She bristled. “You know nothing about it.”
True. But she loved her brother. “You’re right. But I do
know Teegan needs you here. He hasn’t woken for the healer,
but he woke for you. Without you here, he might not get better.”
A snort of derision. “You’re bluffing. All you grown-ups
are the same. You think I’m some dumb kid. That I would
stay here and be easy prey for the Citadel’s guards to pick up.”
She hopped off the bed.
“At least let me contact this Fire Lady. Teegan told you to
stay with her, remember?”
Reema snagged her lower lip with her teeth for a second
before crossing her arms. “He’s sick. He doesn’t know what
he’s talking about.”
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It had been easier to stop a f lameout than convince this girl.
This whole situation felt familiar. I searched my memory and
it didn’t take long. Some recollections never fade with time.
Although I might not think about my sister Tula every day,
she was always in my heart.
“I’m not bluffing about Teegan,” I said. “My sister needed
me with her. She wouldn’t wake for the healers or for Master
Magician Jewelrose or for Yelena Zaltana, the Soulfinder.
Master Jewelrose showed up in the middle of the night, took
me from my home in Booruby and brought me here.” I ges-
tured, indicating the room. “I was terrified, worried about my
sister and overwhelmed. They claimed I was the key to saving
her. What if I did something wrong and she died because of
me?”
The memory of those dark days surged through my body
and transported me back in time. I saw Tula, not Teegan, lying
on the bed, looking small and brittle. My body ached to hold
my sister again. If I had been as smart and savvy as Reema, I
wouldn’t have let her murderer into the room. Wouldn’t have
gone with his accomplice, trusting them to keep their word
that Tula would live if I cooperated.
“What happened?” Reema asked.
Dragging myself to the present, I said to her, “I crawled
into bed with my sister and stayed by her side. I helped Yelena coax her back to consciousness.” The girl didn’t need to know
the sad ending to the tale. Instead I let the joy of having Tula awake and healthy shine on my face. I would always treasure
those few days we had together.
“If I stay here, will you promise me one thing?” she
asked.
“If I can, I will.”
She nodded. “If I’m captured by the Citadel’s guards, prom-
ise me you won’t let them sell me to the Helper’s Guild.”
I blinked at Reema for a moment. Had she really uttered the words “sell me” and “Helper’s Guild” in the same
breath? I remembered Fisk’s comments about vicious rumors,
but had taken them in stride, never imagining the actual real-
ity of them. She scrutinized my body language and balanced
on the balls of her feet. Convinced of the danger, she would
run away if I didn’t promise to protect her.
Now wasn’t the time to assure her about the true nature
of the Guild. “No one will sell you to the Helper’s Guild. I
promise,” I said.
With the slightest softening in her posture, she stuck out
her hand. I shook it and she relaxed.
“What’s next?” she asked.
“A bath.” When her stubborn chin jutted, I added, “The
bathhouse is empty right now. Unless you want to wait until
morning and be there with all the students? Your choice.”
“No it isn’t. Don’t play those games with me. You be straight
with me and I’ll be straight with you. Deal?”
She didn’t sound like an eight-year-old. “No sugar-
coating?”
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Maria V. Snyder
“None.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Does it matter?”
“To me, yes. You’re either a child genius or older than you
look.”
She f lashed me a grin. “I’m both.”
“Humor’s okay then?”
“Yes.”
“All right. So naked truth it is. Do we need another hand-
shake or maybe a blood oath just for something different?” I
asked.
past people’s words and hear their true intentions.”
“Smart lady. Did she teach you to play fair?” One of my pet
peeves, I believed schooling kids to play fair failed to prepare them for adulthood.
“No.” Reema tucked her stuffed dog under Teegan’s covers.
He rolled over and curled his arm around the toy. “Let’s
go.”
“Don’t you want to know my name?”
“I know it. That healer called you Opal when we
arrived.”
Smart girl. The bathhouse was straight north of the infir-
mary. As I guided Reema, I played tour guide as we passed
the dining hall and formal garden located in the center of the
Keep’s complex. The two apprentice wings curved around the
sides of the garden like an incomplete ring around a bull’s eye.
Torches lit the empty pathways. No pools or webs of magic
touched me. A nice respite. I hurried Reema past the Fire
Memorial. I didn’t have the energy to explain its significance
to her.
As predicted, we had the bathhouse to ourselves. I helped
her wash her hair. After multiple scrubbings, her true color
emerged—white blond. Beautiful.
