Second Guard (15 page)

S
upper the next night was a quiet affair, as Tali and her friends settled into their usual table and chairs in the corner. She caught a glimpse of
Drayvon in the opposite corner with his Sun Guild lackeys, but she also noticed that at many of the tables in between sat mixed groups of pledges taking their meal together. With each passing day
it became less obvious which guild someone came from as they all began to take on the look of muscled, weary pledges.

Earlier that day, Tali had briefly told her friends about her encounter with Jaden, but there was not much to discuss after the boys had thoroughly scolded her for going to the training ring
alone, and now they were too hungry to bother with conversation. The stew was plain but filling, and the three wasted no time digging in. Tali knew her sister and father would be aghast at the way
she ate at the Alcazar. On the tradeboat, a meal was to be savored, each course a festival of newly traded ingredients that Nel seemed to combine so effortlessly. Sometimes it would be perfectly
ripe
maracuyá
fruit whipped with sugar and cream, or a catch of freshwater shrimp grilled to perfection with lemon drizzled over the top. Warm corncakes accompanied every meal,
slathered in churned butter or herbed goat cheese—a far cry from the hard, tasteless cakes served at the Alcazar. Most evenings Tali followed Chey’s custom of breaking the corncakes
into pieces and stuffing them into her stew to soften.

As she ate, she mentally reviewed her aches of the day. Pain was her constant companion. As soon as one muscle ache would dissolve, another one would appear to take its place. Today it was a
stab between her shoulders; even the small act of lifting her spoon seemed to aggravate it. She had just swallowed the last drops of stew when a young, gray-clad servant appeared behind
Zarif’s shoulder, staring at Tali.

“You are Talimendra Sanchez of the Magda River?” the boy asked, in almost a whisper.

“I am,” Tali answered. How strange and comforting it was to hear her full name once again spoken on someone’s lips.

“Please visit the aviary as soon as you are able,” the boy said and then bowed courteously, leaving the friends to look at each other in surprise.

The words had not even registered with Tali before Chey had pushed his bowl forward and stood up. He grabbed two of the dusty corncakes in his large hands and nodded to Tali. She tilted back her
cup to finish the last of her coffee and rose from the table. Zarif nodded and left the remains of his supper behind. Though he had claimed to leave most of his formal Moon Guild manners in Fugaza,
he still could not bring himself to shovel his food down as quickly as Tali and Chey did.

The trio did not speak on their way upstairs, but hurried as fast as their tired legs would carry them. Brindl met them at the door of Saavedra’s cottage and ushered them inside. Tali was
pleased to see a cozy, warm fire awaiting them, as well as a tray of steaming tea and fragrant sweets. Saavedra, however, was absent from his usual perch behind the table. Tali peered out the
window to see if he was on his way from the aviary.

“He is not here,” Brindl said. “You need not look about.”

“Then why—” Tali began to ask, but stopped when she saw the frown on Brindl’s face. “I’m sorry, I assumed there had been a message from Nel.”

“There has,” Brindl said. “Saavedra left me in charge of the aviary today, as he was summoned to write letters for Commander Telendor. I did not think you would want to
wait.”

“Of course, you did the right thing, Brindl,” Zarif said, trying to smooth the awkward moment between the girls. He smiled reassuringly at Brindl, and Tali thought she saw a slight
blush rise on the cheeks of the pale girl. Even Brindl is not immune to Zarif’s charms, thought Tali, as she exchanged an amused look with Chey.

“Please, let us sit and have tea,” Brindl said, busying herself with the tray.

“Might I read my message first?” Tali asked.

“Of course,” said Brindl, handing cups of tea to Zarif and Chey, who had already seated themselves. “But do sit down, please. There’s something I must tell
you.”

Tali raised her eyebrows and reluctantly lowered herself into a well-worn chair.

“The message from Nel was nearly lost,” Brindl said, pouring a cup of tea for Tali.

“What do you mean?” Chey asked.

“The bluejacket’s wing was injured,” Brindl said.

“There could be several reasons for that,” Zarif offered. “Perhaps a goldenwing or some other bird of prey attacked it.”

“A goldenwing attack would not leave a perfect hole in the wing, as if an arrow had passed through it,” Brindl answered, her voice becoming more confident as she spoke. “Nor is
this bluejacket the first to be injured or missing of late.”

“So you think they are being attacked?” Tali asked.

“What does Saavedra make of this?” asked Zarif at the same time.

Brindl shrugged. “Saavedra says we must keep our eyes open for more evidence. I believe he was going to discuss the matter with Commander Telendor today.”

“At least the bluejacket’s injury did not keep it from delivering Nel’s message,” Tali said. “May I read it now?”

“Yes, here it is,” Brindl said, pulling a tree twig from her pocket, perfectly hollowed to house a bluejacket message.

Tali peeled back the wax that secured the note inside, and unrolled the tiny scroll, immediately recognizing the neat handwriting of her twin.

Though Chey stood back respectfully, Zarif could not resist peeking over Tali’s shoulder to read the message.

“It is a relief to you, I’m certain,” Zarif said. “Nel’s message seems to indicate that all is well.”

“Yes,” Tali answered. “Although it seems my sister misses me as much as I miss her.”

