shakes her head slowly, "No. But I don't think it's his decision. I think it's Uncle Random's. That doesn't mean it won't happen before he arrives though. I thought to confer with Martin about it in the morning. I figured I needed at least one good night's rest before hand." Lilly falls silent for a moment then abruptly stops walking. She guides Garrett with their interlocked hands until he is facing her.
Looking deep into his eyes she fights to find the words, "I'm not afraid anymore. Not really. At first I was afraid for the reasons we spoke about that night..." her voice trails as she reflects. Quickly she regains her focus, "And then I was afraid for another reason." Now she finds looking at him is far too difficult. Her eyes cast downward.
He squeezes her hand in support and cocks his head curiously, waiting for her to go on.
"Since that night, I have been a bit distracted." She blushes slightly. "You have been on my mind quite a bit. And I was worried that I was being weak somehow, that all the thoughts of you would keep me from being able to complete the task. I felt rather foolish for letting myself be in that situation.
"Then I had a chance to speak with Folly and Celina. They helped me realize that trying to ignore my feelings or run away from them was a mistake. I now know I must open my heart, I must take a chance and let you in. I must carry you with me on my journey rather then trying to leave you behind." She ventures looking at him once more. "And now I am not afraid."
His smile is not just joyful. Lilly can see an element of relief there that she might not have expected. He puts down anything he was carrying for her and takes her load as well. "C'mere," he says conspiratorially as he takes her other hand in his and leads her to one of the window alcoves that overlooks the grounds.
As the pink glow of sunset battles with the lights from the hallway, Garrett fishes for something in his pocket. Lilly can hear what sounds like coins clinking together, then he pulls out something hidden in his closed fist.
While still holding one of Lilly's hands, Garrett starts to speak in the tone of a storyteller. "Back in the Quarters, the farrier, Pritchel, sometimes makes little rings out of iron horseshoe nails. He gives 'em to the children there, 'cause he says even servants' children need to know they're special. 'Pritchel's Jewels' they call 'em. Me sisters have a couple. They're hard to make, 'cause the nails are iron and real strong. You can't bend 'em without a hammer and vise."
Garrett's grin widens. "At least, most people can't." He opens his fist and places the perfect horseshoe ring in her palm. He gives her a moment to look at it, then continues, "This is for strength. If the demons come at you on your walk, this'll remind you what we talked about that first night. That you're stronger than they are."
She looks up at him, eyes beginning to glisten. Knowing words would fail, she dares not speak. Wrapping her hand around the precious ring, she draws it in close. Clenched hand now rests against her heart.
He pauses, and this time it's he who has to look down to control the lump that has formed in his throat. When he looks back at her, his smile has gone beyond mere affection. "Martin won't let me come with you. I already asked. But I'll be there. Just hold this and I'll be there. It took my strength to bend it, love, and it's all yours." He reaches out and gently wraps her in his arms, resting his cheek against her silky hair.
Resting her head against his chest, Lilly lets the tears fall freely. The emotion of twenty years, of never quite feeling a part of her surroundings, of being alone, comes crashing forth. Never would she be alone again. Not in her heart and that is where it truly mattered. Sorrow and anger are released leaving only love and joy behind. In that moment Lilly is happier then she has ever been in her life.
"Thank-you," she whispers and it is clear the gratitudes extends well beyond the simple gift of the ring.
As Garrett feels the first few tears dampen his shirt, he holds Lilly closer, his arms like a cloak around her shoulders and back. A few tears of his own fall on top of her head and she can feel a lop-sided smile as he kisses her hair. Any smart-mouth remarks he might have considered wither and die. Even 'you're welcome' fades away. What slips out in a whisper is "I love you, Lil."
Lilly pulls him closer. After a long moment, she releases him slightly so that she can look into his eyes. Her tear streaked face is full of hope and promise.
Garrett strokes Lilly's hair contentedly as he holds her. When she leans back, he returns her gaze, his blue eyes damp and sparkling, with a joyful smile that says it all.
Seconds pass as she simply stares, allowing the tension between them to build. Before she can change her mind she does something she has never done before, she leans in for a kiss.
Garrett obliges happily, and returns it in spades. After a few moments, he breaks off with a modest smile and wipes away one of her tears with his thumb. "What a pair we are, eh?" he chuckles with a quick sniff of his own. With a stroke of her cheek, he starts to let her go, but can't resist pulling her in for one more playful squeeze.
Then he really does let her go. As Garrett leans over to pick up the things he so unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the hallway, he says brightly, "What d'ya say, Sunshine? Let's go find us a lib'ry before we get ourselves in trouble." He shifts the load to one arm and offers her his hand.
"I never get in trouble," she replies trying to sound quite serious and giving Garrett no reason to believe a word of it. "But you are right. We really shouldn't linger too long in this hallway. What if Martin decided to surprise me by bringing my father to the castle to witness my pattern walk? He might just stumble upon us. And do you really want to explain this to Prince Benedict? I am his little girl you know." She is joking, or at least she believes she is.
"Ah...no," Garrett says definitely. "I wouldn't want to explain it to _my_ father - either of them - let alone yours." Despite that thought, he does still take her hand as they continue in the direction they believe the library to be.
For the moment she is content to simply follow his lead. Wherever their footsteps take them is fine with her. She is barely thinking about anything other then the company she is in. For the first time in perhaps forever her heart is content.
As is Garrett's. His concerns about home, family and meeting new relatives are pushed to the back of his mind as he walks hand in hand with Lilly. After a few minutes he asks out of the blue, "That doesn't bother you, does it? The nickname, I mean." He smiles sheepishly. "I don't even know where it came from, really. It just kinda slipped out that first night." He looks into her eyes for her approval. "If it bugs you, I'll stop."
She shakes her head. "Somehow, coming from you, it works." Lilly replies. "Of course if the castle guards, or unicorn forbid other relatives, pick it up I may just have to hurt them." She smiles broadly. "I mean really, 'Dame Sunshine'? It just doesn't inspire fear, you know." After a moment she laughs. "Of course I am named after a flower and apart from the Dae-Adonis variety, they don't really inspire fear either do they?"
He shrugs. "Depends. I hear some of the plants on the Black Road were pretty ferocious." He grins down at her. "Don't worry about your reputation, love. I promise not to say it in front of anyone else." He laughs as he adds, "Can you imagine the grief I'd get from Folly and Mar...Oh, _shit!_"
Garrett drops Lilly's hand and peers out the nearest window to check the level of the sun. "C'mon! We're gonna be late!" he calls over his shoulder as he breaks into a run back the way they came. As he runs, he shifts the things he's carrying over to his right arm and holds his scabbard in place with his left hand. _Practice running with sword,_ he mentally puts on his "To Do" list for tomorrow as he speeds back to the room where they are to meet the others.
Lilly takes a moment to peer out the window herself. Yes, he was right. Guests should be arriving soon. All the same she does not wish to look the inexperienced fool by bursting in at a full run. No, she would walk. With luck they would arrive right on time.
"Garrett!" she calls. "You're going to look guilty that way. Walk. Walk fast. But walk." With a shake of her head and a small laugh she jogs to catch up with him.
Last modified: 18 February 2005