Reema frowned at the long coils.
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257
“It’s lovely,” I said, combing out the knots before it could
dry.
“It stands out. Not a good thing where I live.” She scanned
the elegant bathhouse.
The arched walls and high ceiling had been decorated with
colorful mosaics. Blue-green tiles lined the oval pool. In the
corner, the washing area had metal spigots protruding from
the walls above head level. The water would rain from one
of them when the lever hanging next to it was pulled. A rack
nearby held piles of clean towels. A mirror image of this half
of the bathhouse resided on the other side for the males.
“I guess around here, you’d want to stand out,” Reema said.
“You’d want to be the best and brightest at the Magician’s
Keep. Right?”
“The magicians and teachers don’t compare you to other
students, but everyone knows who is strong and who has
limited power. By the end of the first season of the first year, the pecking order has been established.”
“It must have been fun being at the top.”
I paused. Why would she…? Oh. She had watched me enter
a building no one else could, not even a Master Magician.
Naked truth sounded refreshing, but might be harder than I
first thought.
“Actually, I was at the very bottom,” I said.
She turned. “Really?”
I considered. “It’s a long complicated story.”
“Tell
me…please.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Stories help me sleep at
night.”
I imagined her life. Living in a condemned warehouse, no
parents, no food unless she found, stole or begged for some,
she had to constantly worry about predators and the Citadel’s
guards. Stories would be an escape from her harsh reality.
My future life may be uncertain, but I would not let Reema
go back to that horror. I vowed I would find her a home.
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Maria V. Snyder
I told her about my misadventures as a first-year student.
Her light laugh spurred me to dig deeper for the humorous
moments. Interesting, I hadn’t consider them funny at the
time. I stopped once we arrived back at the infirmary. She
jumped into the extra bed in Teegan’s room without reclaim-
ing her stuffed dog. I guessed she felt safe.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, I promised to return in
the morning. I turned the lantern down to the lowest setting
and said good-night.
“Good night, Fire Lady,” she said.
I paused in the threshold. I’d been called various names
before, but that was a new one. Unable to squelch my curiosity, I asked, “How do you know Teegan was referring to me?”
“I just do.”
“Why
fire?”
“You’ll have to ask my brother.”
I’d spent time with Reema over the course of the next
couple days. She mainly stayed by Teegan’s side, but she needed fresh air and Hayes needed information about her and Teegan.
I’d shown her more of the Keep’s complex, hoping to deepen
our connection. Unfortunately, she had refused to share any
more details. At least her brother’s strength increased every
day.
When I arrived on the third morning, Reema sat cross-
legged on her bed. She read aloud from a book resting on her
lap. I listened for a while, glad she could read. It would give her an advantage on the streets.
Finding her a home was proving to be impossible. My
visit to Child Services had been a frustrating and depressing
experience. By the time I reached the correct agent, she took
Reema’s file, set it atop a three-foot-high pile and instructed me in a dead voice to deliver the child to care facility number two. Knowing Reema, she would be there for five minutes
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259
before escaping. When I asked if Reema had a chance to be
adopted, the woman looked at me as if I was an idiot.
I also struck out with my other forays into the Citadel.
Either Fisk avoided me or he had legitimate business. Hard
to tell.
“Where to today?” Reema asked.
Her question snapped me back. She closed the book and set
it reverently on the night table. Hayes had lent her the story
to help her pass the time. Her actions gave me an idea.
“I’m going to show you the Keep’s library.” I led her to the
student barracks.
The long building was curved like the apprentice wing,
but it was three times its size. Located on the west side of
the Keep, it housed the students who were in their first three
years of study. The library filled half of the ground f loor. The Keep’s curriculum concentrated on learning from textbooks
those years, while the seniors in their fourth year began a more hands-on type of learning.
Seniors shared the other long building that mirrored the
barracks with the Keep’s employees. The senior quarters were
broken into rooms shared by five students. Much better than
the rows and rows of bunk beds that lined the f loors of the
barracks.
When we entered the library, a few students glanced up
from their books, but they soon returned to their studies.
Tables and chairs occupied the space between the bookshelves.
I waded through puddles of magic, wishing I’d remembered
morning was a popular time.
Reema stayed by my side. Her lower lip hung open as she
absorbed the sheer number of books. Rows and rows filled the
space, seemingly unending. I moved instinctively, searching
for the history section, but not concentrating too hard.