“What does she say exactly?” Brindl asked.

Tali looked at her in surprise. The question was bold, and Tali was certain that Saavedra would not approve. Pigeonkeeps had no right to ask about the contents of a message. Their job was to
deliver the messages: no more, no less.

Brindl must have sensed Tali’s thoughts, for she quickly defended herself. “I only ask because you yourself wrote a message coded to read innocently. Perhaps your sister did the
same.”

Tali glanced down at the message in her hand. What Brindl said was true enough. Her short message to Nel had said that she was very anxious to hear from her, and that she missed the details of
life on the tradeboat. Had Nel understood that she was asking for more information about the words Nel had mentioned in Porto Sol?

Tali unrolled the message again. “She writes, ‘Father and I travel heavy to the Festival of Light in Zipa. Do you remember where we always dock? You will be missed.’ If
there’s a hidden message there, I can’t think what it might be.”

A small sigh escaped Brindl’s lips, surprising Tali once more.

“What is it?” Tali asked.

“Nothing, really,” Brindl answered, her voice wavering. “It’s just that Zipa is home for me. I’ve never missed the Festival of Light…”

“Until now,” Chey said, finishing her thoughts. “It’s hard to be away from home at such times. I’ve never been to the festival in Zipa, but I’ve heard
it’s one of the realm’s most beautiful sights.”

During this exchange, Zarif had walked off to stare out the window above Saavedra’s desk. He scratched his chin as he so often did when deep in thought, reminding Tali of her father,
though Alondro’s face was always rough with whiskers.

“What are you thinking?” Tali asked her friend.

“I’m trying to decide if the word ‘heavy’ in Nel’s message has significance,” he said, turning slowly back to the group. “The word seems oddly
placed.”

“Not to a trader. The word ‘heavy’ means ‘laden with goods,’” Tali answered.

“But wouldn’t you be heavy
after
visiting Zipa?” Zarif asked.

“Yes, of course,” Tali answered. “We load up on salt from the mines to take back with us. But we would be heavy going there as well with items to sell during the
festival—food, drink, lanterns. The Festival of Light is always a brisk trade for us.”

“I see,” said Zarif, nodding. “That makes sense, of course.” He fell silent with the others, and they all sat lost in thought for several moments.

“I think Nel wants you to meet her in Zipa,” Chey finally said, breaking the silence.

“You do?” Tali answered, sitting forward in her chair. “How do you come to that conclusion on so few words?”

“Chey’s right! Why would she be so specific otherwise?” Brindl said, her eyes lighting up. “She wants you to meet her at the dock during the Festival of Light.”

“But Zipa is a three-day ride,” Tali said, plopping back into her chair. “I would need at least seven days to get there and back, and we’re only given three days off for
the festival. There’s simply no way to do it.”

Brindl stiffened and turned her gaze to the fire. Tali watched Brindl’s face, the glimmer in her eyes.
What does this Earth Guilder girl know that I don’t?

Brindl had changed since that first day they had met in the pledge quarters, blooming under Saavedra’s kind tutelage. She no longer stared at the ground, but met the gaze of those to whom
she spoke. She also pinned her thin blond hair back from her face, showing off her sky-blue eyes and delicate nose. While her clothes remained that of an Alcazar servant, plain and gray, she wore a
cord of delicate ivory silk wrapped around her thin waist. It was a simple touch, yet elegant, and showed off her lovely figure. But it’s her confidence that makes her pretty now, Tali
decided.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Chey, who had risen from his stool to pace the room.

“We must reach your family somehow. I think you need to speak with Nel in person,” Chey said.

“Especially if the bluejacket messages are no longer safe,” Zarif agreed.

Brindl came forward then to stand in front of the small gathering. She coughed behind her hand, and they turned to look at her.

“There is another route to Zipa,” Brindl said. “A faster one. However, it may not be possible for you to use it.”

The three friends exchanged a look of confusion, and then Chey’s eyes lit up. “You mean they’re real?” he asked.

Brindl nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

“
What’s
real?” Tali asked, trying to keep the impatience from her voice.

Chey looked at Brindl, who let out a long sigh, then nodded at him to answer. “Passage through the salt mines,” he said, turning back to Tali.

Tali shook her head. “The mines? I don’t understand.”

“The mines’ tunnels would allow you to journey from here to Zipa in only one day instead of three,” Brindl explained.

“Travel below the earth?” Tali asked. “All the way to Zipa?”

“Yes,” said Brindl. “It can be treacherous in places, but it is far faster than the Queen’s Paseo.”

Zarif rose from his chair, his eyes bright with this newfound revelation. “I see. Above ground we are delayed by our highland terrain, leagues of travel uphill and down. I assume the
underground passage is more direct?”

“Exactly,” replied Brindl, smiling at his excitement.

“So where is the nearest mine entrance from here?” Tali asked. “How do we reach the tunnels in the first place?”

“There is a tunnel below the Alcazar,” Brindl said. “The entrance lies under the kitchens, in the supply rooms.”

“Is that why you abdicated to the kitchen so easily?” Tali asked, remembering her first meeting with Brindl.

“Yes. If there was an emergency, another accident, I wanted to be able to get home fast.”