The stronger the desire to find a certain book the more it
guaranteed a failed effort. It was an odd quirk of the library, as if over the years magic had soaked into the tomes, giving them
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Maria V. Snyder
an essence. A more relaxed, half-distracted search worked
better. However, if a book didn’t want to be found, you were
out of luck.
I discovered the List of Clans tucked between History of the Cloud Mist Clan and Sandseed Soil Study. Reema wanted to explore, but I carried my find to an empty table. She followed, dragging her steps with reluctance and huddled on a chair.
Opening the book to the table of contents, I glanced at her.
She had shoved her hands under her legs, and she stared at the
hem of her shirt.
“Your mother told you no one would know your clan’s
name. Right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe it’s listed in here?”
She wouldn’t look at me. I slid the book to her. Frowning,
she scanned the page. I studied her, watching for a reaction
to one of the names. After a few minutes, she relaxed.
“It’s not here,” she said. “Why is it so important to know
my clan’s name?”
I debated, but settled on the truth. “I’ve run out of options.
I would like to find you a home, preferably with a relative.”
“I don’t need—”
“Reema, once Teegan is healthy he’ll be enrolled as a stu-
dent at the Keep. You’ll be on your own, and I can’t allow
that.”
She straightened. “You can’t stop me.”
“I know. That’s why I need to find you a place where you’ll
be happy and safe.”
“That’s
easy.”
“It is?” Had I missed something?
“Sure. I’ll stay with you.”
I walked right into that one. A hard knot gripped my
throat.
She noticed and shut down. All emotion f led and she re-
turned to street survival mode. “Forget it.”
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261
“Reema,
I—”
“Are we done here? I should get back to Teegan.” She slid
off the chair and headed for the door.
I followed and tried to explain that taking care of her would
be impossible. That I might be called away at any time. But
she ignored me or she pretended to. Either way, I lost her.
“What do you think?” Fisk asked.
I walked around the two-bedroom, furnished apartment
in amazement. It was the first day of the heating season and
sunlight poured in from huge windows occupying two of
the four walls. “It’s incredible.” When Fisk had led me to the
run-down factory, I had been dubious, but the inside had been
renovated and broken into several apartments. “How did you
find it?”
He puffed his chest out. “All in a day’s work.”
I shot him a look.
“What? I’m not going to reveal my secrets. I’d be out of a
job.”
“It’s a clever location,” I said. The building was on the
eastern edge
of the business district in the north section of
the Citadel.
“And not too many people know what’s hidden here. Perfect
for security. Plus I thought you’d like to be close to the Keep and Council Hall.”
The apartment was on the third f loor, which was the same
distance from the roof and from the ground, making it harder
for “spiders” like Valek to climb. “You’re right. I’ll take it.”
Before Fisk could go and negotiate a fair price, I stopped
him. “What about my other request?”
“Nothing,
yet.”
I tried not to show my disappointment as we left the build-
ing. I shouldn’t complain; it was better than Reema’s future.
Unless I found her a home.
“Anything else?” Fisk asked.
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Maria V. Snyder
“Yes. I’ve heard a rumor about the Citadel’s guards selling
homeless children to your guild. What’s going on?”
His pleasant demeanor dropped as anger f lared. “And you
believe it.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course not—”
“Then why mention it?”
I told him about Reema. His anger transferred from me to
those who had scared her.
“I’ve been dealing with these nasty rumors. The Helper’s
Guild is a very profitable business. After I pay my members a
small allowance, I use the rest of the money to buy housing,
clothes and food for them. But there is another group trying
to form their own guild so they can keep the profits.”
“And the children?”
“You saw where Teegan and Reema were living.”
For an instant Fisk let his exhaustion show as he drooped.
The responsibility of caring for his guild weighed on his shoulders and lined his face. I had to remind myself he was only
sixteen.
“How can I help?” I asked.
“You
can’t…”
I
waited.
He brightened just a bit. “You can convince Reema we’re
the good guys.”
If she’d let me.
I moved my meager possessions to the apartment as soon
as the deed was signed. Even though I spent most of my day
at the Keep, it was a relief to leave at night. Teegan’s heath
improved and my concern about Reema grew. I kept walking
into my extra bedroom and just standing there, straining to
find a solution or a way to help the girl. Life in the guild was better than on the streets, but life in a home would be ideal.
But my apartment wasn’t a home for me, nor was my fac-